Could anyone have foreseen this? Galway, slick and relentless, entered the seething cage of Markievicz Park yesterday and gave an exhibition of total football. The Sligo venue has not been the happiest of hunting grounds for John O'Mahony's men, but this was a performance of ferocious attacking ambition, redolent of their more splendid moments two years ago.
Pity is the last emotion any sports side wants to elicit but watching the home team flounder and die in drenched mist, it was difficult not to imagine that some fatal damage was being inflicted to the very soul of Sligo football. Coming on the back of a well constructed win over Mayo, this was a pitch-black hour for Mickey Moran's evolving team to endure. How far they slid yesterday afternoon, only time will tell.
It was an hour of perfect contrast. Galway were all but singing in the rain so surefooted and mischievous were they in the grease, while Sligo's will and belief just evaporated by the minute. Sometimes, sport is beyond logic, it bends to the freakish and mocks good men for honest effort. This is what happened to Sligo yesterday.
They are nowhere near as bad as four points over 70 minutes but, from early on, it was apparent that there was some malevolent force playing poltergeist with their game. A trail of early - and often implausible - wides set the initial alarm bells ringing, while Sligo's increasing hesitancy in defence seemed to send jittery signals right down the lines.
Galway, meantime, were calm and convincing in the execution of a direct gameplan. Joe Bergin opened a fine afternoon by lobbing a third-minute point and, from there, Galway settled into a groove that looked all the more impressive as Sligo began to wilt.
Michael Donnellan can hardly have put in a more superb hour for his county. The Dunmore flier covered acres yesterday, chasing back in defence, coming deep to pick up ball and initiating many attacks with beautifully measured passes for Padraig Joyce, Niall Finnegan and Derek Savage to work magic with.
When Galway's granite defence was, for once, prised open early in the second half, it was Donnellan who hared back to rupture Gerry McGowan's goal ambitions. He also starred in what was possibly the score of the game, trekking back for a loose ball and turning to embark on one of those searing downfield runs, delightfully linking with Tommy Joyce before casually chipping his point.
That score came smack in the middle in Galway's deepest patch of purple, when they reeled off six textbook points from play to leave the score at 0-20 to 0-2 and another 20 shuddering minutes still to go. Jason Killeen came in to fill the vacancy left in defence and shone throughout a formidable defensive display. Declan Meehan and Sean de Paor excelled again and Gary Fahy had a fine afternoon at full-back.
That Sligo's forward unit were horribly misfiring anyway perhaps put a gloss on Galway's defensive strengths, but they nonetheless showed a backbone that could stand to them later on in the championship. Martin McNamara's kick-outs were as astute as ever and, the one time he was called into duty, after 25 minutes, he parried Ken Killeen's low-driven chance.
Sligo were trailing by 0-8 to no score at this point and, had Killeen managed to net, the score might have resuscitated his team. Instead, they were on the verge of realising the full extent of the nightmare, with Galway fashioning another six points without reply.
Joyce and Savage were a joy to watch, while Finnegan hit a peach of a score from the endline, illustrating that, when things are flowing, nothing seems impossible. Two minutes before that, Savage jinked free and looked set to fire the game's first goal but was instead content to rifle a point. For the expectant home support, the spectacle was hard to fathom. Initial concerns about a slumbering start bloomed to outright anxiety as Galway reeled off the scores. It became hard to fix on any positive aspect of Sligo's game. By half-time, with Padraig Joyce casually soccer-chipping a loose ball over the bar, it was clear that all the home side's ambitions had imploded. The 0-0 score opposite Sligo on the board at half-time was the starkest image for the dazed home crowd.
It will be argued that the splendour of Galway's performance against Sligo has to be qualified by the traumatic fever which gripped their opponents. It is unlikely that Galway will hold a team to four points over the rest of the summer, but they will be raging favourites to return to the capital for the All-Ireland semi-finals and, in what has been a drab championship so far, they possess a welcome surplus of flair and colour.
They reminded the country yet again that the best way to win football matches is to kick points. Their back six look ready for more trying hours while either the highly promising Bergin or O Domnhaill will act as a perfect foil for Kevin Walsh, who is on the slow road back to fitness. And even without poor Ja Fallon, the front six sizzle.
A bleak midsummer disaster, then, for Sligo. But from Galway the most startling battle cry heard in quite some time.
