Big feeds of colcannon and sausages, a profound self-belief, and a rigorous training routine that would have put the old East German Athletic Association to shame!
This, according to an expert on the subject, was the secret behind the heart-stopping performance of the ladies’ tug of war teams at the great Coolagh Pattern of 1998.
A field outside the tiny Kilkenny village played host to the annual event that celebrates a dying Irish tradition. Patterns date back to the days of early Christianity in Ireland and the one held at Coolagh can count itself among the precious few that still liven up the quiet countryside in these cynical times.
The 1998 event was as fun-filled and entertaining as ever, with hurlers, camogie players, and runners of all ages battling it out for a much-coveted mention in the Coolagh Pattern Roll of Honour.
Hundreds of returned emigrants joined a record crowd of farmers and local people on Seamus O’ Neill’s field, hallowed venue for the Pattern, and old acquaintances were renewed at what has become one of the biggest annual get-togethers in the South East.
Those who made the long journeys from the USA, England, and Australia were not disappointed with the show. Under a blazing sun, they revelled in the fine displays of Gaelic Athletic prowess as the sound of ash clashing on the makeshift playing ground aroused ancient passions and loyalties.
Or they admired the vast array of dogs-every known breed-that strutted about the field with their proud masters. And they laughed at the tiny tots as they raced in the micro-mini-marathon, urged on by excited parents. Later in the evening, they would step it out at the Coolagh Pattern Barn Dance to the accompaniment of Hillbilly music. What more could they ask for?
But the main attraction this year was the tug-of-war showdown. The combatants were all women. Weeks of hard training, and a diet calculated to build up their strength in readiness for the duel, had made them as tough as it possible for ladies to be without detracting from their curvaceous womanly forms.
They came from far and near, in some cases to fulfil a childhood dream of winning the Golden Rope Award.
Tipperary women dominated the action. They reached the Grand Finals after a gruelling series of knockouts that held the fans spellbound. A team from Mullinahone faced a determined line-up from Grangemockler.
As if to underline the Tipp presence in the heart of County Kilkenny, a dozen sheep painted blue and gold were happily grazing in another part of the field under the watchful eye of farmer and amateur artist, Dan Kennedy. He managed to cheer on the women and tend his sheep at the same time, no mean achievement.
For ten nail-biting minutes, the two teams pulled, heaved, and struggled in the sweltering heat. Hundreds of adoring fans roared their support from the sidelines. Some covered their eyes, unable to bear the tension. The result seemed on a knife-edge.
Excitement reached fever pitch as the women gave it their all. Dainty but stubborn feet in hobnailed boots dug into the earth, sending sods flying in all directions. The women fought like tigers, neither team prepared to give way.
They oozed sweat by the bucket-full, and some of the pullers seemed to be almost in pain, though whether in a physical sense or from the contemplation of possible defeat, it was difficult to gauge.
But the strain proved too much for Mullinahone. The brave amazons went down fighting as the “Mountain Women” triumphed. Gracious in defeat, apart from a tearful eye here and there, the courageous runners-up shook hands with the champions.
The winning side received a hundred pounds and the hearty congratulations of the Pattern Committee, which praised the high standard of sportsmanship.
I wondered how the women could take such punishment. “It’s what they’re fed, and the training they get”, confirmed a wise elderly lady who filled me in on the background to the ladies’ astonishing performance.
A tug-of war expert and seasoned Pattern fan, she informed me that many of the women had partaken of “generous helpings of colcannon, sausages, black puddings, hairy bacon, lots of cabbage” and a variety of other strength building, nourishing feeds to give them an edge on the Big Day. And they were trained to “within an inch of perfection”- better than the athletes in China or the old East Germany, she assured me.
But since they exercised as well, day in and day out, they avoided putting on extra weight, only boosting their muscular strength, she added. The women had come to believe in themselves and their dedication, she told me, could be likened to “a magnificent obsession”.
The tug-of-war final also impressed Sean Holden, who commentated on the sporting events. “The ladies did us all proud”, he said, “and they certainly added a new dimension to the Pattern this year”.
Sean has been involved with the Coolagh Pattern since 1948. That was the year he acquired two loud speakers for the purpose of transmitting his lilting voice to the multitude. He developed an uncanny knack for commenting on up to six different events at once, switching quickly from a hurling match to a dog show, then to the Father’s Race, a vintage rally, and back to the hurling.
Sean is happy to see the Pattern still as popular as ever at Coolagh. He reminded me that it was one of the few remaining Patterns in Ireland. Patterns, he explained, predate Christianity, having roots in ancient Ireland when the Pagans celebrated the Festival of Lughnasa. This honoured the god Lugh and marked the arrival of the first fruits of the harvest.
With the advent of Christianity, these festivals were incorporated into ritual gatherings at Holy wells. The rituals evolved into Patterns as some communities decided to add zest to them by introducing dances, drinking, trading, and faction-fights.
Many Patterns died out during the Famine, but some, including the one at Coolagh, were revived afterwards.
Sean hopes this grand old Irish tradition will survive well into the present century. With a sad gesture, he remarked: “It’s part of what we are, it’s all about having a bit of a craic in the open countryside. It binds people together and I’d hate to see it die out or disappear like so much else in our culture.”
From: Kilkenny-People Places Faces
