Thoughts and prayers for those tasked with finding the words to sum up that All Ireland final. The best most of us could do would be to quote Liam Sheedy on RTÉ after the game, and leave it at that: “My God.” Just the 998 short of the requested count. But look it, sometimes there just aren’t enough words.
As Dónal Óg Cusack put it when asked to analyse Tony Kelly’s sorcery (we need to be more specific here because there was an abundance of it: the goal), “It’s nearly destroying it talking about it, we should just shut up and watch.” Apply that to the entire game. And watch it on a loop. Bloody glorious.
Come full-time in normal time, when Damian Lawlor spoke to Cork legend Seanie McGrath pitchside, what was most striking was the hush in the stadium. Pre-match, Brendan Cummins had to break the sound barrier to be heard above the din when he chatted with Damian, but now, at most, there was just a murmur.
The fear, of course, was that the place had emptied, the bulk of the attendees already on trains, planes and automobiles heading for home, unaware that extra-time would be played.
Tony Kelly conjured up the required magic for Clare when nothing short of it would have sufficed
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But, as it proved, the crowd just had no energy left to chat, all of it having been expended watching “a game for the ages”, as Liam described it. Seanie told Damian that he needed a pint to revive himself. “And I don’t even drink.”
By the end of it all, even the referee was limping, his hamstring having given out, while the pitch was strewn with banjaxed players whose bodies could take no more. Those additional 20-plus minutes might have been a joy for those of us who never wanted it to end, but, to quote Marty Morrissey, “Would you ever go ‘way and come back in two weeks?”
Dónal Óg wasn’t best pleased about extra time being played either, suggesting it was the ultimate downside of a squeezed “microwave season”, and that was the regret on an otherwise exceptional day, that it ended like this, with fellas who’d played the games of their lives physically incapable of giving any more when it mattered most. When Michael Duignan beseeched the heavens to grant us a draw, and therefore a replay, you suspect he spoke for the nation.
Well, apart from Clare.
Before it all, Dónal Óg was marvelling at the notion that there were Cork folk out there approaching their 20th year on earth who had never seen the county win a senior All Ireland hurling title. Anthony Daly half wondered if that had resulted in a more humble set of Rebels. And then Donal talked about Liam MacCarthy going “home” if Cork won. “HOME?!” Anthony chuckled, and shook his head.
Clare, of course, had suffered their own drought, although it was close enough to half the one endured by Cork. “Are you alright?” Joanne Cantwell asked Anthony on a couple of occasions, the answer generally in the negative. Nerves shredded. And that was even before extra time.
Match time and Marty’s monologue included him saying hello to several countries in their own languages, his address to France likely to feature heavily in Reeling in the Years. And then we were off and Cork had the game won in no time, Robert Downey scoring the first of the day’s goal of the century contenders. But it was a half of several halves, the scores level at the break, Clare leaving the pitch with a ‘we haven’t gone away, you know’ look about them.
Second half. That Kelly goal. “That’s 20 years practising out the back,” said Michael. Later, Dónal Óg described his overall display as “a performance for the ages”, even moved to quote the Yeats man. “How do we know the dancer from the dance? That was beautiful what he was doing out there.”
It was too. A gem among a whole bunch of jewels on a very special day. Mighty men, the lot of them.
“This is a monumental day,” said Anthony, the fella nigh on stretched. “Are you alright?” asked Joanne again. He was never better. A Banner Day. But hopefully the last time we’ll see extra time added to the occasion. These lads deserve better.
