In 2014, Dublin lost to Donegal by six points in the All-Ireland semi-final. It was a comprehensive six-point defeat, one that remains so vivid in my mind’s eye even now. That Dublin team walked off the pitch having lost the game and with it the All-Ireland title we had won the previous year. There was no Sam Maguire for us. The scoreboard suggested that we didn’t succeed.
It depends on what way you measure success, however. Some examples: we were a really close group already but after that game, we became even more connected; we were challenging ourselves regularly but after that game, we tried to ask ourselves the right questions relentlessly; we felt the energy of our supporters up and down the country – after Donegal, we came to understand how to tap into that support to get us over the finish line many times in the following years.
So, success isn’t always measured on the scoreboard. Intercounty football is full of hidden wins, happening in the blink of an eye, unrecognisable to onlookers. For players, however, they’re completely obvious. It’s what they train for. It’s a specific frequency that they operate on. When connected, it’s powerful.
It’s hard to explain but, for a player, something just feels different. It’s a genuine buzz. You can’t help but smile with enthusiasm. Especially when this hidden work happens in harmony across a pitch. Having enough subtle things in the game to celebrate in theory gives you the best shot to win – but winning can’t happen for everyone.
The next nine weekends will eventually come down to four teams competing for two trophies. The Tailteann or Sam Maguire Cup can only end up on two bus journeys home. Three weeks from now, 17 county teams will be in a position where they have no more games to prepare for. No more gym sessions, no more opportunities to test your skills under extreme pressure and no more opposition tendencies to study. So, that’s 17 teams who will break up for the year. What is success for them?
For a moment, let’s take a look at Leinster rugby. Their season has ended in one-point defeats to Munster and La Rochelle in successive weekends. No trophy to show. No success? That seems to be the judgment across the board at least. But, for me, the truth is there are many positive elements on and off the pitch worthy of taking note of. New perspectives. Relationships that formed at a profound level beyond just professional sport. Families that got to experience each other’s company across many months.
And, if that’s all a bit abstract, look at how they connected on the pitch. Look, for example, at Dan Sheehan’s first try last Saturday. Focus on the seven seconds it took to score it, inside the opening 45 seconds of a European final. Watch how expertly the constituent parts of it came together.
Four players combined, performing elite behaviours in unison. A pinpoint accurate lineout ball, thrown at the right time by Sheehan. A decoy jump by Ross Moloney to distract the opposition. Simultaneously, an angled run by Jack Conan to exploit space most likely identified pregame. An obscure cutting run by Jamison Gibson-Park across La Rochelle’s Uini Antonio’s path stopping from being able to get contact on Conan. A trailing support run and a well finished try by Sheehan.
It’s outstanding to watch it all happen. A result of thousands of hours spent together for those seven seconds. The roof came off the Aviva Stadium. It’s the apogee of performance, really. You could say it’s not worth much now to Leinster. The result shows that they didn’t win. Their season is finished with no trophy. But, that’s a very narrow definition of success.
[ Dublin and Kildare secure places in Leinster minor football finalOpens in new window ]
For any team, defining success is critical. The on-pitch goal might be to win but the focus doesn’t deserve to go there when determining success for a team or a player. Maybe it’s the development of a person’s true inner confidence enhancing interpersonal skills for life. Maybe it’s simply creating a playing environment where all the players feel psychologically safe to express themselves – and they can’t wait to hop out of the car each Tuesday and Thursday.
Players crave a sense of achievement. How am I measuring against the goal that is personal to me and helping my team or team-mates? As a coach, can I push the right buttons at the right time to see the magic shine through? I am not suggesting to focus solely on the abstract wins or accept a performance not aligned to potentially winning. Of course, teams and players want to win. There are different ways success looks, though.
For Sligo, it could also be getting 3,000 people into Markievicz Park last weekend playing against Kildare in the All-Ireland series. That’s over 2,000 more people than most of their home league games earlier this year. Plenty of them were kids and plenty were long-time supporters.
They saw their team really compete. They saw Niall Murphy kick six scores and Seán Carrabine kick four from play. They got a point on the board where most people had them down as highly likely to end up with none.
So, maybe success for Sligo is the supporters leaving Markievicz Park and walking back down Pearse Road towards town with a unique feeling bubbling through them. Inspired by the energetic roar on the terraces when David Quinn kicked their equalising score in the 78th minute. Try telling them that winning Sam Maguire is the only measure of success.
[ Hannah Tyrrell: ‘I will do anything to get that All-Ireland’Opens in new window ]
Even in a winning team, the scoreboard is often only a part of the success. Take Mayo, who won in Killarney. When they did their analysis afterwards, what did they take away as success? Victory was important, obviously. So was having 11 different scorers, though. As was having 77 per cent of their scores come from open play.
No doubt they have worked hard at their technical skills in training over the past number of weeks. With dozens of shooting drills, training matches and personal practice or “extras” for lads to hone their shooting. To bring that on to the pitch with you and turn it into a 1-19 total away from home in a championship game will have felt like real success.
Sport brings relentless pressure, which, in turn, presents opportunity. Sport is also ruthless, however, and you get what you deserve from my experience. For the eight teams competing this weekend, success can’t solely be judged on the result. Can you get enough parts of your environment to celebrate?
Maybe that then brings victory on the day anyway.
