I am a self-proclaimed rugby romantic. No shame in that declaration. I wear it proudly. The sport has played a massive role in shaping who I am, how I think, and how I view community. Rugby has a way of sneaking into your life, staying longer than you expect, and quietly influencing the person you become along the way.

The bibliophile in me—yes, that is a real word—salivates at the opportunity to add to my ever-growing collection of rugby books. Sitting high atop that collection are club history books. There is something uniquely powerful about them. Honoring and paying respect to the past is an essential part of growth, whether we’re talking about individuals, clubs, or entire rugby communities.

That said, maintaining and documenting club history is not for the faint of heart. It is a true labor of love—or, depending on the circumstances, a form of self-inflicted abuse. Anyone who has ever attempted to gather old match reports, faded photographs, or half-remembered stories from former players knows the feeling. At times, it feels less like research and more like an archaeological dig, complete with missing artifacts and contradictory oral histories.

I know this struggle all too well.

A few years ago, when my own club approached its 10th anniversary, I naively decided to start writing a club history book. Ten years of history—how hard could it be? The answer, of course, was very. I was in well over my head. What began as an exciting passion project quickly became a reminder of how fragile memory can be and how much effort it takes to properly preserve it. That project has since been tabled for a future 20th anniversary edition.

Now, imagine doing that for a club with 150 years of history. 

That perspective alone sets the stage for what makes Ballinasloe RFC: 150 Years of Rugby such an impressive achievement.

When I eagerly unwrapped Ballinasloe Rugby Football Club’s 150th Anniversary book, I couldn’t have been more pleased. I don’t need to have a personal connection to a club to enjoy its story—good club history transcends geography and allegiance. From the outset, this book exceeded expectations. It is a hardcover (bonus points immediately), well-bound, thoughtfully laid out, and filled with photographs that bring the narrative to life. At 281 pages, it is unapologetically substantial, the kind of book that feels earned the moment you pick it up.

Author Declan Quinn spent three years researching, compiling, and shaping the club’s story into a cohesive and engaging account of Ballinasloe RFC’s past 150 years. Located roughly 45 minutes east of Galway, Ballinasloe RFC is recognized as one of the oldest rural rugby clubs in Ireland—a distinction that carries both pride and responsibility. The dedication required to see a project of this magnitude through to completion cannot be overstated.

One of the most admirable aspects of the book is Quinn’s acknowledgment of the collective effort behind it. This is not presented as a solo triumph, but as a shared endeavor. The acknowledgements section reads like a roll call of clubland itself—former players, volunteers, historians, family members, and supporters—all contributing pieces to a much larger puzzle. It’s a reminder that rugby clubs, at their core, are built by communities, not individuals.

Once inside the pages, the book unfolds chronologically, with chapters dedicated to specific eras of the club’s history. This structure works well, allowing readers to see not just the progression of Ballinasloe RFC, but also the evolution of rugby itself. As expected, accounts from the earliest years—dating back to 1875—are understandably limited. Records were sparse, members long since passed, documentation inconsistent, and memories long faded.

Still, what is available from those early years is fascinating. Match reports from the club’s first decade highlight just how different the game once was—from the style of play to the tone of reporting itself. Reading these accounts feels like peering through a small window into a distant version of the sport we know today.

As the decades progress, the narrative naturally becomes richer. Photographs become more plentiful. Names repeat across generations. Familiar clubland themes emerge—periods of growth, moments of struggle, rebuilding years, and golden eras fueled by committed volunteers and passionate players. Even without having walked the grounds at Ballinasloe, the rhythm of the story feels instantly recognizable to anyone who has spent time in grassroots rugby.

Collections, like these, are so important to maintaining the fabric of our sport. Reading the stories was a great reminder that we’re not alone. Most clubs have enjoyed success and also experienced struggles. What makes this book particularly effective is that it doesn’t try to sanitize history. It embraces the full arc of the club’s journey. Successes are celebrated, but challenges are not ignored. That honesty is what gives the story weight. It feels real. It feels earned.

Ultimately, Ballinasloe RFC: 150 Years of Rugby is more than just a commemorative book. It is a testament to the idea that clubs matter—that places where people gather around a shared love of the game deserve to have their stories preserved.

A staggering amount of time, effort, and care has gone into this project. I am proud and humbled to add it to my collection, and genuinely in awe of everyone who played a role in bringing it to life. For anyone who loves rugby not just as a sport, but as a community and a culture, this book is a reminder of why we do the work to preserve the past—so that the stories don’t disappear when the people who lived them step away.

Interested in purchasing your own copy of this masterpiece? Follow this link to purchase.