From Carlow with Love

Forward Nyanyiwa Recently in Harare, Zimbabwe

For a fleeting moment, as the excitement of the occasion momentarily suspended time, it felt as though we had been transported to the grounds of Carlow College—the cherished home of Carlow Cricket Club. But no, this was Harare Sports Club, where the Ireland senior men’s cricket team had arrived to face their long-standing rivals, Zimbabwe, in a three-match ODI series.

The blazing sun and the unmistakable warmth of 26-degree temperatures quickly reminded us that we were far from Carlow’s crisp and often chilly weather. Instead, we stood in the heart of Harare, where a gentle, humid easterly breeze whispered across the meticulously kept Sports Club grounds.

Above us, birds perched delicately on swaying pine trees, their melodic songs interchanging in perfect harmony—a striking reminder of the tranquil scenes at Penney’s Park back home in Carlow.

A moment of déjà vu.

Yet, no one could fault us for feeling this way. Within the Irish supporters' bay, the atmosphere was undeniably Carlovian—a home away from home.

The vibrant green, white, and orange of the Irish colors painted the stands, uniting us all in a silent bond of patriotism and camaraderie. Not even the pulsating drumbeats, the rhythmic shaking of shackles, or the exuberant whistling of Zimbabwean fans could dampen the spirit that filled the Irish bay.

As the two teams made their way onto the field, emotions ran high. The Irish players strode in with unwavering confidence, their dark green uniforms evoking images of the spirited St. Patrick’s Day processions along Tullow Street. It was a sight to behold.

Among the crowd of just over 100 Irish supporters, there was something particularly striking—something that turned heads. My wife and I, draped in Irish regalia and proudly waving the Irish flag, stood out in an unexpected way. As Zimbabweans cheering for Ireland, we were an anomaly.

The intrigue began the moment we arrived in the parking lot, where our car—adorned with Irish stickers—caught the attention of passersby. The contrast was unmistakable: here we were, speaking in Zimbabwean vernacular, yet passionately celebrating Ireland.

As we entered the Irish bay, a moment of silence fell upon the crowd. Then, curiosity took hold.

“How come you’re supporting Ireland when you look Zimbabwean?” a friendly Irishwoman asked, her smile radiant with amusement.

My response took her by surprise: “We live in Carlow—Ireland is our second home.”

A wave of applause erupted, and to our amazement, we received a standing ovation. It was a heartwarming moment of unity, a shared love for the game and the team that had become such an integral part of our lives.

A woman seated nearby leaned over and beamed. “I flew in from Dublin with the team, and I’m delighted to see you supporting us. You are truly one of us.”

Among the Irish supporters, there were fans who had traveled from across the globe, others residing in Zimbabwe or neighboring South Africa. But in that moment, one thing was certain—we were the only ones from Carlow, and our love for Ireland had never felt stronger.