Bohehemian: A new meaning — Terrace Edition

Words: Sèamie LaPêche

Images: Sèamie LaPêche

Something I always told myself is if I ever moved to Dublin, I’d follow the League of Ireland a lot more closely and so I did.

Moving to the Irish capital (at the tail end of last season) meant I was on the lookout for a local club for the upcoming season.

One thing I didn’t want to do was fall into the popularity trap of Bohs that’s swept across the country in recent years.

Bohs merchandise has become the latest fashion trend, with jersey collaborations with Oasis, Fontaines D.C. and Kneecap that have pushed the Bohemian jersey from just a football top to must-have festival gear.

I wanted to follow the league as a whole and give other teams a chance.

©Sèamie LaPêche/ Terrace Edition. Bohemian vs Shelbourne FC.

I started with a few games at St Pats. It was ok, but ok is all it was. I appreciate that there’s a sense of community, with Richmond Park being in the heart of Inchicore, but maybe it was the two games I went to where the Saints failed to get on the scoresheet.

That shouldn’t have come as a surprise, as I was familiar with Pats manager Stephen Kenny after his goal-deprived tenure with the Irish national side.

Then it was onto Rovers, who play in a bit of a soulless bowl of Tallaght Stadium. Honestly, the less said the better.

It was Shels fans who actually impressed me more in that game, in full voice, backing up their team with the massive crowd they brought to the away end.

So after drifting around a few grounds, I thought it was time to finally check out Dalymount Park.

Bohemian versus Shelbourne. Two teams that aren’t just rivals, they’re neighbours.

A short thirty-minute walk is all that separates the two teams. Phibsborough versus Drumcondra. Two of the oldest clubs in the league, with rivalry and tradition to match.

Sitting between the two grounds is a reminder of where the game in Ireland is at - Croke Park!

Eighty thousand seats. The centre of the GAA.

It’s the landmark that tells you, without saying a word, that football in this country is still miles behind the country’s leading sports — hurling and Gaelic football.

Gaelic games are way ahead in terms of scale and attention in Ireland, and Croke Park sits between these two clubs as a daily reminder.

But on a bank holiday Monday afternoon, Dalymount doesn’t feel second to anything. In fact, for the four thousand here, this ground is the centre of their universe.

It gives you the feel that the League of Ireland is on the surge, offering an unfiltered version of the sport that the English Premier League no longer does.

And as for the Bohs fans, I was blown away. They don’t sit waiting around for a game to give them something to cheer for. They create it themselves.

From the first minute, it’s constant. It’s not forced and it’s not staged, it’s just relentless, non-stop noise. It feels like what’s happening in the stands is just as important as what’s happening on the pitch.

Right at the centre of that noise is “The Notorious Boo Boys”. The name gives the impression that they’re critical moaners, but far from it — with flags, flares and drums on repeat, they’re the club’s ultras.

Setting the tempo, they drag the rest of the ground along with them. The “boos” are directed towards the opposition and the ref.

The ref doesn’t get a second’s peace. Every decision is questioned, met with a wall of noise. Every delay is called out.

For every 50/50, a foul is demanded, and every refereeing hesitation is met with a roar from this relentless crowd. The fans don’t sit and watch the game — they drive and dictate it.

Shels fans brought the noise too. They didn’t show up just to make the numbers. I’d seen it at their impressive away show to Rovers a few weeks back, where they outshone the home fans, and for moments here they gave as good as they got.

As for the game itself, it seemed like it was heading towards an away win for Shels. Cue Harry Vaughan (whose chant to the tune of Daddy Cool was the soundtrack to the second half and has been stuck in my head ever since) hitting one from the edge of the box.

Dalymount erupts and the Des Kelly Stand just snaps.

It was absolute limbs.

It was absolute scenes.

It was absolute chaos.

Bodies surging forward. It genuinely felt like we were going to spill over onto the pitch, like the white line between fan and player was about to disappear. You could feel how close it was but it just about holds as security pull fans down from the fence.

It’s not what happens on the pitch that makes you feel connected to a club. It’s what happens off it. It’s the culture, the traditions, the community.

It wasn’t a team I’d been searching for. It was a club. It was identity, culture and community. And it was in that moment of chaos, between the terrace and the pitch that…

I think I finally found what I’ve been looking for.