Adam Screeney and Rory Beggan were probably never mentioned in the same sentence previously, but such is the magic woven by the AIB All Ireland Club Championships that here we are. Now read on…
There are 10,000 reasons why hurling is the greatest sport in the world, but among the most basic is it really can be a sport for everybody.
Including the disabled, thanks to my dear friend – and the most generous man in Irish sport – Martin Donnelly. Who has been pioneering in his backing of the Wheelchair Hurling Championship.
Indeed, with the GAA’s scandalous apathy towards what will forever be the Railway Cup to me, the magnificent Clare man could do worse than use the beautiful trophy he had commissioned for the shamefully defunct competition for its wheelchair equivalent. Given that the self propelled puc-ing is played on an interprovincial basis.
Even leaving my fellow wheelers out of the equation though, all one need to do is consider Micheal O’Muircheartaigh’s rousing introduction of Sean Og O’hAilpin many moons ago “His father from Fermanagh, his mother from Fiji, neither a hurling stronghold”.
Yet he was one of the greatest ever to play the game. Or if that doesn’t prove the point, consider the following – the gigantic Kevin Hennessey Cork was every bit as big a legend of the game as were diminutive dynamos such as Clare’s Davy Fitzgerald and Padraig Kelly of Galway.
Anybody that has taken in hurling content on these pages in the recent past will know how the wizardry of Offaly youngster Screeney has captivated the one seeing eye in this seat since it was first encountered at some stage last year.
When the Faithful County Minors – under the direction of Limerick’s Leo O’Connor – were desperately unlucky not to attain the Irish Press Cup as Tipperary got an admittedly well taken goal from a free which should have gone the other way as the Tipp youngster on the attack absolutely charged with the ball.
However, even though the Premier County took home the trophy named in honour of the late, lamented newspaper, the one name on everybody’s lips was that of Screeney.
How many times have you seen it over the years that a player stars at Minor level and are thereafter tipped, as Michael O’Leary once said people were making Samcro to be “The next coming of Jesus Christ”? Only for their careers to combust before they have taken off in earnest.
In a football sense, David Clifford could and most likely will be compared to the modern incarnation of J. C. TJ Reid or Cian Lynch probably merit commensurate lauding on behalf of hurling.
If either of the latter named pair require backup, mind you, young Mr Screeney is picking up pace in approaching that plinth. With a clearly prodigiously talented player as in this case, player management becomes absolutely crucial.
The temptation would of course be to elevate the wirey flyer to the highest level as quickly as possible. But the short term gain, if any did manifest, wouldn’t be worth the long term pain which might come as a cost.
It’s probable yours truly wasn’t the only one watching this year’s Joe McDonagh Cup decider wondering whether the impish corner forward in the green helmet would’ve made the difference in getting Johnny Kelly’s men over the line.
However, having seen Brendan Reilly unceremoniously busted by Louth in 1988, there’s actually a modicum of relief in knowing a mercurial talent like the case in point here won’t get pitched straight into the warzone that is senior inter county action.
To be honest, I had no idea what club young Screeney was affiliated to. Until the most recent Sunday when the unmistakable green helmet lining out with Kilcormac/Killoughey against Naomh Eanna of Gorey and Wexford.
Which meant there was no way the dial was being moved on the TV for at least an hour. Watching supremely talented sports people do their thing is naturally uplifting for the soul, but, for reasons I haven’t quite figured out myself, watching the young artist of the ash plant work his magic reaches me on a level nobody in sport has for years.
One could only imagine how his mesmeric brilliance would manifest itself at club level. We surely didn’t have to wait too long to find out. Mind you, the Gorey men had plenty of class in their own right.
In the guise of Jack Cushe and Charlie McGuckin and Cathal Dunbar and Conor McDonald. So it should probably have been no surprise to see the sides go point for point in a cracking first half. At the end of which those representing the purple and gold led by 0-11 to 0-09 when referee Sean Cleere sounded the short whistle.
When the Offaly kingpins halved the deficit immediately after the restart it appeared the over and back nature of things was about to continue until that notion was obliterated in the space of two magic moments.
Most if not all of which were down to you know who. In the case of the green and gold’s first goal, that might seem a strange assertion given that it either went straight in from Conor Slevin’s puc out or was flicked home by K/K full forward James Gorman.
But consider the following – the only reason Gorman was left so splendidly isolated in beside Jack Cushe was that the Gorey defence was so preoccupied with his young colleague in the corner.
Having said that, they obviously weren’t vigilant enough because seconds later the slightly-built magician had them cast under another spell as – after combining with one of the other rapidly burgeoning stars on Shane Hand’s side – Charlie Mitchell – before sending an RPG low to the Naomh Eanna net from a position most mere mortals would have been delighted to get it over the bar.
In the aftermath of Sunday’s match, a photo was encountered of Screeney surrounded by people of all ages seeking autographs, photographs, selfies and just to be close to the lad. It was captioned “Hurling has found its answer to David Clifford”. Perhaps an understandable take, but, aside from the fact that any such discussion is utterly futile, far better be it to simply enjoy both extremely gifted young sportsmen in their individual brilliance.
If you haven’t seen Adam Screeney hurl yet, either in the flesh or on TV, do yourself a favour, it will do your soul good.
***
In terms of career profiles, two players could hardly be more polarised than Adam Screeney and Rory Beggan. One appearing to have his fiefdom of the sporting world at the end of his magician-like fingertips, the other surely on the headlands of a well cultivated, high yielding career.
Yet at opposite ends of the country for a few hours last Sunday, they graced the same dancefloor. Chasing the impossible dream. Which leaves yours truly with the usual mixed emotion wintry Sundays. Enjoying the action which in itself makes the winter seem shorter by the week, but, at the same time, longing for my nearest and dearest to be plying their trade at similar levels, and consumed with a mix of anger and upset at not being.
Though you couldn’t but be warmed by the sight of Beggan and the Hughes brothers – Darren and Kieran – and Shane Carey and Jack McCarron, who have all soldiered for the Farney County for so long with reward not befitting their individual and collective abilities – experience days of greatness with their own.
That said, it would be remiss not to mention Kilcoo, who, in terms of men’s football, must hold some sort of record having won the Down SFC for 11 out of the last 12 years. One of the great clubs those close to home should be at least aspiring to be a very small percentage like. Alas, I might have a heifer fit for Kepak quicker!
Leave a Reply