It was no less a historical figure than Eamon de Valera himself who once claimed that – after their own native county – the county most loved by Irish people is Dublin.

Now that comment will surprise many of us, not least the good people of the Banner County of Clare who faithfully returned the same Dev to Dáil Eireann as their representative for more than fifty years. True, our capital city and county have many justifiable claims on our affections. So much of our most important historic events took place on its streets and in its meeting rooms. It was, indeed, at one time the second city of the Empire and it still retains its commensurate legacy of Georgian streetscapes and elegant public buildings. But the second favourite place in Ireland for the rest of us? It must have been one of those moments when the great man looked into his own heart to divine the views of the Irish people… and got it wrong.

In an earlier era, another great patriot, Thomas Davis, the founder of the Young Irelanders, was unhesitating in his choice. Wexford. ‘No county in Ireland is fitter for freedom than Wexford’, Davis wrote in his newspaper ‘The Nation’ in 1843. ‘Twixt Croghan-Kinshela and Hook Head, twixt Carnsore and Mount Leinster, there is as good a mass of men as ever sustained a State by honest franchises, by peace, virtue and intelligent industry and as stout a mass as ever tramped in stubborn battle’, wrote Davis.

Maybe if Dev had been a bit more of a hurling man and less of a Blackrock College rugby man he might have reached a different conclusion. Because, for GAA followers, few counties have contributed more to the colourful warp and weave of our Association than the Model county, the Yella Bellies, the Slaneysiders or whatever nickname yer havin’ yerself.

In fact, it was Thomas Davis who first referred to Wexford as ‘the Model County of the South’. In agricultural matters, traditionally the Wexford farmers were what we call these days ‘early adopters’. Indeed, in the pioneering days of the old Agricultural Institute it was an accepted maxim that if there was a new crop of potatoes to be tried out, a new strain of bees to be tested or an innovative way of winnowing corn, the place to try it first was Wexford. If it could be done at all, the Wexford lads and lasses would do it and their method would become the ‘model’ for other counties.

The origin of the name ‘Yella Bellies’, however, is much more shrouded in myth and folklore. One version tells of a 17th century hurling match between the men of Wexford and the men of Cornwall, a Wexford landlord by the name of Caesar Colclough and King William of Orange. As was the custom in those pre-GAA days, many teams wore a coloured sash to distinguish themselves from their opponents. The Wexford team wore a sash of yellow or orange. Though this may be the first recorded conjunction of the words ‘orange’, ‘sash’, ‘William’ and ‘hurling’ in the same story, Wexford historians maintain that the sash was yellow and was not worn in honour of Dutch Billy. Sadly, the Celts of Cornwall prevailed on the day, but as the players departed the field, the King was heard to remark: ‘My lord’s Yellow Bellies did right well’. And so the nickname began.

For many outside the county, the name of Wexford is synonymous with hurling and with names like the Rackard brothers of Killanne. Yet, on a day when both their hurlers and their footballers take to Croke Park in legitimate pursuit of Leinster glory, it is worth recalling the county’s footballing heritage.

Wexford was the first county to chalk up the remarkable achievement of winning four senior All Ireland football titles in succession. Indeed, from 1913 to 1918 they were undefeated as Leinster champions. A fine Kerry side defeated them in the ’13 and ’14 All Ireland finals. In 1914 they led by five points at half time but the Kingdom brought them to a replay. In the second game, they again built up an impressive lead only to be pipped at the final whistle.

The following year, the great run began with a sweet avenging victory over Kerry. In the Rising year of 1916, the All Ireland football final was played in the week before Christmas and Wexford easily disposed of a feeble Mayo challenge. There was plenty of carol singing that Christmas in Kilmore Quay. The 1917 final saw an interesting combination of Wexford against Clare as the Model County made it three in a row. The 1918 final against Tipperary is regarded as the finest hour of a great team. Wexford trailed at half time and only scraped victory through a Jimmy Redmond point with seconds remaining. Their reign as consecutive All-Ireland football champions lasted three years, seven months and 21 days.

Earlier this year, in an auction organised – ironically – by a Kilkenny firm a well heeled collector forked out €24,000 for a share in Wexford’s four-in-a-row glory. That was the price paid for the full set of four gold medals apparently won by a player named Jim Byrne. The magnificent medals, in nine carat gold, were made by Hopkins & Hopkins & John Millar of Duke Street, in Dublin, in the traditional Celtic cross design and were each fully inscribed on the back. A single medal from the 1918 victory went for €7,600.

That particular auction underlined how Celtic Tiger wealth has sparked great interest in GAA memorabilia. It might be no harm to check under the settle bed when you get home to see if there are any old programmes from the Thirties or Forties lying around. Obviously, scarcity value adds to the price purchasers are willing to bid. That is why today’s programme, albeit containing an article by An Fear Rua, is unlikely to command a premium for many years to come. But a modern era Wexford All Ireland medal … especially in football … now that is something even the likes of Sothebys and Christies in London might be interested in.

Still, Kilkenny and Laois will have their say in the matter first. And there’s only one kind of result they’re interested in and it has nothing to do with auctions.

First published in the match programme for the Leinster Hurling Final 2007