Opinion: Skip Yoga, Watch Rovers Instead

Home from home

Last week was a week like no other.

Without diving into the details, I’ll just say that it was a bit of a headmelter.

By Saturday morning, I was wrecked. Irritated. Disappointed.

Cue the world’s smallest violin.

Every football fan (and player!) knows that life doesn’t stop for the beautiful game. Work, relationships, family illness, college, kids — things beyond our control will always crop up.

And if you're a player, a volunteer, a broadcaster, you're expected to keep going. Sometimes you have to — especially when it’s your job or you’re being relied upon in a volunteer role. But sometimes, you need some space. A break. A place to vent.

On Saturday, I met a few friends for lunch up the road to get things off my chest.

Feeling a bit down in the dumps, I resigned myself to watching the DLR Waves game from home in the afternoon.

I told myself it was grand.

Sure' I’d still be covering the match for The Echo and the fanzine, and in terms of in-person presence, no one was expecting me (had they been, I'd never have let anyone down). It wasn’t official.

I knew the girls would do brilliantly and feel supported. I'm one person. But still — it nagged at me that I wasn’t going to be there. Even my friends noticed that I was distracted as kick-off approached🤣

Back home at five to three, I setup the Chromebook and streamed the fixture on LOITV.

The minute I saw the scattered crowd across The Waves’ blue seats under the sunshine, I instantly wished I’d gone. Raging at myself for letting the week get to me and ultimately affect my Saturday.

Could I make it to the Bowl before the end of the first half? I wondered, as Emily Corbet danced down the left and Joy Ralph peppered Eve Badana with shots on goal.

Ya see, less than 10 minutes had passed, and I’d already forgotten about everything that had weighed me down towards the latter end of the week.

Because that’s what this team does — and what any team you follow can do.

They lift you out of the everyday.

They raise your spirits when you're feeling low.

They give you something to cheer for.

I work in a fast paced environment as a software tester, and my sister (who coincidentally has no interest in football 🙄) often suggests that I take up yoga to unwind.

But for me, there’s no better form of meditation than sitting on the 27 bus to Tallaght, Rovers raincoat zipped as the double decker whips around the narrow bends towards Tymon, thinking about the match.

And then...it starts.

The stop at the square where I (for lack of a better word) disembark 🤣

The walk to the stadium that takes me past the roundabout.

A familiar structure that once framed the backdrop of my weekends as a kid, slowly nudging into view.

The traffic lights that take forever to turn green.

The turn inside the gates.

The crunch of gravel.

The lush mountains in the distance.

On and past the ticket box, the entrance to the main office.

Left to where the turnstiles spin.

The friendly thanks.

The climb up the steps.

The pitch — ah yes, the pitch!

Home.

When I walk into Tallaght Stadium, I leave everything behind.

Whether it's a tough week at work, worries about family members and their health, a wreck-the-head lawnmower that I can't put together 🤣(the wheels were 'missing' - turns out they were in the box hidden beneath the container that collects the grass, don't ask… )

Whatever it may be, anything negative falls away when I turn to see the gathering crowds and snake between seats to find a spot near the South Stand End of the West Stand.

The tannoy announcer.

Build Me Up Buttercup

Two lines of players stepping onto the turf.

The green and white of The Hoops.

The familiar faces, names and numbers.

The handshakes.

The circle.

The roar

ROVERS.

Now we're talking.

Hon the Hoops!!

The crisp whistle that echoes.

Aine O’Gorman, tearing after every ball like it's a bomb in need of disarming.

Melissa O’Kane, the escape artist, spinning free in circuits.

Ella Kelly, bounding, ever pressing, down the left.

Scarlett Herron, climbing in the air, determined to win every header.

Ruesha Littlejohn (say what?!!!), jogging, commanding - in full control.

Joy Ralph. Bopping. Chopping. Weaving. Shooting. The power!! Goal!!

Emily Corbet. Feinting. Dipping. Slipping

The skilllagggee!!!

Ah stop.

Nothing else matters but the match.

The play.

The scoreline.

The atmosphere.

The result.

No comparison.

I love it.

I’ve met and spoken to Joy Ralph twice, Lia O’Leary once, and interviewed Jess Hennessy at Forest, but in the scheme of things, I’ve never met or spoken to the majority of the players — much like most soccer fans.

And while I’d love to at some stage, via an interview or a handshake pitch side, I don't need to.

What they do on the pitch is enough.

I promote this team because they deserve to be heard. To be known. To be seen.

It's also the least I can do, given the buzz that following them has brought me.

I know I’m biased, but there is no other team in this country that gets me out of my chair like the Shamrock Rovers Women.

Not even The Arsenal Women.

(Beth Mead would be the exception now… 🤣)

So this is my way of saying thank you.

No matter what's going on during the week, I know that win lose or draw, I'm surrounded by friends on a Saturday.

My team.

My home from home.

Football can truly feel like family.

Hon the Hoops ☘️