Sligo Rovers, last Saturday, found their way off the bottom of the table for the first time since mid-April with a gutsy win over Waterford.
John Russell's side, as they so often do, dug in and delivered.
A 1-0 victory might not leap off the page but in context, it’s a huge result for them at a time of the season when recruiting players is so important and sitting bottom of the league during the transfer window can make that process all the more challenging.
The return of Wilson Waweru to the starting XI is an encouraging sign for John Russell’s men and to restart his Sligo Rovers career with a goal after such a lengthy absence through injury will do his confidence the world of good.
As we enter the period of the season of comings and goings, you start to think about which club needs what and where, and what club has the best chance of achieving those acquisitions.
Waweru will feel like a new signing and they have been out of the traps quickly with the capture of Seb Quirk.
Sligo are the club I worry about the most regarding what they can achieve, yet year in year out, John Russell manages to pull it off.
This is a club that has never enjoyed the luxury of deep pockets. There’s no rich owner behind the scenes or billionaire fulfilling a lifelong dream of owning a football club.
They live within their means, survive off the back of raffles, fundraising events, season ticket drives and the quiet, relentless generosity of people who care.
Every season a crowd-funded injection of cash is needed to keep the club competitive. And it tells you everything you need to know about the bond between club and community.
But as always, money only goes so far. The rest has to come from the dugout. And in Russell, Rovers have a manager who does the unglamorous parts of the job with a quiet excellence.
Each year, he rebuilds with a limited budget. Each year, he finds new ways to compete.
It’s never flashy, rarely headline-grabbing, but it’s deeply impressive. That win against Waterford was a reminder that Russell still has the dressing room singing from the same hymn sheet, even when the league table would suggest otherwise.
The average age of the team stands at 23. The wage bill is one of the lowest. But through intelligent coaching, sharp recruitment, and a strong belief in player development, Russell has his side playing with a purpose.
Even when they are fighting at the bottom end of the table you rarely leave a Sligo game feeling that they can’t compete. They always do.
Nearly a year has passed since the death of Tommie Gorman – journalist, author, Sligo Rovers fanatic, and, to many, a custodian of the club’s soul.
The tributes flowed after his passing, as did the stories. But my own interaction with Tommie, or lack of, has haunted me in the most strangest of ways.
I had read Tommie’s book when I first moved back to Ireland and wanted to reach out to him to wish him well, I didn’t.
After his passing I reached out to Joe, Tommie's son, to send my condolences and the exchange of messages that followed I’ll never forget.
He recalled the cup final against Sporting Fingal in 2009, a miserable day in Tallaght which we lost 2-1 after taking the lead, the day that Tommie believes ignited Joe’s love for the club.
He recalled another match, Sligo Rovers v St Pat’s, a tough game, and I’d been subbed off in the second half.
While Sligo were holding on to their 2-1 lead. Tommie walked down, banged on our dugout, and shouted, "Welcome home, you're one of the greatest to ever do it in the Showgrounds."
I struggled to enjoy the sentiment at the time because we were losing, and I had been brutal in the game, but I hung around the car park after hoping to catch a conversation with him. I imagine Tommie was at home on his second cup of tea by then.
I remember playing a friendly for St Pat's against Sligo earlier in that season, running across to Centra after the game to grab some treats for the drive home and being convinced that Tommie had just walked by me. I didn’t say a word. And I’ll kick myself for that for a long time.
Because Tommie Gorman represented everything that makes Sligo Rovers more than just a football club.
He embodied what it means to belong to something bigger. His kindness was so powerful. His words carefully chosen and generously given.
And that regret about not shaking his hand, not wishing him well, not thanking him in person, is a weight I carry now, one that reminds me to never miss those moments again.
There’s always a lesson in these things, lessons that go beyond football. About showing up.
About saying what needs to be said before it’s too late. And about never underestimating the impact we have on others - and they on us.
Sligo Rovers will continue to punch above their weight because they always do.
Not because of resources or riches, but because of people like Tommie.
Because of fans who volunteer, paint fences, sell tickets, and raise funds. Because of a manager who believes in young players and a community that believes in its club.
