Foundations at full-back
A full-back line is often defined by its degree of anonymity. It’s not an area of the pitch that requires the spectacular, the elan associated with wristy forwards or the flamboyance of fielding half-backs. They’re doughty and determined and devout to the cause.
But the immensity of Limerick’s full-back line was so pronounced that the triumvirate must be central to any discussion regarding the Treaty’s superiority. Perspective is needed to start: coming into the game Tipperary boasted the most frightening forward division in the country; yesterday they were kept to 2-14, 12 scores from play which translates to approximately one every six-and-a-half minutes.
If the denizens of Limerick decide to construct statues of Sean Finn, Mike Casey and Richie English, let them off. It’s arguably justified.
Peter Casey was electric; his bombing runs were enough to keep James Barry panting in his sleep for a fortnight – 1-5 from play speaks for itself.
The full-back line laid the foundations.
The partnership of Cian Lynch and Will O’Donoghue were the definition of a midfield tour de force, as elusive as hares in a field.
Again, the full-back line laid the foundations.
With every ball they gobbled, they ironically fed their side with the momentum to drive forward. There have been impressive individual performances in defence over the years but has there ever been such a cold-blooded, collaborative effort from a full-back line? Not many, if any.
Brian Cody was famously awarded man-of-the-match after the 2008 All-Ireland final to highlight the united effort of his side on the day. A similar decision could easily have been made yesterday. Accentuated by hunger and desire, Finn, Casey and English heralded in a new era – no longer is anonymity sufficient for men of their ilk. The bar has been raised.
What they said
“I couldn’t stand in front of the Offaly boys this year and tell them they were going to win a Leinster title because that wasn’t going to happen. I’d like to be able to stand in front of them and say ye have a meaningful chance of winning some title.” – After Saturday’s loss to Laois, Offaly manager John Maughan reflected on the prospect of a tiered championship with Midlands Radio.
Missing a trick
Regardless of what happened at the weekend, nominations were closed. Slammed shut. When it came to picking a performance-of-the-week, nothing could beat the midweek showings.
First off, Cathal Kiely brought the jump leads to Offaly hurling’s stuttering season, accumulating a tally of 20 points in Parnell Park. Hoary generations of Mayo fans were meanwhile reminded of ‘Four-Goal’ Willie McGee and his 1967 All-Ireland-winning heroics, Paul Walsh netting four in Castlebar – albeit at minor level.
Elsewhere, there were two seven-goal thrillers, one in Carrick-on-Shannon and one in Derry which saw the victors fight back from a ten-point deficit. Scintillating stuff all over.
If drubbings take your fancy, Kilkenny went full-blooded Kilkenny with a 26-point win over Laois, though it wasn’t a week to forget for O’Moore tyros as the big-ball practitioners ended the campaign of reigning All-Ireland champions Kildare.
All of this comes as no surprise, under-20 – and minor – players annually providing the best GAA entertainment on offer, making it all the more perplexing that last week’s action took place with shockingly meagre promotion.
Why the association doesn’t further promote the most refreshing spectacles of the summer beggars belief, especially with the current climate so riddled with causes célèbres – from fixture chaos to financial inequality to, perhaps most agitating of all, those grumpy Monday columns.
By the numbers
3: Wexford only hit three wides as they beat Kilkenny to win the Leinster hurling championship final.
Tyrone masterplan
Of all the terms used to describe an auxiliary player in defence, the Finnish probably coin it best. Faecal plugs they’re called – it mirrors the term used to describe the intestinal matter of hibernating bears.
‘Sweeper’ doesn’t sound so bad now does it?
But given the term ‘sweeper’ is looked upon with so much disdain these days, perhaps Mickey Harte could adopt the Scandinavian terminology.
Occasionally in Newbridge, Tyrone were worryingly penetrable at the back, their agility resembling how the constipated bears must move once they awaken from their slumber. Stiff. A millisecond off the pace.
Deficiencies at the back, however, can be allayed by strength in attack, and the sheer volume of scoring options at Harte’s disposal was wholly impressive.
Tellingly, a fortnight ago, Eamonn Fitzmaurice revealed he had hatched a plan to usurp Dublin last year, only never to be afforded the opportunity to test it. Perhaps the same now applies to Harte, the thinking behind the manager’s approach as of yet imperceptible to the naked eye.
Could it be that the porous nature of Tyrone’s defence is intended, and can be used to – as perverse as it sounds – dethrone the Dubs? Harte may just be sitting on something very interesting.
