Colin Sheridan: This was the evening that Tyrone became the Keyser Söze of Championship 2021

Tyrone players, Ben McDonnell, left, and Darragh Canavan celebrate, as Mayo players, Jordan Flynn, left, and Enda Hession fall to the ground after the GAA Football All-Ireland Senior Championship Final match between Mayo and Tyrone at Croke Park in Dublin. Photo by Daire Brennan/Sportsfile

“The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist” 

— Charles Baudelaire 

Forget all talk of famines and curses, it’s all nonsense anyway. Saturday night was all about one team; Tyrone.

Worthy All-Ireland champions with a backstory few would believe if written. Three weeks ago, they were out of the championship. Today, they are kings of the country again. Thirteen years on from their last. One year on from breaking up with their demagogue Mickey Harte, nobody outside Tyrone saw this coming, and even the squad must be pinching themselves.

If we all were unsure as to who they were before this weekend, we are certain now.

Mayo have only themselves to blame. Not because they painted bales of hay green and red or flew flags from cranes and bridges, but because their gameplan, which centres around the creation of chaos, had no answer to Tyrone’s battle rhythm which hinges on control. Mayo were out-thought and out-fought. They will have regrets aplenty.

Ryan O’Donoghue’s penalty miss on 40 minutes was a stand-out moment, but, in truth, even had he scored you’d wager Tyrone would’ve figured them out. That’s what Tyrone do. They figure you out. Like a master shrink sitting opposite you, they allow you to talk and talk and talk some more, before telling you “time’s up” and taking your hundred bucks as they hand you your coat. Mayo will need a shrink after this one, one without a clock.

The general idea is that All-Irelands should bring out the best in players, and so it was with Darren McCurry. His 1-4 was instrumental in keeping Tyrone ticking, but his all-round play in creating and linking play was a joy to watch. Pádraig O’Hora had the thankless task of trying to marshall him. Heroic against Dublin, it was a frustrating evening for the Ballina man. It’s too easy to point the finger, however, as he was afforded little protection, although James Horan could have changed things by introducing Brendan Harrsion or Colm Boyle, both of whom went unused.

Tyrone were more cute in everything they did, on the pitch and off it. McCurry was the epitome of that.

The true architect of their glory though was goalkeeper Niall Morgan. The cult of the ’keeper is one that has driven many think pieces this past decade. On Saturday night, Morgan gave one of the great final performances.

From his bravery in playing libero high up the pitch to his fist passing — off either hand — into space, Morgan was the springboard for countless Tyrone attacks. His kick outs were varied and accurate. His presence assured. The real pièce de résistance, however, was his foot passing from hand. Time and time again he diffused messy situations with perfectly executed kicks that slid gloriously off the outside of his right boot. Each one beat the Mayo press, taking players out of the game, while inevitably landing in front of one of his defenders who could collect without breaking stride. What a weapon to have in your arsenal. The entire game he was unflappable. His performance from beginning to end was a masterclass and, quite frankly, should be taught in schools.

To the bench, then. The bench! It was always a worry for Mayo that their bench overperformed against Dublin, and so it proved on Saturday night. The dichotomy in depth between both sides made you worry that Mayo better not be chasing the game.

To that end, they found themselves stymied. Jordan Flynn was game but offered little by way of creativity when that is what was needed. Tyrone, by contrast, had Cathal McShane and Darragh Canavan sitting watching, waiting like coiled springs. McShane’s first touch was a brilliantly flicked goal. It was the moment you felt Mayo were toast.

The heroism of Lee Keegan in refusing to believe that narrative was a privilege to watch. Stephen Coen, too played above himself amidst the claustrophobia. Too often, however, Mayo relied on individual brilliance to keep them alive, and not structure.

This has been a defining characteristic of Mayo teams, especially under James Horan. Time and time again, it’s mayhem and madness that wins them games, and not method. It’s one of the reasons they endear themselves to so many, it’s also what would drive you completely bonkers.

As with the semi-final against Dublin, they found themselves five down with five to play, but there was never any palpable sense that a comeback was on. Without Cillian O’Connor and with Aidan O’Shea cutting a strangely peripheral figure, they lacked the quality to trouble Tyrone’s tempo. Even when it came to the great conductor Niall Morgan, they barely laid a glove on him. The high-stool merchants from all over will say this was a bottle job, but that just simply is not so; Mayo were not good enough.

The magnitude of Tyrone’s achievement should be hailed for the remarkable story it is.

Beating Donegal, Monaghan, Kerry and Mayo in a knock-out championship tells its own story. Doing so in the context of a Covid-19 outbreak that threatened their very existence in the competition is something we will never fully appreciate. Up to the point of that sorry saga, they were barely discussed as contenders, yet it was they and only they who had beaten anyone of any note en route to Croke Park. They were Keyser Söze from The Usual Suspects feared and elusive. They were the Trojan Horse.

Pick your allegory, but remember how foolish we all were to dismiss them. They have long been ambivalent to everyone else’s perception of them, but their performance on Saturday will have won over many hearts and minds.

To a man, they oozed class. On the grandest stage, they showed up and danced their dance to perfection. There was no greater example of this than McCurry’s goal, which was only possible because of the vision of Conor McKenna to give a no-look handpass while bearing down on the Mayo goal at top speed. In a game of moments, it was as big as any, and one worthy of the worthiest of champions.