The occasion of the 1996 Meath JFC Final between the two halves of the same parish – Drumconrath and Meath Hill – was the biggest crowd the one seeing eye here has ever witnessed at a club game in the county.
Such was the sea of red and white and blue and white that it could just as easily have been Cavan against Derry in an Ulster Final. The noise levels were also commensurate to those in Clones on the showpiece day of the season at the venue.
Now, I honestly can’t remember how long the Drums remained at their promoted level, but what i known is that it took their neighbours until well inside the last decade to get back to the county final stage.
Granted, when they did, they not only conquered that peak but went on and defeated Navan O’Mahonys two years ago to take their place at Meath football’s top table.
But then those who were then under the baton of Shane McCoy – currently in charge of Wolfe Tones – were desperately unlucky to be sent straight back to Intermediate.
Though I haven’t seen betting on the race for the Mattie McDonnell Cup, if such data can be obtained, there would be absolutely no difficulty in speculating a few quid on the Monaghan border outfit to rebound straight away again.
If for no other reason that rugged rural teams often set an exam supposedly more nuanced squads from elsewhere simply can’t handle.
Witness examples such as the immediately aforementioned when the men from the county town were usurped by those from one of the smallest parishes therein. Or, outside of Meath, how those from the hills of Kilcoo have not only have a stranglehold on domestic silverware for at least a couple of handfuls of years but also reigned in Ulster and claimed All Ireland glory. Toppling the mighty Kilmacud Crokes along the way.
Switch attention back to Meath and – though it gives me absolutely no pleasure – the most obvious comparable case is that of Dunboyne’s abysmal capitulation against defending champions Summerhill. Long ago, the view was formed here that there is such a thing as scoring a goal too early in a game.
Thus it proved to be on this occasion as, after Cian O’Dwyer proved to be the most unlikely of goal scorers for the underdogs, all it succeeded in doing was poking the bear in the opposite corner.
Which manifested as, despite a quick flurry of points from Donal Lenihan, Sean Delaney and Charlie Gallagher, Dave Clare’s side upping the ante and registering the next 1-8 without riposte.
Conor Frayne hitting the net and his brother Eoghan, brother-in-law Sean Muddiman (four two point frees), Barry Dardis and the legendary Davy Larkin accounting for the points.
All of which meant that, despite another fine score from Lenihan and a superb double from John Harkin, David Gallagher’s charges headed for the red brick dressing rooms 1-06 to 1-15 in arears.
Sadly, however, that was only a fraction of their worries as, shortly before the break, exciting attacker Sean Delaney crumpled with a ghastly looking knee injury and only minutes after the resumption, wing back Cian Smith similarly had to be assisted off the field.
Oddly, it was in the midst of all that the black and ambers actually enjoyed their best spell as Harkin, Gallagher, Lenihan, Luke Carolan, Mick Murphy (2PT) and the introduced Eoghan McDonald gave a flicker of hope that a salvation job might be afoot.
For such to be the case, though, you need a few breaks to go your way. That certainly wasn’t the case here as, after giving the county kingpins a barrow full of soft frees, David Coldrick then waved away a blatant shout for a penalty before giving more frees that were of the melted icecream variety at the other end of the field.
However, that is NOT to say either fact were the reason Dunboyne lost. No, that had more to do with, yes, a modicum of bad luck, but, more so, what in racing parlance might be termed green-ness.
Call it that, or lack of nous, or whatever you like, the fact is that the prototype, well drilled county champions were, painful though it is to admit, at a different level.
Not that there’s the slightest thing wrong with that, but nor does it make last Sunday any less chastening or deflating of an experience. Most especially with one of our own in the opposition dugout.
Yes, I’m going to trot out my oft used mantra about the results meaning so much more than the nuts and bolts of what goes on between the lines. But, in this case, there’s also the sense of being authors of our own downfall. For reasons I’m not going to go into.
Mind you, rousing rural rebellions were the order of the weekend. As redoubtable Skryne sidestepped Na Fianna, Wolfe Tones outgunned St Colmcille’s and, most significantly of all, Ballinabrackey’s usurpation of Seneschalstown after another brilliant battle.
Before you say it, no, the Yellow Furze crew could hardly be described as urban, but, there are few if any more outlying units in the Royal County than The Bracks.
So much so that their pitch is in another place (Castlejordan) which is just about in Meath. So it probably stands to reason that, for the Offaly border brigade, resources would be considerably thinner on the ground than for many entities.
You can imagine, then, the hammer blow it was to learn that their talisman and spiritual leader Sean Coffey was the latest (before our two) to fall victim to the county’s ACL curse in the haunted hole that Pitch 6 in Dunganny is rapidly becoming.
In the circumstances, few would have argued if maintainence of senior status was the ceiling of ambitions for Ciaran Giblin and his troops for the remainder of the campaign. Especially after the tanking they took from Wolfe Tones in Round 1 after Seanie departed.
Now add to that them being minus their brilliant custodian – and considerable source of scores – Dean Pluck and morale cannot have been great heading into the crunch contest at Trim.
Unless, that is, they used all the setbacks as diesel. The red kind of course. And that is exactly how it panned out. The collective yield being much greater than the sum of the individual parts.
Beginning with the very experienced Seamus Curry deputising in goal. Though in fairness, he wouldn’t have had to go too far for pointers! A word also for the warpainted Jason Lynch and the dogged Nicky Judge – who never got a fair crack of the whip from several Meath managers – in the full back line.
Perhaps, however, greatest plaudits are due to Adam O’Brien. Not only because he was in theory attempting the impossible, trying to fill the void caused by the absence of their county star but maybe even more so because it was in fact his two goal salvo which ended up deciding the last game of the weekend.
Not that we can conclude on said point. It would be absolutely remiss not to acknowledge the gargantuan contributions of the other Coffey supply with the Brack – Richie and Mark – as well as those of midfielder Simon Finn, half forwards Danny Quinn and Niall Smullen and the oldest swingers in town inside, Damian Carroll and the introduced Chris ‘Juicy’ O’Connor.
Indeed, there was something of a fitting inevitability about the two old warhorses putting the finishing touches to what will be termed a surprise result. But whether it really should be is another matter entirely.
What it all means is that the green and gold go into a straight shootout against the blue and navy (that’s sort of apt) of St Colmcille’s to see who goes through with the Tones, while Seneschalstown appear doomed to be in the battle to avoid the trap door which – akin to Dunboyne – is not where a team with the talent at their disposal should be aiming.
Against that, maybe the fact that they are is an indication club fare in the county has become more competitive. I suppose it depends whether you’re glass half full or half empty.
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