Left wondering how Con would have portrayed it all

Kerry…1-14

Dublin…1-13

If something looks too good to be true, it generally is. Against that, however, the simplest and most obvious explanation is indeed often the correct one. Such was the case in Croke Park on Sunday last. The meeting of Kerry and Dublin was indeed the game of the season, so far, or, for that matter, of many seasons.

That said, such being a reality doesn’t excuse Ger Canning’s disrespectful blurt that it was “The All Ireland Final in all but name”. As preparation for this piece was being engaged in, one couldn’t help wondering how the giant in every sense of the word, Con Houlihan, would’ve portrayed it all.

I recall his legendary summation of Mikey Sheehy’s goal against Dublin in 1978 “Paddy (Cullen) dashed back like a woman who smells her cake burning, but the ball won the race and Paddy slumped against the side of his goal like a fireman who returns to find his station ablaze”.

Or, when asked how his Friend Girl Harriet Duffin, as a Dub, was coping with said defeat, he simply replied “House Private, no flowers”. Would he have seen the latest incarnation of Ireland’s greatest sporting rivalry as a shifting of the sands? I’m not so sure.

Seeing the likes of Lee Gannon and Sean Bugler and Lorcan O’Dell prominent early on suggested Dublin had found the makings of a new blue wave with the ‘old guard’ like Brian Fenton, Brian Howard, Ciaran Kilkenny and Cormac Costello still performing to optimum levels.

Kilkenny is undoubtedly the most influential of those mentioned thus far, yet the man who has done more to transform Dublin into the phenomenon they have been for more than a decade now hasn’t even entered the conversation yet – James McCarthy.

Has there ever been a more versatile, pivotal and enduring individual player in Gaelic football? It is not stretching the realms of possibility to suggest the Ballymun Kickhams clubman could and would take up station between the posts for the two shades of blue if required. It was instructive enough that it was the Rolls Royce of football who drove at the Kerry defence immediately after Sean O’Shea had crafted and converted a wonderful goal at the other end.

For all that, McCarthy and the inhabitants of Hill 16 and O’Connell Street combined wouldn’t have been able to negate the damage inflicted by Hurricane Clifford. In the first half in particular. If my memory is right, the Fossa colossus scored with each of his first six shots at the target, only missing with a flustered effort immediately after the Dublin goal.

However, there’s many acres to be covered before those two lines meet. O’Shea’s goal left Jack O’Connor’s team clear by 1-08 to 0-06 when the troops downed tools at half way.

It could and honestly should have been even better for The Kingdom but O’Shea’s tamely taken penalty was meat and drink for Dublin netminder Evan Comerford. That, mind you, doesn’t even begin to tell half the story.

Was it a penalty at all? Highly doubtful at best. If it had been any softer it would have been soluble. However, once it was awarded and Comerford failed to hold it, my contention would be that the Kerry forward was well entitled to go for it. In fact, if I were involved with a team and the kicker failed to follow in, he’d be getting the curly finger fairly lively thereafter.

So to Comerford’s role in the drama – up to that point. Once he failed to hold his own save, the opposing players were perfectly entitled to go for the loose ball. Yes, O’Shea’s left boot did make contact, but, we don’t want to go down the rugby route of disregarding whether the contact was intentional or not.

For his part, at a certain level, the ‘keeper is to be admired for using his street smarts during the period John Small was in the Sin Bin. Any player from any team in a similar situation could and most likely would do the same thing. The problem lies not with players, but the GAA’s approach to time keeping.

Allow me to explain. While wary of adopting too many stipulations from other sports, it is beyond question that clock management isn’t one of the Association’s strong points. That said, employment of the system employed in Ladies Football and rugby and and basketball – whereby when the ball is out of play the time is off – would easily disarm exploitation of the flaw in the Sin Bin rule.

Anyway, when the dust had settled after half time, Kerry opened up a lead of five and it looked as if their first win over their greatest foes seemed a done deal. Though such an appraisal wouldn’t pay due homage to a team who have graced the game with such majesty for more than a decade.

With the knowhow, guts and self belief that only the greatest champions are possessed of, James McCarthy and Ciaran Kilkenny pulled the good ship blue up by its boot laces. A brilliant Cormac Costello goal cut the gap to two and though an equally impressive Paudie Clifford point – which arrived at the end of three minutes and fifty one seconds of uninterrupted Kerry possession – and a close range free from Sean O’Shea appeared to have swung the pendulum back to the green corner.

But if a decade of seeing Dublin make football their personal fiefdom has thought us anything it’s that they don’t back down in the face of adversity. Just think of Dean Rock’s free against Mayo some years ago or how the extricated themselves from the jaws of almost certain doom against Kerry in 2019.

Thus, it should really have been no great surprise to see them on the brink of outdoing Lazarus yet again. Nor indeed should the identity of the architects of the heroic effort. Mick Fitzsimons and James McCarthy, you suspect running primarily on lactic acid at that stage, directed the ball upfield for Kilkenny to score twice before – perhaps inevitably – Rock restored parity after a Paddy Small mark was brought forward for reasons unknown.

Extra time it is then, yeah? Hold that thought. The Dublin defence deserve utmost commendation for the manner in which they stifled the twin threat of O’Shea and the younger Clifford after the duo had picked more holes in them during the first half than crows would a stack of baled silage.

Yet on one of the few occasions he did, albeit partially, escape their clutches in the second half, the last named manufactured – and that’s being kind about it – a free at greatest personal expense to Dublin’s David Byrne. Was it a free? I have my doubts.

Now, for a split second it appeared the Kerry No. 14 was going to take the kick quickly. For most teams that would be the obvious out ball. Work it closer to goal and only shoot when the percentage scales have tilted back in favour of the score being taken.

Kerry are not most teams. Especially with O’Shea in their ranks. The centre forward can launch long range missiles with destructive accuracy which would have left a couple of men named George Bush well jealous back in the day.

What followed once the free was awarded was one of those sporting moments that, in 40 years time, they’ll be asking where were you what it happened. Firstly, Clifford had that momentary rush of blood to the head. Then, goalkeeper Shane Murphy bravely strode forward offering to do the needful.

Whereupon the Rathmore clubman was, shall we say, ‘assured’ that his services wouldn’t be required. This was a job for Jack O’Connor’s on-field Captain. He knew it. Everybody knew it. Even allowing for that though, I’m not sure what Evan Comerford thought he was going to achieve by shaking his left hand upright while Seanie was addressing the kick.

In reality, all it succeeded in doing was giving the Kerryman a good guide to what the wind was doing. It would have been very interesting if the free had hit said post and/or gone wide, could or would a re-take have been ordered.

In the end, there were no such concerns, the dead ball specialist started the shot heading out towards where the Kerry bus was parked before it came back in with a power and trajectory capable of landing it behind the bar in Quinn’s.

After all the tumult of the day and everything associated with it, this corner couldn’t help thinking of Padraic Joyce. Observing. Plotting. Planning. All the attention focussed elsewhere. 2001 re-visited? Only time will tell.