Sideline Cut:The GAA broke into a whole new realm of weird injuries this week when an RTÉ news bulletin announced, deadpan, that one of the Sligo players had been hurt during the Connacht championship celebrations when the platform on which the cup was raised partially collapsed.

It was freakish bad luck for the player concerned, John McPartland, who is now doubtful for Sligo's quarter-final. It was also an illustration of how, when all is said and done, the GAA remains a definitively amateur organisation.

The likelihood is the stage was assembled over the weekend by local GAA people who gave their time to make sure Hyde Park looked perfect for the big day. Had events materialised along expected lines, the nuts and bolts of the thing would have had to support only the victorious Galway captain, who would have accepted the cup alone before giving an earnest speech about how delighted he was at becoming the 44th Galway recipient.

Instead, the day took a gripping and transcendent turn. The quality of the football was not particularly memorable, but the great conviction displayed by the Sligo players was. This time, they gave themselves no excuses and refused to be cowed by the shortcomings that have dogged Sligo football teams for 30 summers.

They did not blink when they missed two rudimentary frees of such importance that the wasting of them actually seemed more damaging than Galway points would have been. Nor did they panic when their leader, Eamon O'Hara, had to retire injured.

The last 10 minutes were all about Sligo rebelling against their accepted place in the Connacht hierarchy, and the final whistle meant the stage was going to resemble a wilder version of Riverdance.

Even so, the platform should not have collapsed. It was the only bum note on a day that jolted the football championship into life. Nobody saw Sligo coming. And their victory was felicitous for RTÉ, who launched a new flagship GAA programme on Thursday evening, which will feature Dessie Kerouac wandering the land in search of Gaels great and small. The first broadcast came from the Oliver Plunkett club on Dublin's Navan Road, where two of the Sligo players were warmly welcomed.

Their presence, after all, was a heartening reminder of the basic point of playing a championship. People don't really care whether Kerry or Tyrone ultimately win this year's competition; they care about what their own counties might do, if just for one day in one decade. Sligo, written off as a deadbeat, make-up-the-numbers team before the championship, illuminated what is possible in football. The almost surreal sight of Fermanagh eclipsing Armagh in the All-Ireland football quarter-final three years ago had the same effect.

Sligo are in the last eight of the All-Ireland championship now. And there was something about the demeanour of their manager, Tommy Breheny, and of senior men like Noel McGuire and Kieran Quinn and O'Hara, that suggested they do not intend travelling to Dublin just to enjoy the pre-match parade and the shopping.

Sligo should be - and probably are - telling one another they can challenge for the Sam Maguire Cup.

When a county manages a coup of that magnitude, the question is often asked: "Who would fancy facing them now?" The short answer to that must be, "Everybody."

The truth is Sligo will be regarded as the soft touch among the four provincial champions - even if Monaghan go mad in Clones tomorrow afternoon. And that is a delightful position for the Yeats County. They have senior players who know how to win in Croke Park and there is every chance they will be just as composed and bloody-minded in their next outing.

Sligo's victory might also have saved the provincial championships. The calls for the abolition of the old system have become louder in recent years. The big idea seems to be the introduction of a "Champions League-type format".

The GAA needs to stop borrowing from other sports in searching for ways to improve itself. The way things are going, an All-Ireland final of the not-too-distant future will be decided on penalties.

That word "format" should be enough to kill the idea. The championship is not a format; it is a tradition, as ritualistic and established as Sunday Mass. Sure, the novelty of Leitrim, Derry, Kerry and Dublin playing in one group, for instance, would spark interest in the short term. Black would be the chuckles when it or some other foursome was dubbed "The Group of Death".

But the appeal would lessen when it became apparent the same counties were coming through all the time.

The Champions League is a bore until the knock-out stages. The Champions League is a "product". It is a way of getting men to watch television in the winter.

That the provincial championships are predictable is undeniable. But life is predictable. When Galway meet Leitrim or Kerry meet Clare, then the heavyweight counties will win, most decades and most years. Once in a blue moon, there is a wonderful revolt. The preservation of the provincial championships gives counties something tangible to play for.

If the All-Ireland title becomes the only meaningful prize on offer, the vast majority of counties will be making up the numbers all the time. And where is the fun in that?

Another point about the season is that it is far too long. Donegal, the darling buds of May, are now believed to be paying the price for their league exploits. The Donegal men were correct to go full throttle to try to win their first league title when it came within their sightlines, regardless of how it affected their Ulster campaign.

It may be dangerous to say it, but during the Tyrone match they looked like a bunch of lads who could have used a night out on the beer. They looked jaded.

Timing is everything in the championship. There must be a sense that if Mayo can get out of Celtic Park in Derry alive today, they will suddenly seem an edgy and awkward proposition to other counties. Similarly, Tyrone's mid-league blues are beginning to look like master strategy on the part of Mickey Harte.

Getting the balance right between training and freshness is the great task for any modern manager. The reports leaking from Offaly this week, with the management lamenting how the players were "drinking behind their back" said a lot about what is wrong with the contemporary game.

Maybe it is time for teams to chill out. Instead of the towering, athletic full forward, why not gamble on the small, fat natural-born number 14 who guzzles the vodka and shakes his bits to Meat Loaf on a Friday night but still rattles up pinball scores for the club on a Sunday? Maybe instead of SAQ training and foreign ice baths, players should just be practising kicking points, for hours and hours. They say points win games.

Ask Armagh. It is still hard to believe the Orchard County show is over this year without even appearing on Broadway. It is going to be a duller finale without them. Already, the assessment on Armagh's legacy has begun in earnest. In winning one All-Ireland and an Ulster three-in-a-row while dominating the province for almost a decade, they starred in probably three of the top five football matches of the last half decade (versus Kerry in 2006 and Tyrone in the 2005 Ulster and All-Ireland semi-finals).

At their best they were tough, controversial, brilliant. They deserve to be remembered as a great team, albeit a team that fell just short or securing greatness.

And in all those years and glories, they never had to contend with a falling stage.