Inside Track: There was keen but friendly rivalry between this paper and the Standard

My days in printing with the Democrat weren’t the happiest of my career. Long out-of-date machinery and a work regime that included a 10 o’clock start on a Friday morning and didn’t end until around 7 the following morning, with just a few hours respite in between, were difficult, unsuited to someone trying to win a few games for club and county on a Sunday.

Still, it was employment, just as it had been for my father. It was also the training ground for one of the next generation. For that, we were grateful.

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When I was manning the machine which got the sheet on the street each week, one of our rivals was The Northern Standard, fighting out of Monaghan Town.

Carrickmacross was the main battleground, shops like Keegan’s and Birdy’s carrying both titles. Sandy Fennell and Joe McCabe were just two of those who sent copy from the Farney to Earl Street.

But along with the rivalry, there was a willingness to help out.. Without it, the Democrat would have missed a couple of editions.

The Cossar, the German-made machine on which the Demo was printed, packed it in one week. The damage was such that there was no way it could be repaired immediately, or for some time afterwards.

Problem solved when a call was put in to Patsy Smyth, the Standard owner, many of whose family, if not them all, drew a wage from the ‘paper over the years.

‘Come on over’ was Patsy’s reply when the call went into him. His machine was similar to ours, and with both ‘papers coming out on different days, there was no overlap.

My boss, Tom Roe, once told me that whenever there was a meeting of newspaper owners from the area discussing problems, Patsy would be maybe the only one to exude confidence. “We’ll see it out,“ he’d say.

I only read the Standard on a few occasions, each time to look up a report of a match between Louth and Monaghan in which I was involved.

No need to worry about what the Democrat had to say – with Paddy King, my mentor, doing the writing, if I had played well, readers who weren’t at the game might be thinking, this guy must be the next Tom Conlon. But if it was the opposite, maybe me responsible for giving away a goal or two, Paddy would sing dumb.

In one of those Faneside battles, I was in direct opposition to my namesake, Joe Carroll, formerly of Inniskeen Grattans and a Railway Cup player with Ulster, but now firmly in the Dundalk Seán O’Mahony’s colours. I read the Standard report, and like Joe, wasn’t sure which one of us had the good game or the stinker.

I knew Patsy Smyth and many of his sons from our shared interest in greyhound racing and coursing. Many a good one was brought over from Monaghan, and it’s probably only those of a diminishing generation that would remember a dog called Bicycle Bill.

You could say he had a comical name, but it was for his winnings exploits on the track that BB won many admirers at the old Ramparts track.

Patsy has passed, and there’s a danger the ‘paper he bought in 1971, building it, with the help of his family, to become one of the best-sellers in the north-east, will go the same road.

Its final edition is being printed this week, but for the sake of those employed there, let’s hope that Phoenix-like, it rises from the ashes under a new owner.

The challenges facing weekly ‘papers are huge. Going online is seen as the only way forward.

Maybe it’s the Luddite in me, but I think it’s hard to beat spreading the broadsheet or tabloid out on the table. The crossword is good to tackle, while the stories, accompanied by photos, have an authenticity.

And what about those sportspeople who keep scrapbooks? Will it come to a time when they call the younger generation aside, and instead of opening the ledger to show them evidence of deeds from other days, they start flicking through their hand-held device?