As I write this, it’s a sunny September morning and summer is on the wane. It’s been a strange summer for this small emerald but financially dependent isle.

Apart from the gale force wind and torrential rain, the early summer presented us with another piece of lead weight that dragged us down further into the mire. It came from Europe and had a funny way of talking. Yes folks, June saw Trapp’s brave boys remind us of our place in Europe. Nine goals flying past Shay Given did that job REALLY effectively.

The rain poured down as we moved into July. Sport was the furthest thing on our minds as we just wanted one day, no, one hour of sun. But just then a ray of light did burst into our lives and warm our collective skins. The ray was called Katie and she didn’t let us down. The legendary amateur boxer lifted us up in the way that her faith in her own god lifted her up. Hard work matters. Good guys (and gals) can make it to the top. We took the DART to Bray or mitched off work to head into town to welcome Katie and her fellow Olympians home to thank them for turning our high summer into tones of Gold, Silver and Bronze.

But the Olympics only last 16 days, don’t they? Was there anything to keep us feeling that life could be more than just counting the days until that Chopra lad returns to laugh at our accounting skills?

There was and there is and it’s called the Paralympics.

Last week I asked you to marvel at the sheer humanity that was on offer during the opening ceremony. This may sound rather silly but wasn’t it life-affirming to see the parade of nations? Disabled people live there? WOW. Of course they do. What am I thinking of? They were there to compete.

Is there one word that might sum it all up?

Beauty.

That’s it. The beauty of the human body was striking with all it’s human imperfections. The sheer sexiness of a blade runner. The rippling biceps of a wheelchair athlete in full flow. The serenity of an arm slicing through the water. Hold these in your heart and your head.

What were my highlights?

Quite simply the number of medallists.

Darragh McDonnell kicked of super Saturday in the pool. It crept up on us. Saturday tea time. Our minds were floating towards tea and night’s out. Then an Irish arm sliced through water and BANG, we have our first gold.

Jason Smyth, our own Usain Bolt. This guy has the exact same star quality as Bolt. He didn’t just win. He demolished the field just like Bolt. Watch out world. Jayo has landed. Moscow is in his sights next year. If I was Putin, I’d be worried.

Michael McKillop our middle distance king probably reminded Lord Coe of his glory days. Just like Coe and our Jayo, he tore both the 800m and 1500m fields to shreds.

Mark Rohan made Brands Hatch a circuit of gold.

And there were more. Just like Katie, they allowed their rays of sun warm our skin. They are back in Ireland on Monday. Bunk off work or school to welcome them home. They made our summer. Salute them.

Stephen Daunt ”“ Newstalk Journalist

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