No hunger for spat this time round

And the mind rambles.  

Not too long mind you.  

A mere twelve months in fact.

Change, we were told, was

in  the air.

Whispers were getting

louder.

Promises were being

made.

By the bucketful.

Accusations were flying.

Wildly.

Plans were being hatched.

Favours were being called

in.

Doors were being 

knocked on.

Mobiles busy.

The occasion?

Annual Kildare GAA

Convention.

Venue?

Athy GAA.

The plan?

The plot?

Not just to unseat the

county chairman.

But also to oust the vice

chair.

The challengers were out

in force.

Talking.

Planning.

Promising.

Accusing.

Coercing.

Meeting.

North.

South.

East.

West.

Midweek.

Weekends.

Sunday mornings.

Sunday afternoons.

Print media interviews.

Local radio chats.

Steam building.

By the day.

But all one way traffic.

Top table boys take

different approach.

The head man remains

calm.

Collected.

Confident.

No interviews.

No radio chats.

Nothing.

It’s the GAA way.

We are told.

Private.

Behind closed doors.

No washing dirty linen in

public here.

Above all that.

Nonetheless hectic goings

on.

Behind the scenes.

Challengers face uphill

battle.

Top table united?

Probably.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

The big day arrives.

Pre-convention 'service'

short and to the point.

Delegates scrutinised.

Republican or Democrat?

No.

Not really.

Much more serious than

that rubbish.

Down to business.

An air of uncertainty.

An air of confidence.

Depending what camp

one was in.

Old faces aplenty.

New faces looking some-

what puzzled.

Delegates keeping an eye

on fellow delegates.

Club members keeping an

eye on fellow club mem-

bers.

Long agenda.

Decision time arrives.

Stick or twist?

Carry out club wishes?

Or ignore.

Time to mark the ballot.

Returning Officer in

place.

Tellers at the ready.

The count commences.

Time elapses.

White smoke.

Result on the way.

Done and dusted.

Chairman returned.

No contest for his 

understudy.

Comfortable victory.

We move on.

Convention time around 

the corner.

Again.

How things have changed.

No contests.

No rancour.

No vote.

No promises.

No camps.

No secret gatherings.

The natives are happy.

No hunger for a spat.

This time round.