Five decades past on this very weekend, Jack Cosgrove, the first ever from Clifden to play in an All-Ireland, and the full back from Galway, was on the brink of his third final in a span of four years.
Post this anticipated event, Jack was buoyant about the possibility of celebrating his marriage to Margaret Darcy the following weekend in the esteemed company of Sam Maguire. The initial thrill, however, was all about the football match. Off late, Galway had been inundated with stress owing to their loss in the All-Ireland finals twice over the past three years. Yet, the team’s collective experience was perceived by many as a dominant edge over their rivals.
Previously, the Galway team had triumphed over Donegal in the All-Ireland semi-final a week ago. Cosgrove suggested they were prepared to face the reigning champions, Cork. He stated, “In 1974, upon training in Tuam that Sunday, we halted at Galway at one of the selector’s homes to watch the match. Somewhat to our surprise, we found ourselves to be matched up with Dublin, instead of Cork, leading us to rethink our strategy.”
That Sunday, Patrick Scuffle (48), Michael Wallace (62), and Patrick O’Toole (58) were engrossed in preparations for the brief journey from Inish Turbot (also referred to as Turbot or Turbot Island) to the mainland at Eyrephort. Turbot was devoid of any electricity and the trio, who were passionate about football and eagerly awaited to witness a local man represent the county in an All-Ireland, knew this match was not to be missed.
Arrangements for their transportation to travel the approximate distance of 8km to Clifden and back to Eyrephort in the evening had been made.
But as the weekend approached its end, disaster loomed not only in regard to the predictable sports outcomes but in much graver ways.
Young Cosgrove had previously encountered a near-tragic situation. At the tender age of 23, he served as a Garda in the city of Cork and was part of an evening patrol on the eve of Christmas in 1972.
Two individuals were spotted near Mayfield Church by us. The moment they laid eyes on us, they bolted, proceeding around the church’s backside. The two other blokes with me took one way, while I pursued another path through an accessible field. At the time, my physical condition allowed me to apprehend the closest lad. However, the other bloke brandished a gun from under his coat, shouting abusive expletives, threatening to shoot if I didn’t release his comrade. The chap I had seized attempted escape when a gunshot echoed, leaving me with a wounded shoulder and a pierced lung. They were associated with Saor Éire, an offshoot republican group, who were being pursued by the Special Criminal Court at the time.
Saor Éire was notorious for not hesitating to shoot police officers. They were trading headlines in 1970 for the killing of an active-duty officer, Richard Fallon, which struck the nation’s conscience, following a bank heist in Dublin. This particular instance, though, did not result in a loss of life; still, it had a lasting traumatic impact. After being discharged the same night, I found myself back in the infirmary on Christmas Day for a medical emergency. The wound to my lung made me susceptible to pneumonia, necessitating an additional five weeks of hospitalisation. I received compensation of £2,007, including £7 for the tear in my jumper and the remaining for my physical wound.
“No amount of monetary compensation could truly surmount the lasting effects wrought by this experience, which outlived the reparations. “Even now, I face challenges due to the bullet fragment lodged in my shoulder, as a recent MRI scan became problematic, given the risk of the bullet potentially dislodging due to magnetic field,” I recalled.
Cosgrove, my past self, epitomised the quintessential full back, with the added advantage of speed. I was selected for this position on the inaugural official All-Star football team, established in December 1971. My award-winning citation noted my tenacity, skilled and confident fielding, and adaptability paired with an exceptional turn of speed. As an integral component of the Galway teams that lost three All-Ireland finals in a four-year span during the 1970s, stories surpassed only by the repeating disappointments experienced by Galway predecessors during the early 1940s, I painfully remember how hope eventually faded.
As a young man from Clifden, being the first to participate in the ’71 All-Ireland final was an immense event. Although there’s an expectation to return, when you get to the final for the second time, winning is a must as the novelty has worn off.
Being based in Cork and previously a player for St Nicholas, a football division of the renowned Glen Rovers hurling club, he had a good knowledge of many of the opponents he faced in ’73. Interestingly, Cosgrove inadvertently played a part in the rise of Cork’s youthful star, Jimmy Barry-Murphy, whose outstanding performance in a trial match accelerated his ascension to the senior ranks.
Reflecting on an all-Ireland Garda team match he played against JBM in Mardyke, Cosgrove just barely managed to touch him, comparing him to an eel. Despite not being directly opposed to JBM in the ’73 final, from the corner, the latter landed 2-1 from play.
The following year, the Dubs stormed the All-Ireland, leaving Galway defeated and empty-handed. According to a column written by Paddy Downey, Cosgrove put on an impressive show during the early parts of the game. However, he was also subjected to mounting pressure due to the opposition’s strategic move – shifting Tony Hanahoe from centre forward to the wing, which urged the centre back to follow suit, leaving a wide-open space down Galway’s defence.
Centre forward Tommy Joe Gilmore was conscious that he wouldn’t be marking a traditional player. When he inquired what he was to do, the answer was simply to track his man. As a result, Gilmore didn’t play once during that final. This left an open access in front of Keaveney, rendering any move successful; whether high, low, left or right. The absence of a blockade in the centre left Cosgrove vulnerable. The situation could perhaps have been handled differently, keeping Hanahoe in the open for some time and letting Gilmore maintain the centre and move forward might have shifted the Dublin’s tactics.
His recollections are peppered with unresolved sentiments, a window into an era that straddled the traditional yesteryears and the more modern managerial age, represented by the figure of Kevin Heffernan.
“Galway was an intriguing case. The number of selectors was almost equal to the players. But, one voice that always took centre stage was John ‘Tull’ Dunne, however, we lacked the strategizing that was synonymous with Heffo. He was always one step ahead, fully prepared for what was to come.”
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The day was marked by an unruly storm, September 22nd, 1974.
After spending the night at a bar in Clifden, speculated to be Mannion’s by Cosgrove, the trio from the islands were taken to the place where their currach was docked. Eyrephort, which is approximately 750m from Turbot.
Despite being a short distance, the journey was fraught with dangerous currents. The men, seasoned fishermen and adept handlers of boats, had made the crossing countless times before.
Their absence that night lead to the conclusion that they decided to stay on the mainland due to the harsh weather conditions.
“The currach was discovered the following day,” he recounted. “However, their families were left in suspense for several days due to lack of communication means. Also, occasionally the islanders would stay overnight in Eyrephort if the weather was too rough for the journey.
To this day, the real story is known only to four individuals, the three who were lost to the sea, and the almighty himself.”
Cosgrove, albeit from Aughrismore, four miles west of Cleggan and near Omey Island, was very familiar with the islands. “From my residence, you get a perfect view of Inishturk and Inish Turbot,” he stated.
By the following Monday, fragments of the unfortunate news had begun to reach Dublin via phone calls, resonating amongst the Galway community, including Cosgrove.
While I didn’t have a personal bond with these three elderly men, their familiarity was undeniable due to their frequent football debates. Even with the absence of an island team at the time, they avidly played football every Sunday. Whenever a match was aired, they’d make their way to Clifden promptly to watch it.
I remember meeting their relatives on a Tuesday by the shore, the melancholy was palpable. I couldn’t help but think how an event of celebration, like a match win, could have potentially postponed their return to the island, sparing them this fate. The ‘what ifs’ were nearly overwhelming.
During this state of chaos, a celebration took place in Clifden. Jack and Margaret tied the knot on September 28th, and will be commemorating their golden anniversary next week. Tommy Joe Gilmore was the best man, facilitating a sense of joy in spite of the sombre circumstances.
It took two weeks for the bodies of the men to be discovered, as Cosgrove recollects. The wait only worsened the situation, elevating the anticipation. There is a notorious current that flows from the islands towards the open sea, making the search even more challenging. Their eventual discovery two weeks later cast many things in a new light. The wedding preparations served as a distraction during this tough time and, as history suggests, they held the wedding which has stood the test of time.
Half a century later, the memories and repercussions linger. Despite the area also being a witness to a maritime tragedy in 1927 where 45 island fishermen were taken by an unexpected lethal storm, these three men represent the only losses from Turbot.
In the early 19th century, Turbot Island had nearly 200 inhabitants, although by the early 1970s this number had plummeted to around 60. Life was harsh at the time, given the absence of electricity and telephones, along with scarcity of turf for fuel due to it being sold for extra income. Many of the older residents were already considering relocating to the mainland for their younger family members’ betterment. After a series of tragic accidents causing deaths, and the establishment of land commission houses across the water, a mass expulsion took place in 1978. However, there has been an upsurge in interest in the island’s property market as vacation and long-term dwelling places.
In 2020, mainland resident Joseph O’Toole wrote the poignant poem, Turbot Men, about these chilling sacrifices, which was then musicalised by Peter Knox. The video was released that year. Nearly two decades ago, the island gained both electricity and satellite internet services.
Heartening links with footballers from Dublin and Galway still exist. Last year in Croke Park, both teams united to raise funds for Raheny Hospice, where two Dublin team members Anton O’Toole and Brian Mullins had been treated during their end-stages of life. During the event, Gay Mitchell, a 1974 Galway captain and goalkeeper, delivered a heartfelt speech about the loss of his daughter Aoife in her mid-30s at Galway Hospice.
Later in July, while in Galway for the All-Ireland quarter-finals, the team attended a commemorative dinner after a round of golf. Dublin’s captain, Seán Doherty, found about Aoife’s passing from Mitchell’s speech in April, thus was moved to offer a check donation to Galway’s Hospice. This act of kindness showed unity in both good times and bad.
The coming Sunday marks the half-century remembrance since a night of tragic accidental deaths turned a sporting loss into something far more sorrowful.
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