The Forge Gang at Moyvoon

Michael John McDonagh- Date of birth, 2nd of January 1935.

I was ten years old when I first got to know Michael and I was first allowed into the domain of the Forge Gang. It was a time when organised sport wasn’t common, and groups of people were forced to make their own fun. It was in the years of the Forge Gang, when we would gather at the Forge on Sundays.

We played the game of pitch and toss in the morning and later in the day, a game of football in one of the many fields. It was usually Coyne’s Field next to the spring well in Jim the boy’s field. I never knew why, unless it was simply that Coyne’s field was bigger than the neighbours’. More room to kick a football around, perhaps. Whether the Coyne’s took offence to a football team using their land for a football pitch, I have yet to find out. The late Mrs Coyne never raised her voice against the activity and was always most encouraging to the youth of the village.

I remember myself and other boys were allowed to stand behind the goal and get the ball when someone kicked a score. We were too young to be competing with the grown-up men but we soon graduated to the senior level.

Jackets or coats were usually used for goal posts.

There was only one goal needed. Our days at the Forge were a wonderful time in my life. It was a time when boys could play alongside men and learn about life and learn to become men.

The great conversations and yarns that everybody took part in when each one was given time to give their views of local or world affairs. That, and all kinds of gossip mixed in as well. It was a learning centre, no doubt.

I thought Michael John (M.J) was a handy footballer. No, he was better than that. At ten maybe I was too young to judge any such talent but when I used to hear the older men speak with similar views, my opinion of M.J became more certain. At football, he was able to jump and grab a fast moving high ball. He had an accurate kick, good footwork and a well-balanced body.

He made the task of play look effortless. His posture as he moved on his feet was graceful and to then watch him work on building sites again, seemed effortless.

Good balance is one of the main qualities needed for a talented athlete and in a suitable environment, he could have trained to become a serious sportsman. In today’s world with opportunity freely available, maybe M.J had the complete ability to have become a national champion, maybe even go on and compete at the Olympics. I have no doubt M.J had the athletic ability to challenge the world in some sport. But did he have the desire?

They could have been champions

There were others too in the Forge Gang who wanted to show the world their strength and might. I wasn’t even a teenager at the time, but I remember M.J as the stand out. To the best of my knowledge the Forge Gang competed as a seven a side football team on several occasions and that they might have played their last game ever at the Ross Sports in the summer of 1962.

Due to members moving to other parts in the hope to find employment etc. Numbers dwindled to a point where enthusiasm went down and the Forge Gang became history. By 1964, I don’t remember any other meetings.

A question for the surviving members of the Forge Gang and what they might remember of that time. Was there ever anything written or photos taken regarding the history of the Forge Gang? When did the history of meetings at the Forge begin?

Such history probably goes back much further than we might think, such meetings were common in many parts of the country, incorporating the well documented crossroads dances that are still talked about in Irish Society. And most likely date back several hundred years. So that task might be for a real historian.

The story of Michael John McDonagh, I’m sure could apply to thousands of others. Often the gates to opportunity were locked or opportunity hadn’t yet arrived. That’s not so in today’s world where people are spoiled with opportunity of all sorts.

The truth is such, bits of history are hardly ever talked about or mentioned anymore. It went to sleep when it became no more. Maybe not so for the likes of me who went away to live elsewhere. Such memories might be asleep in some corner but we are never surprised when they sometimes flash back to life.