Anthony Daly: In the strangest of times, county titles have never been more treasured

Joanne Cantwell asked me at one stage during commentary if I was whispering. I was just so conscious of the subs and the management teams below me hearing what I might be saying about them

A STRANGE KIND OF GLORY: Sixmilebridge’s Ronan Keane and Ciarán Hassett celebrate after Sunday’s victory over O’Callaghans Mills in the Clare SHC final at Cusack Park. ‘Everything about the day was surreal,’ writes Anthony Daly. Picture: INPHO/James Crombie

Before I left home for Cusack Park on Sunday afternoon, my daughter Una was wondering if I was leaving it a little late to get on the road, especially for a county final. Una was forgetting herself, and the new reality for attending matches. I was under zero pressure for time.

“Sure, there will be no problem with traffic,” I said. “There will be hardly anyone at the match.”

County final day in Ennis was a whole different experience from what I was always used to. I’d no problem parking. I’d normally stroll up through the town afterwards to sample the atmosphere, maybe even sip a beer and dissect the match with whoever wanted to chat about the game.

On Sunday, Ennis was deserted. All that was missing was the tumbleweed.

Eerie is just another one of those sensations intertwined with the new reality. I was working with RTÉ and Joanne Cantwell asked me at one stage during commentary if I was whispering. Being honest, I probably was; I was just so conscious of the subs and the management teams below me hearing what I might be saying about them.

The experience rekindled some old memories, especially when Matthew McMahon, who used to commentate on all the old Clare matches for Clare FM, was commentating on a match for Scariff Bay Radio nearly 30 years ago.

When we played Cork in a league relegation match in Thurles in 1993, there was such a sparse crowd at the match, and the atmosphere was so muted because Cork were hammering us, that I could hear Matthew above in the old cockpit in the old Stand in Thurles.

That image stayed with me because I could hear Matthew that afternoon trying to convince the listeners that there was still life in a corpse that Cork had long slain.

Normally, when you’re co-commentating at inter-county matches, even county finals, you’d be fighting to make yourself heard above the din and racket from the crowd. The flipside is that you can now hear everything that’s been said on the pitch and on the sideline.

It’s an ideal opportunity now for a spy in either camp to radio down to your manager or coach and let him know what the other crowd are up to.

Everything about the day was surreal. I got out of the car, put on my facemask and made my way in through the Cloister entrance, which is the gateway at the back of the Town goal. Then you’ve a steward showing you exactly where you’re supposed to go. I know most of the stewards in Ennis. You’d normally be hopping off each other and having the craic but the engagement is completely different from what it usually is.

Because I had a press pass, I had to go in at a certain time. The O’Callaghan’s Mills supporters were being directed towards that side of the ground too and they had to wait until their allotted time came to gain entry. It was surreal stuff for a county final.

When I was involved in my first county senior final in 1987, I was only a sub, but the whole day was still magic; the colour, pageantry, atmosphere, that county final feel is still burned into my memory bank. I can still remember the mad excitement of running out onto the field against Sixmilebridge for the 1989 final. You can just imagine how excited and pumped up all those Mills fellas were before the game on Sunday but it’s almost like those feelings have been anaesthetized, and that the opportunity to express and celebrate has been numbed.

The ‘process’ and adhering to the ‘process’ is the main buzzword everywhere now for teams but protocols and properly adhering to those protocols has completely reshaped how teams even engage in that process.

I was gawking out over the commentary box beforehand to try and see how, or where, the Mills would enter the pitch until I finally saw Pat Donnellan running up the sideline. It was so low-key and unspectacular — it was as if the Mills were smuggled into the place.

Pat was a brilliant captain for us in Clare in 2013. Lifting the Liam MacCarthy Cup was everything he’d always dreamed of. I’m sure he has dreamed of winning county titles with the Mills too but there is probably a part of Pat — and all the Mills’ players and supporters — that would equally have craved to soak up that traditional county final experience.

The Bridge had a totally different mindset because for them it was business as usual. The outcome almost went exactly to script; the Bridge don’t score or concede goals, they just get the job done. It must surely be a record for a team to win a senior county hurling title and not score a single goal along the way. That doesn’t matter a jot to them though they have united under Tim Crowe, Davy and Paddy Meehan has had a lot of the glue to make that happen.

They haven’t had a good record in Munster in recent years but, given how well they have refined their system, Sixmilebridge would have been hard to beat in Munster this year, especially when they’re not conceding goals.

Unfortunately, that’s just one more regret in the current climate, that we haven’t got the provincial or All-Ireland club championships to look forward to.

On paper, the Munster club championship this year could have been epic; the Bridge, Na Piarsaigh, Ballygunner, Kiladangan and either Glen Rovers or Blackrock.

Cuala and Ballyhale never got to meet last year but they would have been on a serious collision course in Leinster this year.

Whichever teams wins next week’s Galway county final — St Thomas’ or Turloughmore — would have fancied a right cut at the All-Ireland too.

At this stage, we’re all just grateful to have got what we did. In fairness to the Clare County Board, they got the championships wrapped up at the time they said they would, even though things looked dicey back in August when Cratloe’s train was derailed for a couple of weeks after an outbreak of Covid-19.

Now that the county championships are winding down everywhere, the idea of a split season has really taken hold.

It definitely looks to be the way forward, especially when the April club month is such a farce. I saw that myself firsthand when managing in the Dublin club championship for the last couple of seasons; it makes no sense to play two games in April and then effectively shut up shop (as is the case in Dublin anyway) until September.

The split season is a no-brainer but I still feel there are a lot of creases to be ironed out before it is rolled out.

Do clubs want to have zero contact with their county players for six months or more? That’s just one of a multitude of questions that need to be debated before any decisions are made on a split season.

Despite the new reality though, one fact hasn’t changed in the current environment; a county title — irrespective of the lack of crowds and atmosphere and colour and build-up — is still more sought after than ever.

If anything, especially when representing your own tribe has never been more precious, and particularly when the majority of that tribe can’t witness the battle, county titles have never been more treasured.