LOCKER ROOM:Jedward in the Eurovision. Warmth returning to our bodies. Sure we're rolling back the night, comrades
HARD TIMES. Hard times. Hard times. It’s just a year ago since we arrived in Semple Stadium one February night to find the snowflakes hanging dazzlingly in the shafts of light from the great gantries. The sacred sod was coated in white and Brian Cody and Liam Sheedy had a brief walk on the crunchy surface before conceding there would be no hurling. The novelty of it left us all in good humour which scarcely abated when the fixture was postponed for the second time soon after for the same trouble. Snow in Semple.
When finally Tipp and Kilkenny got their 2010 league opener underway it was no longer a league opener but over 20,000 came along on the raw February day anyway. And why not? The previous September the counties had played out an epic and thunderous All-Ireland final. We wanted to see the future. We knew it was Kilkenny and Tipperary.
Since then the sides have done nothing but shine the intensity of their rivalry. Again this September they gave us an All-Ireland final for the ages, a game of wonder and joy which was the best viewed Irish TV event of the year.
For Tipperary, whose history is so long and glorious, there can scarcely be a previous chapter with more drama. For Kilkenny, who stood for a while in that Eden of five in a row with their fingers outstretched only to be told no, it was the end of an epic journey and if you know Kilkenny, just the beginning of a new one. Surprising then on Saturday night to find fewer than 10,000 people in Semple Stadium for the first game of the league, a standout fixture between the two greatest sides in the game. True, some matinee idols were absent from the evening’s performance but the colours were as vivid as ever; the will to win as hard as ever and the relationship between the teams unchanged.
It rained, of course, a persistent depression-era drizzle and a chill which squats in our bones still. We gathered high in the stands under the shelter of the roof and hung together like lowing cattle. Still it was worth it. You’ll always pay money and gladly to see a Shane McGrath or a Tommy Walsh in action. Kilkenny won by the slightly surprising width of seven points but for now that seems insignificant.
Michael Fennelly was awarded the man-of-the-match bauble, a reward which he earned for his influence on the game but at this time of year we like to look at the younger stuff and see what is coming through. Richie Hogan, who had a good night, is still in that category. This year he needs to step out of the category of being a young man with a fine future. It will be two years in May since he was in Semple in the white-hot heat of the 2009 league final. Already by then he had stood poised with his credentials beneath the lintel of the Kilkenny side for quite some time and we thought that if he thrived that day he would become a fixture.
Remember? Near the death, Hogan stood over a free 75 yards from goal and right in front of the Tipp bench. Semple Stadium was hot and crackling and spitting with tension. He couldn’t, could he? He did. The kid put it over and the game rolled to a bruising session of extra-time. Richie was good again on Saturday but this is the year he needs to make the leap. Him and TJ Reid.
Elsewhere young Colin Fennelly got a run, the latest of the celebrated tribe to push for glory. We remember him from the Leinster under-21 final two years ago when he had Peter Kelly of Dublin for four points from right-half forward in Parnell Park. In the times we have seen him since he has seldom looked so good again. On Saturday Cody played him close to goal and virtually from the throw-in for the second half he took possession and dispatched the ball to the net for a straightforward and efficient score. At other times, though, he looked like a man more suited to the prairies out on the wings. His swing was a little too considered and got blocked and hooked by manic backs. Still when he was good he was fine.
And John Mulhall is another young man waiting to impress. He could become one of those beloved figures of the game if he makes it through because his swing is, ahem, less than classical in its style.
Tipperary had a few young faces augmenting their cast of, well, young faces but of more interest was the demeanour of Declan Ryan afterwards. We spoke with Brian Cody first and he was as chilled and relaxed as we have seen him, leaning back against the wall in his black hoodie and baseball cap and waxing on sanguinely about the evening. He has nothing to prove and an entire new challenge to face. He looks like a man who is going to enjoy this year.
Ryan has a trickier job. He knows these players but not in the way they knew Liam Sheehy. He knows the appetite and expectation of success there is in Tipp. All in all it leaves a man with little time to get his feet right under the table and his backside settled in the chair. Big Declan leaned against the wall and picked his words slowly and carefully. There’s a great bravery in taking over a team who are already standing at the pinnacle and it will take a great and flexible mind to keep them there.
Semple was enjoyable as a first immersion in proper hurling this year but Walsh Park in Waterford gave us moments of great pleasure yesterday. Davy Fitz and Anthony Daly continue to circle each other in the world of management. For two years now they have been springing surprises on each other in this fixture.
Yesterday the early surprise was the vigour and variation of Dublin’s play. Conal Keaney has come back to hurling and he hasn’t come back to waste his time. Already the meek championship exits of the last two years look unthinkable for Dublin. And that’s before the spikiness of Mossie O’Brien and Ryan O’Dwyer is put back into the mix. Dublin were wonderful in patches but then again so were Waterford. The hurling, though, was of a quality we had no right to demand at this time of year.
One weekend. Two games. The spring series in Croker upon us; Jedward in the Eurovision. Warmth returning to our bodies. Sure we’re rolling back the night, comrades.
