Eimear Ryan: Did Loughmore-Castleiney’s dual status actually benefit them?

Does winning a football title the previous weekend give you the boost to go on and do the double?

Wed, 01 Dec, 2021 - 19:52

Last Sunday afternoon, I sat down on the couch with an abundance of tech. On the telly, the Tipp county hurling final live on TG4; on the laptop, the Cork county football final on the Irish Examiner livestream; and the phone at hand as well, obviously, to keep an eye on the tweets.

Judging by a couple of images shared on social media, I wasn’t the only one working off multiple screens. With the packed club championship schedule these days, it’s a standard setup for journalists and fans alike. Dual screens for dual stars.

Beyond their entertainment value, I had personal stakes in both games. For the Loughmore-Castleiney v Thurles game, it was about keeping an eye on Tipp stars — Mahers and McGraths — with a view to next year’s inter-county season. With the Barrs v Clonakilty, it was about cheering on the players I’ve gotten to know through playing camogie with the Barrs for the last five years.

It’s been really interesting to become part of a club like the Barrs, where hurling and football are pursued with equal passion. I’m an interloper twice-removed: a blow-in to the area, and without much of a background in football. Growing up in Moneygall, there weren’t too many dual stars around the place. It has loosened up since, but back in the 90s, north and south Tipp were divided firmly into hurling and football camps. TN reg = hurling. TS reg = football. (That hurling royalty Nicky English hailed from football territory was always a source of minor confusion to me.)

My homeplace is only up the M8, and a half-hour’s drive from Loughmore, but culturally it’s a world away. Football was grand for a bit of craic, or keeping fit over the winter, but hurling was the main show in town. I remember being surprised to learn that Teddy McCarthy and JBM also played football, that there were players out there who held both sports in equal esteem.

Then in the late 90s, my cousin Shane Ryan became a dual star at minor level for Dublin, and for a time at senior level, before realising that he had to focus on one sport. He played football in the sky-blue jersey for 10 years, a midfield stalwart alongside Ciarán Whelan, in the process winning six Leinster titles and an All Star. With his club Naomh Mearnóg, however, hurling remained his first love. After he retired from Dublin football, he returned for a couple of seasons to the Dublin hurling panel under Anthony Daly, winning a league title and putting a cap on a stellar career. It’s all in the balance.

Female dual stars are more common, but with the commitment and demands of the modern game, I’m in awe of the way the likes of Méabh Cahalane, Orla O’Dwyer, Libby Coppinger, and Hannah Looney manage to juggle it all. And I’d thought that the male dual star was a thing of the past, but it turns out he’s alive and well at club level.

Is there a sense in which the Loughmore players’ dual status actually benefitted them? With 14 players playing on both their county-winning football and hurling teams, and having played 17 weeks in a row between both codes, it’s a miracle they avoided injury to the extent they have. But is there a sense of momentum and discipline that gathers when you’re playing week in, week out? And does winning a football title the previous weekend give you the boost to go on and do the double?

Loughmore have managed their twin pursuits admirably. Perhaps having the same manager for both sports in Frankie McGrath helped considerably, as did the large overlap in players between the two teams. So often, dual players are put on the spot, forced to choose, or torn between two masters; if everyone is in the same boat, those issues are eliminated. The Barrs’ overlap is smaller, but at least half a dozen of their players would have been involved with hurling up until mid-October.

When balancing so many variables, it always comes down to small margins. And so it was at the weekend. After a slightly underwhelming, nervy first half, with no less than 12 Loughmore wides, the game came alive in the second half with four goals, two apiece — as notable for their spectacular assists as their finishes. Each time Loughmore pulled away, Thurles showed incredible composure to claw the game back. But as soon as John McGrath stood over the injury-time free, you knew he wouldn’t miss.

There was a sense of exorcism to these victories, of refusing to repeat last year’s narratives. For the Barrs, the strange echo came in the county semi-final against Castlehaven, who knocked them out via penalty shoot-out at the same stage in 2020. This year, the game seemed to be out of the Barrs’ reach when three Steven Sherlock points forced the game to penalties. Another shoot-out, but with the opposite outcome this time, and the Barrs were back in the final. As for Loughmore, what must it have been like to have the spectre of 2020 breathing down their necks in the dying moments of this year’s deciders?

I was delighted with the Barrs’ composed, hardworking win but my Instagram feed gave insight into the flipside of the experience. Author Louise O’Neill, daughter of Clon boss Haulie O’Neill, posted a tribute to her town’s club: “Today was not Clonakilty’s day. We were gut wrenchingly close — just a point, in the end — and I feel so disappointed for my dad, and every player on that team who played with so much heart and determination and hunger to take that cup home to West Cork. Sometimes you just need a little luck and it wasn’t ours today. But I will always be proud to wear the green and red jersey. I will always be indescribably proud to be Haulie O’Neill’s daughter.”

And what about Loughmore, whose exploits and achievement have captured the country’s collective GAA imagination? Were they any less deserving last year, when they lost in injury time? In 2021, did they do anything differently or better? They won, says you. The puck of a ball. The flip of a coin. Winning and losing, the duality of sport.