THERE were two pictures of our Eurovision hopeful Niamh Kavanagh in one of the daily papers last week – one from when she won the competition in Millstreet back in 1993 and a contemporary one from in Norway – and the funny thing was that the one from 17 years ago was way more familiar.

It gets that way eventually when you live your life in the past, when Reeling In the Years looks like the news, when ESPN Classic looks like Match of the Day, when the only concerts you go to are performed by superstars who could have arrived at the venue on their free bus pass.

The last Eurovision entry I remember is the McCauls, because I lived in Athlone, when Joe and Donna – in realty two of the nicest young people you could meet – were the butt of everyone’s joke.

But most of the Eurovision songs and singers I remember are from the seventies; Red Hurley with When, Sandie Jones with Ceol an Ghrá, Maxi with Do I Dream, Tina with Cross Your Heart, the Swarbriggs – on their own or Plus Two – CT Wilkinson with Born to Sing.

Of course we remember Johnny Logan and our other winners – but who was Kiev Connolly in 1989 or Kim Jackson in 1991 or Jump the Gun or Maria Christian?

And when we got into the new millennium, where did we find Dawn Martin, the Mullans, Eamon Toal and Gary O’Shaughnessy? And where are they now?

It’s the same with sport - I could name the Liverpool, Chelsea, Manchester United and Arsenal teams of the early seventies but I’d be hard pressed to recognise half of them these days.

I can remember Chelsea’s David Webb heading the FA Cup Final winner in 1970 off the back of Ian Hutchinson’s famous long throw; Arsenal’s Charlie George on his back after scoring the winner against Liverpool in extra-time in 1971; Mick Jones crossing for Allan Clarke’s diving header to see off Arsenal in 1972; Ian Porterfield’s winner for Sunderland on the day that Jim Montgomery made a wonder double save against Leeds, Kevin Keegan’s brace against Newcastle a year later.

But ever since Manchester United revealed the Emperor was wearing no clothes – when they opted out of the FA Cup altogether to concentrate on their World Club aspirations – the FA Cup has all the allure of the old Milk Cup.

For more, read this week's Galway City Tribune.