For any 13-year-old Cork boy to see Christy Ring scoring six goals and four points against mighty Wexford would be something to be remembered and cherished for a lifetime.
Yet on a mild November afternoon in 1959 when the teams met at the old Athletic Grounds and Christy was in stupendous form, the occasion was a near disaster for me.
“Take me in front of ya, sir” was the usual way youngsters gained free access to matches and, like countless others, I had used that routine many times. By now, though, I had become a little too tall to be taken through the turnstile by an accommodating adult so an alternative ploy was required.
At the time juvenile finals used to be played at the Park on Saturdays and we would tog out in a dressing shed at the riverside corner of the city end. One day we discovered a gap in the wire between the cheap part of the ground and the expensive seated side by the river.
It was perfect for slipping into the more select section of the Park – or so we thought.
