McHugh’s Miscellany - The Donegal bond that defines us all  

I tried very hard to cajole my compass in the direction of anywhere but Clones this week, but in the end, being able to share that sweet joy and privilege with my two young sons, all of us sharing the hallowed St Tiernach's turf on final day for the first time, was unavoidable.  

A story repeated by every Donegal family in every house, village, town and pub in the county. 

It was the most dramatic end to an Ulster Final that I have seen, from a Donegal perspective, without a shadow of a doubt.

We had thunder, lightning, drama of every description and the kitchen sink of rain thrown in for good measure. 

Not to mention the four points down in the second half. 

And we were placed by the gods just yards from Shaun Patton on O’Duffy Terrace, as he made that Packie Bonner-like save, from the 1990 World Cup. 

It was pure bliss as we savoured the sweet smell of the Clones grass and mingled with thousands as Kilcar’s warrior chief and captain, Paddy McBrearty, magnanimously allowed Bundoran’s Jamie Brennan, lift the Anglo Celt Cup first, on his 100th appearance for the county.     

As Jim McGuinness has so eloquently extolled, it is all about place and identity, where the parishes and rivalries of club football merge into a unified coalition of a shared Donegal identity and diaspora across the planet. 

Those lads in the green and gold, believing in themselves, believing in their county, their families, their fans.  

These winning days are not easy to find. 25 Ulster finals and 11 victories. No first final appearance until 1963. No first victory until 1972 against Tyrone.

It was half a century ago in 1974 when my late father carried a very young boy into Clones to witness our second only victory against Down in a replay, when Brian McEniff was both playing and managing the team at the same time. 

ABOVE: Brian McEniff and Michael McHugh in his house proudly displaying the special 2024 Ulster Final caps from Hanna Hats

Mother of God, how were those early Ulster victories achieved?

Last Thursday, we shared a cup of tea in his house with the great Cautie. As always so many memories and reminiscences.  

Two hats arrived from his brother in law Philip in a box. A special 2024 Ulster Final edition direct from Hanna Hats in Donegal Town, 100% wool, 100% Donegal. 

Brian fits it on and loves it. It is the same Hanna hat that he is wearing, when he emotionally embraces the Glenties messiah after the final whistle on Sunday. 

And in his typical generosity of spirit and big heart, he insists that I take the second one which is ‘borrowed’ by my young Brendan, for the big game and which I think he slept in, on Sunday night.  

There were other final days as well, floating on victorious clouds of elevation, thinking we had arrived home in Donegal only five minutes after the long whistle. 

Then there were the days of desperate defeat, army checkpoints, inordinate delays, traffic jams and the silence on the way home. 

The good and the bad days, but a weaving thread of a deep Donegal design and DNA.

It was about Michael Murphy taking the time out to allow me to take a photo of him with my two cubs, as he entered St Tiernach's Park on Sunday and the 100 metre beam that stretched across their faces.

One that was repeated again for multiple families and their kids as the Donegal 2012 talisman spent much more time than he needed to; parents and their children overjoyed to get a few brief moments with the Glenswilly Giant.

My final thoughts are selfish too, I am afraid this week. In 1988, I had moved to London in search of work and missed the 1989 Ulster final and replay. 

Come hell or high water I was coming home, the next time around. 1990 beckoned, we're back against Armagh and the big Grimley brothers. 

Dad told me optimistically to ‘save my money’ for the All Ireland final. I ignored him, we went to Clones and hugged a special embrace after that 1990 victory.

Hours later he was dropping me off at the airport. It was our last Ulster Final together. 

Two months later he died suddenly, still in his forties. On Sunday, it was myself and my sons. 

That is what it means to be a Donegal person watching our green and gold Gaelic gladiators wrestle another Anglo Celt Cup. 

We all, as Donegal supporters owe you our everlasting gratitude!