In the last month, I had an epiphany. I attended the funeral of Evelyn O Connor's father, Pat who I had known for over twenty years. For a decade before my teaching career, I was very involved in underage and women's soccer as was Pat. Pat was the first person to talk to me at my first Mayo League delegates meeting which was a scary experience for a newly elected club secretary who was just 10 days past his 18th birthday. I had a few battles with Pat and his partner in crime, MM ( who I think was the most devious of the pair!) on the sidelines and meeting room, but within women's football I would have had to deal with Pat a fair bit more as an ally rather than adversary. We shared some good days in the old Belfield Park and Richmond Park and some sad days attending funerals of colleagues gone before their time. I was chatting to a native of Ballyhaunis just before the hearse arrived at the church. He mentioned that Pat was often more busy with his hobbies than his actua