Larry Ryan: We take it for granted that Dublin will always be ready
TINSEL ALL THE WAY: Bernard Brogan with his twins Keadán and Donagh after Dublin’s victory over Kerry in last year’s All-Ireland SFC final replay at Croke Park. Brogan retired from inter-county football a month later.
Traditionally, at this juncture, we invest a lot of time and energy into analysing the Mayo state of mind.
To establish what shape they are in, we calibrate the sizes of their local newspaper supplements, we parse their All-Ireland songs, we translate the teachings of David Brady, and we see what hashtags they have trending.
We need to know the scale of their defiance and the depth of their yearning, interrogate the potency of ‘the curse’, and adjudicate whether or not they have the unbelievable belief.
When we have that much straightened out — the important stuff — we can spare some thought for the nitty-gritty of how they are going to do it.
It sounded pretty persuasive this week, the case Cork’s Ciarán Sheehan made on the Gaelic Football Podcast, that Mayo can cause Dublin bother by corralling them up the sidelines and turning them over.
It always sounds persuasive towards the end of the week, any plan that is fuelled by romance and longing and a vague sense of destiny.
And then you reread Bernard Brogan’s book and remember that Dublin are ‘wargaming’ whatever gambit Mayo can throw at them, including being corralled up the sideline.
“We’ve gone through what we might do if they form not just a wall inside their 45m line but another around the 65 to try to prevent the outball and trap us along the flanks to stop us recycling and reversing the ball.
“We forensically dissect and war-game their kickouts...
“I’ll be in a pod headed by Deano and send him on a breakdown of Chris Barrett and his A game — what he likes to do — and his B game — how you can limit and attack him.”
Brogan’s book makes it clear that Dublin have been forever watchful for what Mayo will bring in these series of big matches between the counties.
“When it comes down to it, the Mayo boys have more dogs of war (than Donegal). They are the ultimate test of your honesty.
“A big word Jim (Gavin) has used is agile. We’ve to be agile for whatever they throw at us, tactically, verbally, mentally.”
We typically spend little time admiring Dublin’s agility during weeks like this, or interpreting Dublin’s state of mind.
In RTÉ’s lovely documentary Man and Ball, we heard what Christy Ring once said in the Rebels’ dressing room. “Kilkenny have never beaten Cork when we’re ready, and we’re ready today.”
We take it for granted now that Dublin will always be ready. And spare little wonder for their readiness.
Part of it is our preoccupation with the underdog. David has always sold more popcorn than Goliath. But while every underdog might have his day, Goliath must do it every day. But we’re not that interested in seeing how that sausage is made.
Even Brogan’s book got most attention for the ‘controvassy’ around when he was axed, rather than Dublin's nitty-gritty — the repetition and forensics in their pods and rehearsals and war games at Innisfails or DCU.
And in fairness, there are other parts of The Hill which explain why we manage to keep a lid on our admiration for the Dubs and their perpetual readiness.
“Aer Lingus came on board… Skins compression gear, ROS Nutrition.
“Mitsubishi Motors are now our commercial car sponsors. Intersport Elverys are our retail partners.
“As of now Kinetica are our nutrition providers, O’Neill’s lay on the kit, Ballygowan and Energise Sport are our official hydration partners, the Gibson Hotel is where we begin our match-day prep, and then you have one of the most fundamental and costly aspects of inter-county preparation – food, provided by the Gourmet Food Parlour.”
Disgruntlement at Dublin’s natural and unnatural advantages has, by and large, suppressed admiration for their agility and honesty.
That and our old friend 'structures' and the waste of everyone's time that is the Leinster Championship.
And there is a general weariness with the corporate rugby-talk that perpetually spills out of the Dublin camp, for which Mayo must take some responsibility too.
It was after the drawn 2015 All-Ireland semi-final with Mayo that the Dublin players were first introduced to high-performance advisor Gary Keegan, in Powerscourt, Brogan says.
“That’s where we first heard of The Process, a concept which helped keep us on track when things got shaky in that replay.”
We are so tired of Dublin’s Process, we no longer spend much time dwelling on what goes into it.
Yet there is something fascinating about the great sporting dynasties — even more than the one-off giant killings — because we know that, one day, they will end. Even Dublin’s, with all their advantages.
We know that one day every dynasty in history has been unable to maintain the physical supremacy that still must be built in the gym.
Every great era has eventually come up against the tactic they didn’t wargame well enough. Every Goliath gets bitten by a dog of war.
Maybe something imperceptible has changed in the delicate recipe that mixes selfless teamwork with thrilling individualism. Maybe the manager changed. Or perhaps the champions can no longer match the scale of the underdogs’ defiance and the depth of their yearning. Or honesty.
Look at Manchester City and all their natural and unnatural advantages. The team of 100 points and countless goals was set to dominate forever.
Now it all appears so hard for them. A team spooked by the counter-attack, maybe shellshocked by their own wargames.
“Farm Your Culture,” Keegan said to them that day, in Powerscourt. “Don’t neglect it. You’ve to care for it, water it; sometimes when there’s been challenges and change, you might need to re-sow it. But always nurture it.”
It’s more of the stuff we are tired of hearing. Yet still holds true, even if you have the best land.
Part of Dublin’s greatness is the year-on-year rejuvenation that means the weakest animals on the farm must be unsentimentally culled, without upsetting the herd. Brogan knows that well too.
