Keith Duggan finds the Kilkenny maestro DJ Carey as committed as ever to his county's quest to land another All-Ireland hurling title.
An ordinary year in the life of the most extraordinary hurler of modern times: a car crash, a burst appendicitis, a comeback, another All-Ireland final. DJ Carey doesn't chase drama, it just follows him around.
"It's great to be back," DJ is saying. His warmth and natural openness have become an inevitable part of Kilkenny All-Ireland build-ups and it is as if he had never been away. "It's great to be back and an added bonus to be here now for an All-Ireland final when I had honestly given up on the year."
The return of the "Dodger" was mostly down to chance. After writing off his season, DJ left the door ever so slightly open in an interview with Vincent Hogan. "Never say never," he responded if hurling for the Cats in 2002 was out of the question.
Brian Cody read the article, raced to the phone and said, "Well, what do you say now?" DJ declined. Cody pressed and they met and he asked him to think about it. DJ went off to consult the likes of Eddie Keher and Dermot Healy.
"And they said why not give it a lash, even for five weeks. Brian came back and said 'look, all the players want you back, we want you back. Why not? My feeling was that I'd be critical of players not training and here was I coming back into the panel after not training for seven months, taking someone's place on the panel and possibly on the team. So I was wondering was I being hypocritical. Because I said to Brian if I went back my intention would be to start. My intention would be to train in such a way that the selectors would say, 'we have to start him'."
So DJ, not for the first time, went back. He put in six weeks of pure boot-camp, as ferocious as anything that had preceded it. Steady, serious training with his club Gowran sustained him but still, he pushed himself to the limit. And it was not as if the others were standing back to admire the Messiah. There were nights at Nowlan Park when he felt like a veteran who didn't understand the world anymore, when he pined for the more gentle regime of a decade ago.
"Lads would be just tearing out by you to get the ball. They wouldn't be worried missing the ball and you getting in for a goal. They went for it and they weren't fazed by who you were or what you were or what you might have done."
But this is DJ. He adapted and found it was still there and stood in a circle on the Wednesday night before the All-Ireland semi-final when Brian Cody ran through the team. He was excited as a pup.
"Brian's attitude is if you show well in training, you will be in the running. Now they were playing me in the corner and people were saying, 'oh, he must be back in'. But my feeling was that they would have done that anyway to get a look at me. So I didn't know 'til the night the team was picked and it was a real thrill for me too. Then everyone said the pressure was on me. I didn't feel it. I was just asked to go in and hurl as I have always done, in the corner, to do the best I can."
About 2,000 observers realised the futility of doubting Carey and with one lightning hand-pass he illuminated everything it was about him we had marvelled - the speed of thought and the daring to put in motion, the clean bravery, the capacity for being astonishing.
"Well, I probably did okay. I know it was written up as a good game for me but I did my job. You can only mind your own slot. The ball didn't come in that much, it would have been tougher if I was further outfield. I was just doing my best."
As he will on Sunday when he comes up against his sometime golf partner, Davy Fitzgerald. After this, he has other matters to take care of. A disc inserted in his shoulder after his car accident is giving him grief. He could get rid of it in a week's time but he wants to play with his club when the All-Ireland is finished. The shoulder never bothers him on the field, only when he is being mortal. He can live with it. DJ Carey is back in September and his heart is singing.
