This Sunday, in the great theatre of Croke Park, under the endless sky of Dublin’s northside, the women of Galway take to the field once more. Maroon and white hearts beat faster as the clock ticks toward the All-Ireland Senior Camogie Final—a familiar yet sacred moment, nearly 30 years on from that first crowning glory in 1996.
Now, they chase a fifth title, and they do so not alone. They carry with them the weight and warmth of a county’s pride, the future hopes of underage champions rising beneath them, and the ghostly echoes of those who once stood where they now stand lifting them up. They are Galway’s last senior team standing in 2025, and they are standing tall.
This team is not just a squad of athletes. They are a mirror—reflecting all the grit, grace, and ambition Galway has to give. Under Cathal Murray, his brilliant backroom team and a supportive board, they have become an elite force, professionals in every sense but pay. They’ve trained in silence and in darkness, on winter pitches and cold dressingrooms, bore pain and bruises in car journeys home, giving everything for this one chance at summer immortality. They’ve earned our roars, our admiration, and our financial support too. (see www.galwaycamogie.ie to see how you can give. )
This Sunday is not just another game. It is a crescendo. A final challenge. And to the women who will wear the maroon and white on that sacred stretch of sod—feel it. Feel the strength that pulses through the years and veins and valleys of your county. Hear the silence of support—felt, not always heard—in every Galway living room, every GAA pub abroad, every soul tuned in from Clifden to Cricklewood. Know that our lungs will be your second and third lungs. Our shouts, your fuel. Our pride, your shield.
There, in Croke Park, look around at your sisters-in-arms. The veterans and the new blood. The wisdom of experience and the wildness of youth. Know that they have vowed—each of them—to win every duel, every quarter, every inch of that field. You are not alone. And neither are we.
This is not just Galway’s game. It is Galway’s spirit in motion. It is every whisper of history that has floated through the boreens of Gurtymadden and Glenamaddy. It is the dusty radios of islanders striving to catch a game. It is the crackly headphones in the ears of emigrants in lonely Kilburn bedsits. It is the longing for home that lives in every exiled heart and every child with a hurl in their hand.
You are the answer to that longing.
Remember those who blazed the trail in 1996—those who weren’t handed respect but demanded it. They didn’t have gear that fit comfortably or equitable media coverage that mattered. But they had fire. And that fire is still burning, passed down through the years like a sacred torch. And now, you stand where they once stood, more ready than any who came before.
There’s something elemental about a Galway team in Croke Park. The ocean breathes in rhythm with the county’s hopes. The waves crash at Dog’s Bay. The wind speaks across the Aran cliffs. The Corrib hums with ancient voices. This game, this day, is bigger than sport. It is tradition and revolution, hand in hand. It is pride and possibility.
So do not listen to those who say there will be other finals. There are no guarantees. There is only now. And now is everything.
Look again to the other side. Know that Cork fear you—not just for your skill, but for your unity, your hunger, your strength. You are not their obstacle. You are their reckoning.
And when the whistle blows and you step forward, you are not just fighting for medals or memory. You are writing the story in real time. You are painting a masterpiece in motion. You are etching your names into the soul of this county, in brilliant high-definition.
You will carry bruises. You will shed sweat. Perhaps even tears. But you will also carry us. All of us. And we will carry you. Into the clash, into the light, into victory.
So roar loud, Galway. Stand tall. Stand proud. Let the skies over Croker see a maroon rising like never before.
Because you are Galway women.
And you are women of steel.
