‘Basking in the evening sun, mingling with family, friends and supporters, I could have stayed forever’

Former Irish Examiner

Ulster champions 2013! I have to keep reminding myself of that during the past week so to counter an overpowering sense of disappointment I can’t shake following Saturday’s All-Ireland quarter-final defeat to Tyrone. Obviously it will pass with time, as it has for all previous defeats but thankfully this year, unlike most of the 13 seasons playing senior, I can look back with an overwhelming sense of satisfaction on what Monaghan achieved.

Writing in this paper over the past few years, I have always been conscious of the reader, many of whom may have watched their county win numerous provincial and All-Ireland titles in both codes.

How could a lowly journey man from Monaghan impress such a privileged audience? I have always believed that I represent the majority of inter-county players, the guys who slog year in, year out, often with little or no reward.

Perennially hampered by limited resources, in terms of both finance and personnel, progress one year can be knocked right back the next through no fault of anyone.

Factor that in along with competing in a province that has won five of the last 10 All-Ireland titles through Donegal, Tyrone and Armagh, not to mention the top level showings of Down, Derry and Fermanagh at different stages.

Now you will start to appreciate why this provincial title feels so special.

With a house move to middle Ireland in Trim, Meath, and newborn baby taking priority as the 2103 season kicked off, I wasn’t sure what level of commitment I would be able to make.

Throw in a two-hour drive from work to training each night and I knew I was battling against the realities of the thirtysomething inter-county footballer more than I ever thought I would.

Thankfully, the stars aligned so much that I only ended up missing two training sessions and featured in every one of Monaghan’s 17 outings.

To say I have been blessed with my family is an understatement. I have always told my wife Alison that I don’t choose to go and train and play football instead of spend time with her, it’s just something I have to do. Well this past few months for the first time it became a choice, and a choice I made with a heavy heart on more than one occasion as I left her and Cailean behind.

I am just so glad it was all worthwhile.

At he start of the year, most Monaghan supporters would have reckoned that I, along with half a dozen others, should have retired. We were finished. The feeling on the ground was that we had our chances and didn’t take them.

Fans felt it was time for us to graciously move on and leave it to the next generation. We were back in the bottom divisions, cannon fodder for the big guns.

Stopping the rot and building for the future was the big hope and ambition for our followers in 2013.

And to be honest, you couldn’t blame them all for thinking like that such was our rapid decline in fortunes.

Coming off the pitch in Armagh last year, after blowing what many felt was our last chance of competing in an Ulster final, I felt it was over.

Although I wouldn’t admit it, my missed effort in the final minutes of that match haunted me for months.

The look of frustration and despair on the faces of many of the older players afterwards had an air of finality about it all.

Thankfully for us, there was one last exciting chapter to be written.

As the pain of that defeat against Down subsided and the club year moved along, behind the scenes little green shoots of optimism gradually started to shoot up and got us all thinking again.

Lads who struggled with injuries and form in previous years started showing they still had plenty to offer. The younger players were gaining in maturity and confidence. A favourable provincial draw with a chance of making an Ulster final, even from the level we were at, further fuelled our kindling levels of motivation.

Coming from Division Three, through the ‘easier’ side of the championship draw might just be the best way to get to a provincial decider. We have always performed better coming from the long grass. So when the focus again switched to the county team, a renewed sense of optimism filled the camp.

We eventually convinced a doubting county board committee of our ambitions, and to their credit they went about their business professionally and got the man we wanted. Malachy O’Rourke.

Fermanagh at heart and Tyrone in situ, Malachy would have seen plenty of what Monaghan had to offer over the years, especially considering his involvement with Eoin Lennon’s club Latton over the past few seasons. Technically Malachy may have been an outsider, but he didn’t have too much catching up to do. With a calmness and assurance, he went about setting realistic goals for a group of players lacking confidence.

Straight-talking, passionate and involved, Malachy and his backroom team fitted in seamlessly, and things gradually fell into place and the foundations were lain for what be a memorable year.

It was now just a case of getting to work and seeing how things would play out. The rest is history! Promotion followed by some silverware in Croke Park is never a bad start to the season. Winning games, albeit at a lower level had become the norm and some badly-needed optimism started creeping into the psyche of Monaghan Gaels. All the talk was that our weaker side of the Ulster championship draw was a mere sideshow and the winners of Donegal and Tyrone would coast to and beyond the provincial decider. In fairness our unconvincing wins en route to the provincial showdown would have done little to shake that theory. Even by the time we reached the Ulster final nobody gave us a chance. I know countless people who in normal circumstances would have been there supporting Monaghan that didn’t bother buying a ticket for the Ulster final for fear of watching a humiliation. Hence we were outnumbered two to one in our own home ground. Paddy Power had us 6/1 outsiders. Odds like that are never overturned in GAA circles.

Well, almost never!

When the final whistle went on what was my 150th appearance for Monaghan, and we had finally won what we had set out to achieve all those years ago, a sense of elation and relief descended that I doubt will ever be equalled, even by an All-Ireland win.

It is still a bit of a blur, the only thing I clearly remember in the aftermath was grabbing Kieran Hughes as hard as I could and then getting battered with slaps and hugs by Eoin Lennon’s older, and considerably stronger brother. By the time I recovered from that assault, we were engulfed by delirious Monaghan fans and I hadn’t any choice about who to hug or embrace. Then came the overwhelming desire to find my family. Alison, my parents Hugo and Marie, brother Ben and sister Alice, all of whom had suffered every defeat as much if not more than I had, and there had been many.

As luck would have it they were some of the last people I eventually found, but when I did we hugged and cried in ways 31-year-old men aren’t accustomed to.

As the madness settled and team mates finally came together equally emotional embraces ensued between many of the panel. It was overwhelming stuff. The hours spent on the pitch after things settled and the main crowds dispersed were some of the most enjoyable in my life.

Basking in the evening sun, mingling with family, friends, teammates and supporters, I could have stayed there forever.

Last Saturday’s defeat, while as difficult as any I have experienced, will never take away from that day and what we achieved this year. Coming home to Trim to find homemade congratulation cards from neighbourhood kids, having lunch bought for you by some random guy from Mayo, all things that make you realise you achieved something many recognise and appreciate.

The volume of texts, tweets, emails and handshakes from both familiar and unfamiliar faces continues to humble me. Twelve months ago I was staring back at an underachieving career, now I’m looking forward to next year, and most likely my last, with a hunger an optimism I never thought possible again.

This year we started from a very low base and achieved greatness. Can 2014 be even better again? I’m looking forward to finding out.

A bitter pill to swallow

I could hardly write about this year’s events without referring to last weekend’s quarter-final against Tyrone and the controversy which ensued.

Although the manner of the defeat was deeply frustrating I don’t harbour any ill will towards Seán Cavanagh.

For the second championship encounter in a row between ourselves and Tyrone, Cormac Reilly got a major call wrong, but we live to pay the price.

Yet I doubt he feels as sick about the whole affair as we do.

I have written at length here before about cynical fouling, why it happens and how to cure it, so if you want my views delve into my archives for a comprehensive insight into the issue.

As is so frequent in modern day analysis and punditry, commentators and columnists have failed to see the key difference between what has crept into the game in recent times and what has always been there.

There is a clear distinction between body checking and the like, out around minefield, and a pre-meditated rugby tackle that prevents a scoring opportunity.

This narrative that ‘everyone is doing it’ is rubbish. As Joe Brolly pointed out, if everyone was doing there wouldn’t be a goal scored in this year’s championship. !

I have done a lot of questionable stuff on the field of play, I’ll admit to that, but I can honestly say in the 151 matches I have played for Monaghan I cannot remember carrying out a pre-meditated clinically executed tackle as Seán did on Conor McManus last weekend.

And if you asked most other players they would say the same.

Tyrone’s ’win at all cost’ mentality might very well get them their fourth All-Ireland medal, my only fear is that it may tarnish the good will and respect they earned from all of us on their way to winning their first three.