SCUNDERED would be a fair description of Jamie Brennan’s reaction to Marty Morrisey’s stunt on yesterday’s Sunday Game Live.
Morrisey was interviewing Brennan on the St Tiernach’s Park pitch in the aftermath of Donegal’s Ulster SFC final win over Cavan when a This Is Your Life-type moment played out in front of the nation.
“There’s a woman here behind us,” gushed Morrisey to Jamie, “this is your mum, Jess Brennan,” in case it had slipped the son’s mind in all the excitement.
Jamie licked his lips in anticipation, his jaw locked in a stoic grin-cum-grimace, his head bowed and his eyes fixed themselves on studying the Clones grass for the rest of the interview/ordeal.
“What’s it like to have a son with Ulster Championship medals and scoring goals?”
“Fabulous, it’s absolutely fabulous,” said Mrs Brennan in a suspiciously unTír Chonaill-like accent, “I’m proud as punch of him. I’m proud as punch of them all, they’ve down fantastic.”
“And you’re not from Donegal at all,” accused a shocked Morrisey.
“No, I’m a Sligo woman,” admitted Mrs Brennan, who had temerity to arrive attired in a green-and-yellow jersey.
“Well, good on ya, well done,” Morrisey congratulated her, perhaps on her place of birth, perhaps on the Yeats county’s victory in the Nicky Rackard Cup final the day before.
Eruption of laughter about nothing in particular. Young Jamie was probably thinking it was nearly over. What else could they have to talk about? But then he didn’t factor his old man into the occasion.
“And I’m his auld fella,” piped up Mr Brennan from somewhere right of centre behind his son, keen to answer a question no one had asked.
“Ahhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,” was Morrisey’s bewildering, Alan Partridgesque response.
Poor Jamie’s jaw tightened a bit more, his chest seemed to heave, his eyes were willing the Clones grass to part for his salvation. But no such luck.
“And you’re the Donegal man?” asked Morrisey, keen to clear up any doubts over Jamie’s eligibility.
“I am, Bundoran born and bred,” Mr Brennan reassured the national broadcaster.
And all was well with the world. Morrisey congratulated him too on his place of birth. In fact, he congratulated all the Brennans everywhere, at home and abroad. Children danced and cheered. Men hoo-raaed and patted Mrs Brennan on the back. Jamie closed his eyes and willed himself away up the road.
THE final word goes to Pat Spillane and a wonderful piece of RTÉ choreography, or coincidence.
As Stephen Cluxton prepared to lift the Delaney Cup for the ninth time in succession, “God save us,” was Spillane’s summation of the state of play for those counties attempting to challenge Dublin’s dominance.
Cue cut to Dublin supporters simultaneously clapping and languorously yawning their latest triumph. God save us, indeed.
