'The bloodshed made me wonder why we agreed to travel … for a game of football?'

There was only one instance in his lifetime when Anthony Molloy was apprehensive about going out onto a football field.

Monday marked the 30th anniversary of the Shankill Road bombing. The IRA no-warning bomb left in a fishmongers shop claimed the lives of nine innocent civilians, many were women and two were children out shopping on a busy street.

In the days that followed Northern Ireland was plunged into sectarian conflict with a number of revenge attacks carried out by Loyalist paramilitaries. But everyone knew something much bigger was coming. The only question was when and where?

Less than 24 hours after the murderous blast on Shankhill Road, Donegal were scheduled to take on Derry in a huge NFL clash. The Oakleafers were the reigning All-Ireland champions and Donegal, winners a year earlier, were massive rivals.

Because interest in the clash was so high, the Derry county board opted to switch the game to Casement Park to accommodate what would surely be a bumper crowd.

But with the threat of loyalist retaliation for the Shankkill atrocity palpable, imminent in fact, most supporters wisely decided to stay away. But, for some reason, and Molloy still cannot fathom why, it was decided the fixture would go ahead.

“There was no doubt in any of our minds that day that such a high-profile Gaelic football match would have been seen as a real target,” Molloy recalls. “Right up until the last moment you were waiting on someone to say, ‘here, let’s just forget about this. It’s far too risky and dangerous’.

“But that never happened”.

Molloy had crossed the divide back then on so many occasions as the likes of Tom Conaghan, Brian McEniff and PJ McGowan guided the county’s fortunes during his time in the green and gold.

Pre-internet and mobile phones, a senior intercounty football team bus was vibrant, noisy and there was real mischief at play right down the aisle.

But as the border approached, the quietness would inevitably start at the very top and the energy would - almost in sequence - be sucked right out of the vehicle as everyone sat up a little straighter in their seats.

“On this day, it was quiet from the very moment we boarded in Donegal Town. We just didn’t want to be going up the road. There was no noise, no one playing cards. You just sat and looked out the window”.

Molloy says the game itself completely passed him by.

“Anthony Tohill and my ‘friend’ big (Brian) McGilligan were right there waiting for us. I’d a very young Jim McGuinness beside me in the middle that day. God only knows what was going through Jim’s mind.

“I’d usually look for McGilligan right away, on the way in, and look to hit him a good dunt. But I was looking around me, looking above me in fact”.

There was a huge RUC ground presence in Belfast and they paid particular attention to this game. Helicopters whizzed overhead. Donegal were startled and, in the end, suffered a 3-16 to 0-7 hammering.

“It didn’t take a flinch out of Derry. And reading different articles over the years, lads like Joe Brolly, he explained that it wasn’t anything new for their players. They’d seen it all before. But for us, we just wanted to get the hell out of it”.

And Donegal got out of Belfast right away, Molloy says the players didn’t even shower.

“The bus ride home seemed even worse. It was later on in the evening, and tensions were rising by the hour so it was just a really scary place to be. We were so relieved to just get the hell out of it”.

In the end, the loyalists’ ultimate revenge act wasn’t carried out that day, but when it did arrive, it was cold-blooded.

And, on October 30, two gunmen arrived at the Rising Sun bar, Greysteel, Co. Derry, and shot dead eight people and injured 19, shouting “trick or treat” as they opened up on the crowd.

“A week later, my god,” said Molloy. “Like I said, we didn’t want to be there for justifiable reasons and the bloodshed that entire week makes me wonder, to this day, why we ever agreed to travel… for a game of football?” .