THE WEST IS YET TO COME

Roscommon's summer of 2026 is already legendary

- Roy CURTIS

AS Roscommon located a final, killing thrust, it felt like a moment of almost mystical power was being emblazoned across a vast and cloudless sky.

You didn’t have to feel the tug of tribalism to understand that another of those magical Championship moments was unspooling, an afternoon of wildly heightened emotion, one that would propel the ecstatic thousands onto a storied rectangle of GAA grass.

The Miracle of the Hyde will be remembered as a landmark day in so many lives.

Because The Rossies claimed a perfect Connacht title last Sunday, adding Galway’s scalp to that of Mayo, and, when they might have curled up and died after a bold effort, instead summoning the surge of a lifetime to demolish a six-point deficit.

Such a lethal and thrilling finishing kick was in keeping with a performance oozing unembarrassed adventure, a signature moment stamped with don't-die-wondering fearlessness.

What the impressive statistics can never convoy is quite how the afternoon, one that soared as only the immortal ones can, so profoundly touched its audience.

This was the day Roscommon carved their name into the bark of the 2026 summer, the letters etched in the confident calligraphy of a team announcing they are at home in the corridors of power.

Here they took the very best punches that heavyweight titans like Shane Walsh and Damien Comer can throw - and declined to buckle.

That defiance allowed their people know that life-affirming rush of blood and belonging that the special days bestow.

The surge of adrenalin that ran through the old arena quickened heartbeats, triggered monsoons of euphoric tears, awakened their clan to a glorious sense of place.

The Miracle of the Hyde - an unearthly, preternatural, transformative 70 minutes, a simply magnificent game of football - allowed older observers feel a reviving flourish of youth.

It gifted the more coltish observers a spectacle to feed their young dreams.