How does one become a social media influencer? What’s the definition of their ‘role’. The occupant of this seat hasn’t a clue as to the answer to either of those curiosities. But it would appear Niamh De Bruin-Reid, wife of Kilkenny star TJ, is one of the prominent ones presently.
Presumably, an enormous social media following is a good metric of a person’s status in that whole arena. On that score, Mrs Reid definitely ticks the box.
So, presumably, her large social media following will have seen the post showing the couple and their young daughter on the Croke Park pitch after The Cats narrow defeat by Clare.
TJ is mid 30s now. I’ve seen enough similar photos over the years to know that they can often represent a long goodbye to the great field if they are players with big mileage up.
You can be sure Dublin football supporters are fearing similar developments regarding the likes of Stephen Cluxton and Mick Fitzsimons and James McCarthy and possibly even Ciaran Kilkenny and Paul Mannion.
It’s highly likely I wasn’t the only one having similar thoughts about TJ on Saturday evening. There may well be other members of the Cat pack engaged in similar pondering. However, hope will be maintained that the brilliant Ballyhale man will go into the trenches one more time at least.

For the sake of the entire game of hurling, not just Kilkenny themselves. His point from a line ball on the Cusack Stand side of the field was worth whatever admission fee those fortunate enough to be in position to see it paid.
Mind, you there were plenty of other highlights to keep them enthralled. From the mesmeric brilliance of goalkeepers Eibhear Quilligan and Eoin Murphy, to the fascinating, often fierce duel between Adam Hogan and Eoin Cody.
Not to mention Cian Kenny and Billy Ryan coming of age for Kilkenny, Quilligan, Hogan and David Reidy doing likewise for Clare. Tony Kelly playing himself into prominence, Mark Rodgers doing likewise winning dirty ball and making the hard yards when the fat was in the fire.
It is the lot of a sports writer that at certain times of the year some otherwise often obscure disciplines get their scheduled slots to shine. In late June or early July, that means tennis and Wimbledon. But I’ll tell you one thing, John McEnroe or Pete Sampras or any of the Holy Trinity – Djokovic, Federer and Nadal – couldn’t hit a forehand smash any better than did Eoin Cody when, in eventually navigating a route past Quilligan as his ace left the Cats with a 1-10 to 0-08 lead as their ball of string after the first half frolics.
Now, it wouldn’t take scientific research to decipher that the naturally animated Brian Lohan most likely cut loose as the Jaffa Cakes were being distributed. But whatever initial spark may have accrued from same seemed to evaporate when Ryan underpinned his best outing in the stripes to date pouncing on Quilligan’s one rash decision for the day. Endorsing himself as a Kilkenny forward as all the great ones do by rattling the net.
When Kilkenny go for the jugular and bolster their positioning with goals it usually means flatlining for their opponents, but Lohan’s lads are – belatedly some might harshly say – cut from different cloth. As their backsides dangled fatally close to the yellow machine’s feed auger, Peter Duggan and Shane O’Donnell went Yin to the other’s Yang.

The asset offered by Duggan’s aerial prowess may be obvious, but nobody should ever underestimate the diminutive O’Donnell’s ability henceforth. He has a spring on him to rival Jalen Brown or Stephen Curry or LeBron James in the NBA. Though equally as importantly, he gets the landing gear out as quick as Tom Daley off a diving board and gets possession away.
Between that duet, David McInerney, Kelly and the outstanding Ryan Taylor – returning after exactly a year out – they either posted or manufactured for Aidan McCarthy the opportunities which earned Brian Lohan a shot at emulating the man he has selective amnesia regarding, 11 years thereafter.
***
I made no apologies for saying I held out great hopes for the Jarlath Burns Presidency of the GAA and that is still the case. It’s also worth saying that the remedial works that are required mostly concern football. But, increasingly, competition structure and logistics are emerging as wounds that need tending to as well. Maybe not extensive surgery, but certainly a bit of strapping at least. Now read on.
The former of the above twosome of topics is hardly new to the agenda, but just because it’s been lingering a while doesn’t mean it doesn’t have to be sorted. Regrettably – because this scribe would watch ten matches a day if they were fixed – it probably is a reality that there are going to be less inter county football games going forward. For there hasn’t been as much clamber for anything since the late Tommie Gorman had Bertie on standby to try and get Roy back to Saipan as is the case with those calling for the culling of the Preliminary Quarter Finals in the football championship.
Look, in essence, proponents of that narrative are on the money. Playing 24 games to lose four teams is ridiculous. But too much of what once made the GAA great has been trifled with and the association is all the poorer for that. Some of which revolves around fixtures, more is down to logistics.
In true Irish fashion, let’s take them in reverse order. One of the great occasions on the GAA calendar used to be the staging of the All Ireland SHC Finals as a double header. Possibly even with one of the penultimate hurdles in the MHC making it a triple bill. What was wrong with that system? An exemplar of a case for ‘If its not broken, leave it alone’. I mean, explain to me how – with both matches earmarked as likely classics – one senior semi final can fill Croke Park (and most likely could have done several times over) and the other couldn’t even muster half capacity. Even though it promised to be – and was – every bit as close and exciting as what transpired the following day.
Though, with no offence intended to Kilkenny or Clare, the hurling produced by Cork and Limerick was on a different stratosphere to most of what the one seeing eye has perused in the last three and a bit decades.
Only Clare’s victory of 11 years ago and that of Offaly nine years further back would get anywhere near being comparable. As was said to somebody today, there was a five or ten minute spell in and around when Brian Hayes scored them Cork goal when the action was so crazily frantic one could have been (and was) exhausted simply sitting watching it.
When Hayes was wrongly denied a second goal due to a phantom ‘throw’ that never was and then, seconds later, Patrick Collins produced a save thwarting Aaron Gillane to rival anything produced by Quilligan or Eoin Murphy or Gordon Banks or Jorge Campos or anybody else you care to mention, not only was it a microcosm of the entire match but, even more so, a loud pointer that it was about to be Cork’s day.
That said, you don’t manifest yourselves as the wonderful champions Limerick have been without being made of stern stuff, including a depth of quality at their disposal which, more often than not, will haul them out of any predicament. Thus, the drafted in cavalry – Shane O’Brien, Adam English and Aidan O’Connor all making their mark.
In fact, in my humble opinion, English hit a score from out under the Hogan Stand that was on a par with the one essayed by Joe Canning to send the Mac Carthy Cup into the west in 2017.
Bare in mind that all that separated the sides was the ability of a certain Mr Collins to withstand volleys of shots being rifled at him better than a lad of the same name did 102 years beforehand!
Gut feeling is that this Limerick group are far from finished, but what a spectacle us neutral observers have to look forward to savouring in just over two weeks. The aristocrats against those who have made their greatest contributions to GAA folklore have been in upsetting the apple cart.
The great pity is one of them will eventually end up losing. In the interim, sit back and enjoy the journey there!


