No hunger for spat this time round
Convention time looming

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.
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