Have you ever been in a room with approximately 800 screaming love-sick women and no, I’m not talking about the teenagers featured on the front of the ‘Sunday World’ newspaper a few weeks ago but those of a more, ‘mature’ age? Screaming, wailing, whistling, hungry women who eyeball their prey with precision before going in for the kill.

Little old ladies, many of whom were feeble on their feet, suddenly found a new energy and pushed against each other in a desperate bid to be first in the doors of the Mullingar Park House Hotel last week.

Accompanied by two hardened fans I meekly sauntered behind, somewhat curious as to what it is about the performer here tonight that appeals to so many.

The atmosphere was electric and the blue-rinse brigade were out in force and I thought, as I made myself comfortable in the interior of this fabulous new hotel, there must be a better way to spend a Wednesday night– after all ‘The Bill’ and ‘Fair City’ were on TV– but, I reflected, this is the price you pay for trying to make your mother’s dream come true. Yes, I’d spent the past few weeks trying to arrange for my mother to have a personal audience with the man himself– no, not the Pope, but close enough– Daniel O’Donnell!

I decided to keep this news a secret in case the excitement should prove fatal for my mother who is arguably Daniel’s biggest fan. Picture the scene– having spoken to Daniel’s management team to arrange this meeting I had been instructed to call a certain telephone number and ask to speak to Joe so having equipped my mother and her friend with a stiff drink I discreetly excused myself and went to make that all important phone call.

The phone rang a number of times and then a very familiar soft Northern accent answered– Oh my God! It was Daniel! My knees turned to jelly and my heart beat a hundred times faster and quite frankly I lost all sense of reason. I found myself speechless.

“Hello?” he began again. “Hello, could I speak to Joe please?” I pathetically managed to babble. “Joe isn’t here, this is Daniel,” said the man, confirming my suspicions. I explained the situation to him. He told me to speak to one of the security guards and escort my mother to see him straight away. Then came the difficult bit– breaking the news to my mother, whose face showed shock, horror, excitement and I suspect lust (though she denies this…)

In the past my mother has met many of her favourite people– Gay Byrne, Niall Toibin, Charlie McGettigan, Tom O’Connor, Johnny McEvoy, Charlie Landsborough and Bertie himself but nothing could have prepared her for this moment.

Suddenly, there he was. He appeared like a vision, the hair immaculate, the complexion smooth and that alluring smile which melted the hearts of the two ladies. I decided to take a back seat at this stage and allow the cosy trio to enjoy their five minutes together.

As we all know many Irish mammies harbour deep feelings of affection for the boy from Kincasslagh but there’s something unique about introducing your mother to him. There’s something about this scenario that turns a down-to-earth rational woman who likes a bit of Irish music into a groupie or worse. Be warned, introducing your mother to Daniel O’Donnell will have a funny effect on her and allowing her to embrace him for the all important photograph is certainly a little precarious!

I escorted my mother on very shaky legs back to the main function room where there were some ten women to every man. Some of the males did appear to be genuine fans but others, you could tell, had come along simply as chauffeurs and one suspected that these puzzled men bonding in the hotel lobby were lamenting the fact that their sane wives had apparently lost the run of themselves.

As soon as the lights went down and Daniel appeared in a sharp grey suit the assembled went mad– and I mean mad. They were like a gang of pre-pubescent, hormonally-challenged hysterical teenagers, and I thought I’d missed something huge until I realised that the object of their affections had indeed taken his place on the stage.

Celebrating twenty years in the business and accompanied by a ten-piece band, Daniel belted out a melody of hits from his numerous albums down through the years and love him or hate him, there’s no denying that this man has made a serious impact on audiences all over the world.

You have to hand it to him, he has the ‘X-factor’ and sang everything from ‘Danny Boy’ to ‘It’s a long way to Tipperary’, and ‘I just wanna dance with you’ before a quick costume stage (backstage, thankfully) saw him reappear in a pair of tight leather trousers and a bright red shirt which I felt was a pretty sacrificial choice in a room full of lustful women.

He threw in a few Elvis numbers and rock ‘n’ roll hits along the way and boy, can that man move! He jumped round the stage like a man half his age, he waltzed, he did the splits and he even did an Irish jig.

It is clear from his performance that he is passionate about what he does and that he loves his fans. He gave them great value for money and genuinely appreciates the following he has built up over two decades, waiting behind after every show to meet and greet each and every fan who queued up to speak to him, no matter how long it took.

With that boyish charm, Daniel’s clean-cut image makes him the perfect potential son in law– or so this is how my mother rationalises his appeal. However, as I pointed out to her in the unlikely event that I were to marry Daniel (even if he were single) I very much fear that I would be a guest on the Jerry Springer show in years to come, with the topic ‘My mother ran off with my husband’.

Special thanks to Joe Collum and Daniel O’Donnell.