Paul Fennessy

Updated at 10.09

YOU WOULD be hard-pressed to find many individuals in the League of Ireland who have had a longer tenure at one club than Matt Kavanagh.

But if it wasn’t for a life-changing accident, the groundsman would not have had such a long affiliation with Drogheda United.  

Kavanagh took on the role at the Louth club in 2002 — the year before Paul Doolin became manager.

The 72-year-old has seen plenty of note during that period. In 2007, the club were crowned Premier Division champions for the first and, so far, only time.

Less than a year later, they almost went out of existence owing to financial issues.

2024 was another dramatic season. Drogheda were involved in an FAI Cup final and a promotion-relegation playoff in the space of a week, ultimately winning both games to turn a potentially disastrous campaign into an unforgettable one.

And more good times might be around the corner. Kevin Doherty’s side, who switched to full-time football ahead of the 2025 campaign, are the surprise league leaders ahead of tonight’s clash with reigning champions Shelbourne.

“Looking at it at the moment, there’s no reason why they can’t [win the title],” Kavanagh tells The 42. “We’re still short a few players we’re waiting on to come back… If they get their place back now, the way the boys are playing.

“But they need someone to score 20 goals a season or so, like every other team needs.”

Kavanagh has always been a Drogheda fan but would not be in his current role were it not for a moment of painful trauma.

It’s been over 20 years since the “bad accident”.

There was a gas explosion at the local factory where Kavanagh worked.

“I hurt my back, burned my face, a few things, but nothing too bad,” he says. “But like a lot of things, thinking about what could have happened was nearly worse than what did happen. And I found it hard to go back. I worked all my life indoors, and it was very hard to go back indoors again.

“If I go into a shop, I can’t wait to get out. If I go into a shopping centre, [I get stressed] if I can’t see the [exit] doors, I just used to stand outside away from my wife while she’d be doing the shopping.”

Kavanagh was “traumatised by the whole thing” and “in a bad way for a few years”.

It would not be an exaggeration to suggest football saved the popular local figure. At the very least, it gave him a purpose again.

He had a period of inactivity, coupled with constant nightmares relating to the accident about getting attacked by dogs or with knives, along with regular trips to the psychiatrist.

He was “getting depressed,” and doctors advised Kavanagh to “start doing something”.

Kavanagh recalls: “I started on a scheme, right? And I got into Drogheda United just up the road from me.

“It wasn’t a job. But I was working there, just keeping the place clean and tidy. And then one of the times, [the club's hierarchy] asked me: would I be interested in looking after the pitch, cutting the pitch and that.

“So I didn’t know much about it at the time. But I had a bit of a farming background, we had a farm ourselves when I was growing up.

“And got into it then, so we had a fella called Ian McMullan. He was the main contractor. On one half of the pitch, he was doing all the big, heavy work. I was just doing the divots and cutting it. That was my main thing, just cutting the pitch and keeping it right. He was delighted with me the way it was.

“I kept it cut a few times a week. That’s the main thing, to keep it cut, so that’s how it started.”

Kavanagh pictured at work.

This task has not been without its challenges.

“We only had one mower for a while,” Kavanagh explains. “When I moved in there first, we had no mowers.

“We had nothing. There was a dispute over the pitch, the pitch wasn’t cut. And we got Ian McMullan in. And then he had a mower there, and he left it there.

“So I was asked: Could I start working on it? I did. I got used to it.

“It has got easier. We have a couple of mowers now.

“Once you have a good mower and fork, that’s all you need.”

And like many people in the League of Ireland, Kavanagh is a volunteer.

It may not be a paid position, but the role gave him something more valuable than money — peace of mind.

“I got over it all with the help of being up here in the club. Because it was more like a hobby, it wasn’t work to me, and it still isn’t.

“It was very hard to hold down a job, but this suited me down to the ground. You can come and go when you want, you know that kind of way?

“The standard and how I look after the pitch — I didn’t know much about it [in the beginning]. But I really got into it, and I’ve been doing it for over 20 years now.

“I don’t try to get it better than someone else’s pitch. I just try to get it better than last week. It doesn’t always happen because of the weather and the way the game was played on Friday night, but that’s the way to do it. Always try and get it better than the last game.”

Kavanagh says he does not need a financial incentive to take pride in his work and adds he doesn’t “feel” like someone who is turning 73 in a couple of months.

“It’s very hard to get someone who’s really into as much as I am. You know what I mean? You want someone to take pride in what they’re doing if they put their name to it.

“If you can put your name to something, that’s the main thing. And I’ve a new chap with me now, and he’s really into it. And it’s really hard to get anyone like that.

“So he can take over from me, hopefully, or it can get him into a job, but I can’t do everything. My wife, at the moment, has dementia, so I’m tied down a lot now.”

Kavanagh, however, insists he has no immediate plans for retirement.

“It gets me out and about,” he explains. “I’d be lost without it.”