(Regular readers of this blog will be aware of my ancestral roots in County Kerry. So it is in the spirit of good sportsmanship and friendship that I am delighted to publish this guest post by County Mayo historian Daniel Carey. MH)
It’s an Irish sporting story that’s been heard round the world. Former US President Joe Biden has sent his congratulations. The New York Times has written in depth about it. And a lot of people who thought Mayo was only a thick, creamy sauce now know it’s also the home of the All-Ireland Gaelic football champions.
Daniel Carey, left, and Eamonn McConnon of DCU Research enjoy a post-match drink.
Mayo’s victory in the final against defending champions Kerry (who were seeking a record fortieth title) marked the end of a long wait. This title, Mayo’s fourth, came 75 years since their last success in the premier competition for Gaelic football. Since 1951, when they last triumphed, Mayo have been to the All-Ireland final eleven times, and came up short every time. Until 2026.
Much of the international coverage of Mayo’s triumph has been framed around the ending of a curse to rival that of the Bambino (Babe Ruth and the Boston Red Sox, 1918-2004), or the Chicago Cubs billy goat (1945-2016). In Ireland, the story goes that overly enthusiastic celebrations in the wake of the 1951 success disrupted a funeral in the Mayo town of Foxford, which prompted an enraged priest to announce that Mayo would never win an All-Ireland title while the players involved were still alive. The fact that there is no record of any such funeral taking place, or any account of an alleged curse dating back further than the 1990s, were, of course, mere details. A series of hard-luck stories in finals had made the curse a part of Mayo lore. The last surviving member of the squad died in 2023.
Curse or no curse, Ireland in 1951 was a very different place than today. The major political scandal that year involved the resignation of Minister for Health Noel Browne, whose efforts to introduce free maternity care (the so-called Mother and Child Scheme) faltered in the face of opposition from the Catholic Church hierarchy and the medical establishment and a cabinet happy to have the bishops dictate social policy. Mass attendance (more than 95 percent among Irish Catholics in the early 1950s, according to historian Louise Fuller) was then a rite observed by virtually all match attendees on Sunday morning. Not that there was a shortage of Mayo prayers in 2026: the day of the final coincided with Reek Sunday, an annual day of pilgrimage in which thousands come to Mayo to climb Croagh Patrick, a holy mountain on which Saint Patrick is said to have fasted for forty days on the summit.
Ireland is not only a less religious society three-quarters of a century on, it has also been transformed by technology. Much of Mayo was without electricity in 1951, the rural electrification scheme having only begun in 1946. Running water and indoor toilets were also beyond the reach of many. People sharing accounts of attending the 1951 final describe journeying the width of the country by bicycle. One thing remains the same: though they may train like professionals, then as now the players are amateurs; they receive travelling expenses, but not pay for play.
Unemployment and emigration were facts of life in the impoverished west of Ireland in the mid-twentieth century. The Commission on Emigration and Other Problems report, released in 1954, found that Mayo had experienced net emigration of 52,200 between 1926 and 1951. The destinations may have changed – young adults now head for Dubai or Australia rather than Boston or Cleveland – but Mayo people can still be found all over the world. In his post-match speech, Mayo captain Jack Coyne specifically mentioned those living far from home. “To every young boy and girl across Mayo and our diaspora across the world,” he said, “never stop dreaming, stick your chests out and be proud to be from Mayo.”
There was barely a dry eye in the house as Coyne uttered those words, having moments earlier lifted the Sam Maguire Cup (a trophy named for a Cork-born Irish republican, a replica of the famous Ardagh Chalice). While fans of the losing team generally leave before the formal presentation, most the 83,000-plus crowd remained in situ to watch history being made.
Irish newspapers reported Mayo’s victory in the 2026 All-Ireland Gaelic football final, ending a 75-year “curse” since the county’s last win in 1951.
In the absence of television (which would not arrive in Ireland for another decade), footage of the 1951 final appeared on newsreels. Television was, of course, the medium of choice in 2026 for those watching live, but social media has dominated the dissemination since. Mayo manager Andy Moran, a celebrated former player, himself referenced the two-minute clip of the final stages of the game as heard on the local station, Midwest Radio. Mayo fan Shane Fitzgerald was captured on camera blessing himself, bursting into tears and collapsing to his knees at the final whistle. Congratulatory messages came in to this writer’s phone from all parts of Ireland … and from Indian, Iranian and American friends who have been introduced to the Mayo story and been captivated by it.
The county anthem ‘The Green and Red of Mayo’ (sung by the Saw Doctors, a band from neighbouring County Galway) got not one but two outings over the Croke Park public address system after the final whistle … and has been heard hundreds of time since. Twenty-four hours later, approximately 60,000 people were at MacHale Park, the Mayo stadium in the county town of Castlebar, to welcome home the team (and the Sam Maguire Cup). Joe Biden was referencing the eponymous trophy when he shouted “Mayo for Sam” on a visit to his ancestral home of Ballina in 2023. Three years later – nay, 75 years later – Sam is finally in Mayo. And there’s been no talk about disrupted funerals.
(Daniel Carey is a postdoctoral researcher at the School of Communications in Dublin City University. His current project, funded by Research Ireland, examines the archives of the Catholic Standard newspaper, published in Ireland between 1928 and 1978. A native of Mayo, he spent 11 years as a print journalist with the Westport-based Mayo News.)
