These are the days of our lives
Memories are made of moments, and MWC holds them all. Smiles and tears, penalty shoot-out drama and sunshine; picnics packed beside raincoats and umbrellas.
The taste of blue bonbons and hot dogs, coffee (lots of it), the smell of cut grass, and that early morning fog in Kilbogget Park before the sun breaks through. Add the hustle and bustle, microphones and whistles, laughter and sideline chats with friends – and in a nutshell, MWC awakens every sense.
In our house, with three boys fully involved and a husband who dipped into the managerial world, it was simply the highlight of summer.
It all began for the Hegarty household in 2016. ‘New to the parish’, MWC was our first real step into the community. Nerves ran high: our two young boys on the same team, and a seven‑month‑old in tow, and everything unfamiliar. For ten years, it became sacred in our calendar – non‑negotiable dates, never to be messed with. The build‑up was immense; once the booklet arrived, the chats began – teams, tactics, rivalries. That little booklet recorded the highs and lows of the 2 weeks, and there were plenty of both.
As the years went on and all three boys played, my worry wasn’t logistics or dinner times, but bracing for the emotional rollercoaster: one winning, one losing, one indifferent – each child needing a different approach. The boys struck gold in their very first MWC competition, lifting the trophy straight away. While they never quite reached those ultimate heights again, with one boy still left in the competition, there’s always room for more silverware yet!
Watching MWC grow over the years, especially the ladies’ section, has been a joy. Seeing my godchild love it makes me wish it had existed for me as a child – I always tell the boys it’s my skills that made them the footballers.
For Cathal and I, MWC was where we laid the foundations for new friendships – connections we still hold dear today and that truly anchored us in the community. It was also where the boys’ friendships really flourished: long hours outdoors, chatting with their mates before and after games, cheering each other on from the sidelines, and sharing every high and low together.
Those simple moments built bonds that have lasted, and they mean so much to all of us. Cathal and I often joke that each year the walk back from the pitches to the clubhouse gets slower and slower, filled with debriefs, laughter, and long check‑ins with fellow parents – small moments that quietly show just how settled and at home we have become.
My parents even made the journey up from Cork to soak up the atmosphere and, more often than not, to step in and help out – particularly in those years when we hit a logistical jam with three children all scheduled to play matches at the same time.
Now, with the two eldest boys donning the referee’s whistle and managerial duties by my husband ‘rested’ for this year, I look back with real happiness and ahead with quiet excitement. No matter what the weather throws at us, I’ve learned to be ready – with the right coat, snack for the boys, and the right mindset – which is what makes the whole journey such a joy.
Lisa Hegarty
