25-07-2025
From Croker to the Hills: how one song defines Donegal GAA pride
Sunday, September 23rd, 2012. I'm freshly fifteen years old, and standing in the lower Davin stand. I'm with my older sister, and we're alone in a crowd of eighty thousand people.
The final whistle was blown, but we couldn't hear it in the sound vacuum we had discovered in Croke Park.
It was only when we saw a sea of green and gold raise their arms that we knew that Donegal had won the Sam Maguire for only the second time in the (at that time) 128-year history of the GAA.
The overwhelming joy I felt was immediately replaced with anger; why the hell were they playing Hall of Fame by the Script, and not Las Vegas In The Hills Of Donegal by Goats Don't Shave when the match had finished?
Watch, via RTÉ Archives: Goats Don't Shave perform Las Vegas In The Hills Of Donegal, circa 1991
Since the song's release in 1992, it's come to define the county, and what it means to those who live there. I can't remember the first time I ever heard the track, because it feels like I was born with the words in my mouth. Being a Rosses man (Rann na Feirste mother, Dungloe father; like a modern day Montague and Capulet), the Goats were the soundtrack to many a trip along the N56. Highland Radio on in the Honda Civic, Charlie Collins providing pre-match commentary, plain ham sandwiches in the tinfoil to be ate in Ballybofey when we arrived.
And of course, we had no idea what a "chicken ranch" was.
Listen: Goats Don't Shave frontman Pat Gallagher on Las Vegas In The Hills Of Donegal
The more time that passes from the track's first play to now, the more incredulous I get at how the lyrics don't seem to age at all. Of course, not every cultural touchstone has remained; you'll be hard pressed to find someone in their twenties who has any idea of who Neil Blaney and Brigitte Nielson are. Donald Trump did find his "chunk to live in solitaire" in Ireland, but found it in Doonbeg, rather than Inishowen. But the general feeling of being from Donegal has not changed vastly in the past 30 years.
"The Forgotten County" isn't a nickname that appears out of thin air. Lonely nights on the Atlantic coast can feel like where you are is "still a mystery" to the rest of the county, where even getting public transport seems like too much of an ask for some. It could be easy to feel ignored when issues like poor building regulations, road safety, and access to important public services don't feel prioritised. But why kick yourself when you're down? Why not embrace the positives of living in one of the most beautiful landscapes in the world, with a rich cultural history and the friendliest communities in the country?
One phrase that's been bandied about in regards to Jim McGuinness' Donegal team is a "siege mentality". They've built a wall around Donegal, and are embracing the riches within. Of the 2012 team, only Paddy McBrearty and Michael Murphy remain in the squad, with the Glenswilly man returning in a fashion not unlike another successful Michael.
It's not only the squad that have a hunger for Sam to return to the hills - there's over 160,000 people supporting their every move.
Eventually, Goats Don't Shave played over the speakers in 2012 - I hope I hear it again this Sunday.
