“The Ballad of the man from Carrick”
The Ballad of the Man from Carrick.
There once were men whose only dream
Was to be in wind and rain
Who pushed their tired bodies through every ditch and drain.
Great wins they won in many a field and park
Fashioned not on all weather tracks or heated gyms
But on cold cold roads and lonely lanes in the dark.
Today’s grey men who had that one simple precious thing –the will to win.
2.
On windswept nights a lonely figure runs out on dark black roads
His lively mind alight with dreams only found, away from kitchen fire, great halls and warm abodes.
His longing heart driven by a vision of that one and only single prize,
First, found at last, at the release of the winning line and all those human cries.
3.
Such a figure was our hero and man Donie Turner
The1960’s ushered in his era as a runner
He was from the townland of Carrick which means, I’m told, a Rock
And he was not a man, I can tell you, you were ever likely to dare to mock.
4.
He was our Gallant captain for the great Grange cross-country team
When the gun sounded over the fields he was always to the fore
Bursting through in the blue and gold over every ditch and stream
And kept driving on until his opponents broke and could do no more.
5.
Sad verse.
Alas it was on a black December day he met what was to him a deep dark defeat
In a mad moment in Bandon he turned, saw the tape beckon and victory seemed complete
Then in a breath the win was snatched by the burst and sprint of Sean Brosnan
A great barefoot runner of the old style and the all mighty Meelin champion.
6.
Deprived and defeated the determined Turner could only think of a runner’s revenge
Vowed in Carrick, that Christmas season would end in his chance to avenge
Where to the high fields of the Rising Sun deep in the folds of Mid Cork
He would prove to all the world that he could be a grim and great victor.
Chorus There once were men…..
7.
The Grange team then was the number one, invincible , hungry enough to win,
With Buckley, O’Reilly, Roche, the venerable Jonny Beechinor and powerful John Mehigan.
At the sound of the gun only one man seemed that day to run
Intent that all would toil in his wake, a single force of mind focussed in beating Brosnan.
8.
The front running revenge worked. This Buckley balladeer, not then reciting but later , at the end of lap one
Passed a very spent, dejected , disconsolate and silent barefoot Brosnan
While it seemed on the distant hills those driven legs danced away from us as if in a trance
This was destined to never become a race, but an honorary procession.
9.
All the runners on that day paid homage to the cross-country king
Donie Turner from Carrick Cork Cross-Country Champion.
When he plotted a victory and he won, all his team mates were greeted with a wicked wink and grin
But at the finish his face was sad, serious, care worn and even grim.
10.
This was a victory that had hurt hard and was something of the heart
Now was not the time for us to shout and roar but quietly depart
So he stood head down, mentally alone, strength totally gone
And accepted our warm outstretched hands and congratulations.
11
The old man Christy Turner sat and watched his own fireside roar,
Listening through the wind and rain for the lift of the latch on the door.
All at once there he was on this same kitchen floor – his one and only son
The same, but changed, transformed as in a dream
Donie, my own, my champion.
Chorus:
There once were men whose only dream
Was to be in wind and rain
Who pushed their tired bodies through every ditch and drain?
Great wins they won in many a field and park
Fashioned not on all weather tracks or heated gyms
But on cold cold roads and lonely lanes in the dark.
Today’s grey men who had that one real spark -the will to win.
Bobby Buckley November 7th 2010. For Donie Turner .