Looking back, it is still hard to come to terms with everything that has happened. Some of the shock and a little of the pain have eased in the hours and days since last Friday but the essential horror remains undiminished. It hits you hardest when the terrifying flashbacks come to call during mundane tasks like washing the dishes, walking the dog, or watching the last 20 minutes of Dublin v Kildare. Even now it is traumatic to rake over the coals of that spine-chilling vista and say the words. My son was wearing an Armagh jersey.
There. It's done. The genie is out of the bottle. Confronting the situation, said the therapist who came straight over after his round of golf on Saturday morning, is half the battle. When pressed on the issue the good doctor had to concede that Freud and Jung had paid little or no attention to the question of GAA allegiance during their long years of research so we won't be seeing him again. This is something we have to work through together as a family.
Like all great tragedies, the best place to start in this sorry tale is at the beginning. With hindsight, maybe the poor child didn't have a chance. The political situation here has made victims of us all and as the product of a mixed marriage (Tyrone and Armagh) he is in a more difficult position than most. Throw into the mix the fact that he now resides inside the Down catchment area but within touching distance of the mighty and resurgent Antrim and you have one confused 15-month-old on your hands.
The early months have not been easy. The child's diet has been rich with stories of the greatness of Tyrone football and predictions of dominance for decades to come but the reaction has been discouraging to say the least. Each grandiose claim is met with barely disguised guffaws of young laughter.
Eventually, in a state of desperation, force-feeding emerged as the last resort. For an hour every evening we would sit together in front of the television and watch the collected highlights of the genius of Peter Canavan over and over again on video. All the best bits were there - the point against Derry in 1995 where he bounced off the ground with one leg and scored with the other, his dismantling of Gary Fahy in that year's All-Ireland semi-final - but it was seed falling on barren ground. The final straw came at the end of one marathon session when he remarked that if Canavan keeps going for another few years he might eventually be as good as Diarmuid Marsden. That was the first indication that he had it bad.
But it looked like it was all under control. Armagh's second half collapse during last year's All-Ireland semi-final against Meath had taken a lot of the wind out of his sails and their abject National League suggested their Ulster title was a one off. Now it just looks like cunning of the most conspiratorial kind. They have emerged this summer as a lean, mean machine cutting a swathe through Ulster and setting off jauntily for Croke Park next Sunday.
The problem is that we had taken our eyes off the ball and we're now playing catch up. The Armagh hype is in full swing and there is precious little anybody can do about it. This, don't forget, is a county which closed down for three and a half weeks before and after the 1977 All-Ireland final and has spent the two decades since licking the wounds left by that defeat. Armagh is a county obsessed about its football and regards Bill Shankly as something of an uncommitted lightweight.
All of which is mildly diverting for the outsider who can smile approvingly at their funny ways. But it is something completely different when they try to suck you in and make you one of them. And most distressing of all is they way they callously target the young children. These are the most vulnerable members of our society who haven't yet reached the age of reason and pleading to be kitted out head to toe in the red and white of Tyrone.
So instead, presumably against their will, young boys and girls with only distant connections with Armagh are walking the streets bedecked in orange shirts and matching shorts and socks. Somebody somewhere is buying these replica kits and orchestrating the whole thing. The individual who secreted the offending jersey across our threshold has not yet been identified but the damage has already been done.
THE time for apportioning blame has long since passed and with only five days to go until Sunday's semi-final, action has to be taken. The thought-provoking initiative of the GPA and its new sponsorship deals for elite footballers and hurlers has been on everyone's lips over the past week. The interesting avenues it now opens have provided plenty of food for thought and there is no reason why we too can't surf the new grouping's free enterprise wave. Why should Donal O'Neill and the rest of the GPA crew stop at the likes of Brian Corcoran and Brian Lohan? Let's push back the boundaries and get the young boys and girls of this country - who are after all the lifeblood of the GAA - involved.
That is why, for one week only, there is a lucrative proposal on the table for all you interested sponsors and speculators out there. For a fee to be discussed at a later date the arms and back of one child's replica Armagh jersey are available for hire. All reasonable offers will be considered but those in the baby food or toy markets should be particularly keen as it offers an ideal opportunity for access to their target market.
Alcohol sponsorship might be considered inappropriate by some but as the GAA has had no qualms in the past we are also open to persuasion there. The bottom line - and in this new professional GAA world there always has to be a bottom line - is that this is an opportunity not to be missed. Together we can salvage something from all the pain and suffering.
