Review by Georgina Brennan

After seeing Riverdance for the first time on Saturday night at Radio City Music Hall, I desperately wish I stuck with Irish dancing.

My mother had to beat me into Irish dancing classes — okay, not literally. But she had to have long conversations with me.

I never liked it. I could never get the kicks right and my back was always going the wrong way.

I never thought there was anything cool about it. And cool is everything to a five year old.

But because of Riverdance it is now cool to Irish dance. Because of Riverdance our heritage is shared and loved across the world.

Because of Riverdance Irish people see that we have nothing to be ashamed of anymore, and that we have a great product – ourselves. And as long as shows like Riverdance flaunt that, we will always have our culture to be proud of.

In a world where we seem to be all growing into the same person, a show like Riverdance demonstrates that stories make cultures and history makes people, and sharing those things make us all unique.

Now that 10 years have gone by and Riverdance is playing a limited engagement at Radio City Music Hall, I finally got to experience the best reason to regret not Irish dancing.

Imagine — I’m 28, and other than seeing Riverdance on the Eurovision intermission in 1993, I had never seen the one and only reason it’s sexy to be Irish nowadays.

Actually, it’s not hard to imagine because neither I nor my boyfriend ever had the occasion to go.

“You’ll love it,” said my mother when I told her I had received tickets to the show. She hasn’t seen it either, but she has heard so much about it from her friends that she says if she is ever in a place where it is showing, she will be first on line to get tickets.

That’s the problem, you see, with being from Co. Carlow. Nothing ever comes there, factories close and people leave to do things like work and see shows.

To get to see things like Riverdance you have to be in a place where it is showing. Lucky for me I live in New York. Lucky for me I was given the gift of tickets. Lucky for my boyfriend I brought him along.

When we finally made it through the terrible traffic on the West Side Highway, in a panic I had him pull over on the wrong street. Then I spotted the huge sign lighting up Sixth Avenue.

We have a history of that, getting lost. It’s always my fault. When we first came to New York we walked miles in circles around the bottom of Manhattan looking for the World Trade Center only to spot it as we took pictures outside it.

So we turned the car around and our excitement built as we saw the throng of people crowding the street outside Radio City. As he parked the car, or drove wildly around looking for a spot only to finally have to give it to a valet, he dumped me off to battle the crowds and pick up our tickets.

I could hardly contain myself as I held those precious tickets and waited for him to join me. I was literally jumping up and down as hundreds of people brushed past me into the theater. He finally arrived just as they were dimming the lights and leaned into my ear.

“I have to pee,” he whispered. He said it was all the rushing to make it on time, but I know it was because he was excited.

There we were inside the beautiful Radio City Music Hall. And we were blushing with excitement.

We are probably the only two people in New York who have never been to Radio City, but let me tell you, it is breathtaking. When the usher brought us to our seats we almost died, they were so good.

For a first time experience seeing Riverdance we were in a great place. We were in for a treat.

Then the lights dimmed. The child behind us asked why the lights had gone down. His mom, a veteran viewer of Riverdance, hushed him. I wish she had answered as I was just as curious as he was.

Then they came out on stage, the dancers, and I thought I was at home again. The taps and the kicks and the whoops and the hollers — it reminded me of the country pub my dad plays accordion in.

Everybody gets up and dances and uses their voices to mark beats when they don’t have a bodhran player. The narrator started talking and the little boy complained that he couldn’t understand what he was saying. I could because he talked just like I do.

It was lovely sitting there and feeling like I was at home. I started to cry when they told the story of emigrants leaving and not returning to Ireland.

It’s been four years since Chris and I have been home. He reached over and squeezed my hand. Riverdance moved us.

When the first act ended I screamed with glee and himself and myself almost broke our hands applauding. Then they came back for the second half with the wonderful tap dancing routine. We were blown away.

How in the world had these people made something so beautiful out of rigid backed Irish dancing! As the crowd of dancers came out and beat the living daylights out of that stage floor, every bone in my body was shaking.

When the curtain came down I wanted to get up and make them come out again. I spilled the popcorn standing up to applaud.

As we moved away from the crowds and into the street our heads were still tapping from the beats. A woman was humming the Riverdance tune.

I started singing one of the songs. The crowd was visibly buoyant.

When I was a child my brother used to watch the movie The Goonies over and over and over again. For years that was all he watched.

Now, having seen Riverdance, I finally understand why someone would want to watch the same thing over and over again. The magic of something you love never fades.