Paul Rouse: 'In hurling terms, Cork is Tipperary with a sense of humour'

The famous Mackey vs Ring photograph taken at the 1957 Munster final by Justin Nelson. Mick Mackey, an umpire for the game, allowed a Tipperary goal which the referee over-ruled. Christy Ring, leaving the pitch injured, has words with Mackey. taken from Mick Mackey — Hurling Legend in a Troubled County by Henry Martin, published by The Collins Press, 2011

Cork hurlers long made much of the importance of their grand tradition. What defined this tradition most of all was winning. Across long sweeps of the 20th century, Cork stood as the most successful county in hurling history. This was something that was used to present a certain cockiness, even arrogance. This became a story of inherited greatness.

And it made perfect sense: it allowed Cork to approach All-Ireland finals bathed in the warm perception of imminent victory. The creation of an atmosphere where Cork were understood to be perennial contenders — even when the bulk of the evidence suggested they were a long way short — was useful in fostering an idea whereby Cork could produce a team out of nowhere.

And it was rooted in reality. There were times when Cork won All-Irelands having started a season where they were scarcely considered real contenders.

But every story changes. And with this story, the problem is that the 16 years since Cork last won the last All-Ireland senior hurling title is the longest wait in the county’s hurling history.

No senior All-Ireland has been won since 2005 and, indeed, just two senior All-Ireland finals have been contested by Cork since that year.

In the meantime, Kilkenny have passed Cork in the All-Ireland winning roll of honour. While Cork have remained stuck on 30 titles, Kilkenny surged out into the distance with 36 titles to their name.

Indeed, the fact that Tipperary have moved to 28 titles leaves Cork in danger of slipping down to third in the roll of honour.

During these years, Cork’s attempt to walk convincingly with a swagger looked like more of an act than anything else.

It is interesting to consider how the burdens of this recent failure — historic in its scale — falls on the players who will play for Cork on Sunday. In keeping with the idea that team sports place players in the same dressing room who are wildly different in temperament and psychology, it will most likely be the case that there are those who see the past as an irrelevance, those who see it as an inspiration, and those who carry it as a small burden.

Despite more than a decade and a half of failure, this idea of ‘confidence’ rooted in tradition is something referenced by John Mullane this week. He said on the Throw-In podcast: “Cork are Cork. The mission is tradition. And while all us pundits, everyone in media circles, everyone outside of both camps will all be tipping ‘Limerick, Limerick, Limerick’, Cork going into a final, they won’t care less about Limerick and that’s being straight with you. I’ll tell you now, the way Cork will see it, albeit this is a great Limerick team, Cork would see Limerick as a Waterford, a Clare. There’s always this belief that we are the Rebels, we are Cork, they are Limerick.”

While other counties would possibly go up hoping to beat Limerick, within that circle, within that camp and within Cork county as a whole, they’ll be going up believing ‘we are Cork, we’re going to go up and we’re going to beat Limerick’. And that’s why I would give them every chance in the final.”

But is this really the case? Or does the idea of Cork’s cockiness only gather real meaning if it somehow also infects the Limerick psychology? How likely is it that a team which is attempting to win a third All-Ireland in four years will worry themselves in any sort of meaningful way about Cork’s tradition?

William Murphy, as associate professor at Dublin City University was for many years a hurler and footballer in Limerick. He offers a quick reminder that Limerick has its own hurling lore and a historical hinterland of success. And in terms of a rivalry with Cork, this can be reduced to comparisons between Mick Mackey and Christy Ring.

Asked to choose between Ring and Mackey, Prof Murphy offers no equivocation: “Mackey every day. Both were great hurlers, Ring may even have been better, but Mackey had real personality. He smiled, regularly, and he was aware that there was more to life than hurling. You’d have a second pint with Mackey.”

He had a very clear perspective on the Limerick view of Cork’s ‘confidence’: “Generally, we smile because the sense that Cork is the centre of the universe seems both so Cork and so obviously misguided. We roll our eyes, of course, but mostly we smile because usually, Cork’s brand of confidence is cheerful and breezy. In hurling terms, Cork is Tipperary with a sense of humour.”

In comparing the nature of Limerick’s relationship with Cork with the relationship the county holds with other Munster counties, Prof Murphy notes the impossibility of generalisation. The rivalry with Cork sits beside rivalries with the other neighbouring hurling counties of Clare and Tipperary — it is something that is conditioned largely by geography: “There is no one Limerick relationship to the other Munster counties. A Limerick person in Broadford no doubt regards Cork in the same way that his fellow county man or woman from Pallasgreen regards Tipperary or from Castleconnell regards Clare. We don’t like losing to any of them. And we especially hate losing to them when they are in a period of ascendancy. I think our neighbours are beginning to feel that way about us right now.”

And this is the key point: every sporting rivalry is conditioned by who holds the whip hand.

As Prof Murphy says, Limerick’s recent successes have reshaped the balance of power: “Limerick may be viewed by Cork people with a sort of benign superiority but this might just turn more to envy if we can manage one more win.”

He gives short shrift to the idea that Cork’s sense of their own tradition or pedigree will have any influence on Sunday’s match: “It’s hard to see how it can have much influence, because it doesn’t matter to Limerick anymore. John Fenton does not live in Dan Morrissey’s subconscious ready to reveal himself with 10 minutes to go if the game is in the melting pot. For Cork supporters, it probably adds to a sense of optimism. For the Cork team, it may help to mitigate the doubt that must come from their knowledge they had Limerick by the throat for 10 minutes of the second half in Thurles in the Munster semi-final and failed to take the opportunity.”

What is obvious in this is the current absence of bitterness in the rivalry. This is manifest most obviously when Prof Murphy is asked about his instinctual reaction to the red jersey: “It looks just grand, till some eejit calls it ‘the blood and bandage’.”

- Paul Rouse is Professor of History at UCD.