Dublin v Kerry: The New Catechism of Cliché
IT’S easy to imagine Myles na gCopaleen dusting down his old Catechism of Cliché and having some fun with the famous Dublin and Kerry rivalry.
When is there something special about Dublin against Kerry? Always.
And why is there something special about Dublin against Kerry? Because there’s nothing quite like Dublin against Kerry.
And what incomparable sight adds to the uniqueness of this fabled rivalry? The sight of the green and gold and sky blue in Croke Park in September.
There’s nothing quite like it? Correct.
And what structure upon reaching capacity will set the pulse racing like nothing else? A packed Hill 16.
And what is this great rivalry based on? The mutual respect of two proud footballing counties.
And what kind of memories does this incomparable occasion evoke? Fond memories.
Of what? Other great days and great games and the great players of the past.
In what manner will today’s players keep pace with the these vaunted players of the past? They will follow in their famous footsteps.
But what happened to these great rivals of the past? They became great friends afterwards.
And how long has this friendship endured? To this day.
And what strain of banter will the supporters of Dublin and Kerry engage in? Good-natured banter.
When can this good-natured banter be heard? Before and after the game, win, draw or lose. Where? In the hostelries around Croke Park.
And what geographical fact of this great rivalry will add a sociological frisson to the occasion? It’s all about city versus country.
What extreme amorous intent sustains the appetite for victory shared by both sides? Dublin love nothing more than beating Kerry and Kerry love nothing more than beating Dublin.
But Kerry nearly always beat Dublin! Ah, I see you have been dipping into Dublin versus Kerry: The New Catechism of Cliché.
The what? Let me explain.
Please do, but can we stop with the silly imitation of the great Myles na gCopaleen?
Suit yourself. Dublin v Kerry: The New Catechism of Cliché holds that the great rivalry between Dublin and Kerry is not a great rivalry at all. At least not anymore. It’s becoming an increasingly popular thesis among the Dublin football fraternity who have decided that reminiscing about their battles with Jacko, the Bomber and Mikey wasn’t really getting them anywhere.
Given that Dublin haven’t beaten Kerry since Elvis was in the charts with ‘Way Down’ and Fianna Fáil were winning overall majorities, the whole thing is just an illusion sustained by the media and The Cute Kerry Hoor because it suits both parties to have Dublin footballing folk feeling good about themselves in high summer. The inconvenient truth, meanwhile, is Dublin haven’t managed to get hype and history to rhyme in 16 years while Kerry are in their tenth final since John O’Leary raised Sam Maguire to Hill 16.
To those of us reared on the romance of the Kerry Golden Years video, the claim that Dublin v Kerry is still a rivalry of equals just doesn’t bear relation to reality — it’s anything but equal. Although their paths might have crossed the same amount of times (five including the 2001 replay) in the championship in the noughties as they did in the seventies, Dublin have played the role of sparring partner or kingmaker for the real contenders too often in recent times. Kerry have won eight and drawn one of the last nine games between them. That’s bordering on hegemony and, while Kerry folk respectfully tend to make little of this lopsided relationship, there is a sense among them that their team is always capable of beating Dublin.
Not so with Tyrone of the past decade or even Offaly of three decades ago. We’d much rather not go there. Not too many people down in Kerry bought Mickey Harte’s book “Presence is the Only Thing” when it hit the shelves two years ago. Too raw, too truthful, too painful. Very few went to the bother two years earlier of reading Michael Foley’s wonderful “Kings of September” chronicling the three-year rivalry between Kerry and Offaly that culminated in possibly the most famous All Ireland final of all time in 1982. Too cruel.
Tom Humphries’ “Dublin v Kerry- The Story of the Epic Rivalry That Changed Irish Sport” rested an awful lot easier on the coffee tables in the Kingdom when it was published five years ago. We got the drill with that one and it was a lot more palatable to a lot of us.
While there is a certain element of truth in the claim that Kerry people like romancing about the rivalry, such as it is, between themselves and Dublin, it is easier also to see how a bond might have formed between the two groups of players in the past. I have no doubt the bond runs a lot deeper than, perhaps, the recent generation of footballers might acknowledge. While being acutely aware of our football heritage, I never once considered Dublin to be a genuine rival during my playing career from 1993 to 2005. Apart from the obvious rivalry with Tyrone, a brief rivalry with Galway at the turn of the millennium and the perennial clashes with Cork, we really didn’t have a particular history with any county. The bond between the players of the 70’s and 80’s formed at a time when having a laugh and a pint with the enemy was the norm after the match. It was also a time when people in both counties tended to view the county football team as the prism through which they viewed their own identity. That was never going to be the case in a much-changed Ireland this past decade. It’s nobody’s fault, that’s just the way football seems to have gone. A lot of people are taking themselves very seriously these days and if rivalries exist, they are likely to be played out on an internet forum and in cyber-chat between supporters of both teams. The on-field rivalries these days rarely extends to forming relationships away from the pitch and that might explain the sometimes toxic relationships between certain counties.
There is a theory abroad these last few weeks that a Dublin win would be good for the GAA and the alternative not so much but, understandably, that train of thought doesn’t sit all that well with people in Kerry. Should Kerry win the battle between the heritage pairing on Sunday, no doubt we’ll be hearing of some pressing reason on Monday why this one mattered more than most but apart from David Hickey and Ger O’Keeffe being on opposing sidelines, the tenuous link to the great rivalry of the past is unlikely to be grist to the mill. Players on both sides on Sunday tend not to inhabit their traditions and heritage as much as we would like to think. It’s all about the here and now when you’re part of the community of a team preparing for an All Ireland final.
So goes Dublin versus Kerry: The New Catechism of Cliché.
What is it then, a great rivalry or a bogus rivalry? The truth, unsurprisingly for those who know their clichés, lies somewhere in between.
DUBLIN’S high-tempo defensive game versus Kerry’s high possession game; Kerry’s ability to penetrate close in compared to Dublin’s long range shooting preference – just two of a range of significant contrasts that have emerged from a statistical analysis of Sunday’s All-Ireland finalists games this year.
Vodafone stats in the run-up to Sunday’s final – a direct comparison of Dublin and Kerry’s last four games – reaffirms there will most definitely be a clash of styles.
Dublin’s high-tempo defensive strategy and how it contrasts with Kerry’s game emerges prominently, including in the possession stakes where the Leinster champions’ average over the four games was 47.75% compared to Kerry’s 57.75%.
Further evidence of this comes from Dublin’s high level of turnovers — they forced 80 over the four games compared to Kerry’s 42. The Munster champions’ heavier reliance on retention of possession is also backed up by their higher number of solo-runs, 435 compared to Dublin’s 253.
Another glaring contrast from the past four games is the shooting patterns. Kerry carved out over three times (61) the amount of attempts from inside the 21 yard line as Dublin (20), whereas Dublin show a greater propensity for long range shooting (outside the 21 yard line) – although not near as stark as the close-in ratios — with 93 attempts compared to Kerry’s 72.
The long range shooting, however, would not appear to affect Dublin’s accuracy as they had just one more wide (34) than the Kingdom over the four games.
However, Kerry’s scoring total was significantly higher than Dublin’s, with the Kingdom achieving a 23.25 (4-81) average per match compared to Dublin’s 16 points.
Passing ratios also show up some notable contrasts, with Kerry relying far more on the hand-pass (664) compared to Dublin’s 475 but with little difference on short or long-kicked passes. On the ‘frees against’ count, Dublin conceded 95 compared to Kerry’s 78, while Kerry fielded three times (18 to 6) the amount of kick-outs over the four games.
Dublin’s averages were, however, significantly skewed by the semi-final clash with Donegal against whom their possession dropped to as low as 42%. That instantly forgettable semi threw up a number of irregular statistics, not least on the hand-passing ratios, with the Ulster champions (with 247 hand-passes) having almost three times the number of Dublin. Indeed, in just one game against Dublin, Donegal had more than half the total number of hand-passes from teams against Kerry over the four matches. There were a total of just seven shots from inside the 21 yard line in the Dublin v Donegal semi-final, compared to the average of 25 in each of Kerry’s last four games.
5 A litre of Lee Strand milk.
4 A chunk of turf from near where Mikey chipped Cullen in 1978.
3 Dark glasses so your soul isn't stolen by the iron horse.
2 Phrase book for dealing with the Dublin people.
1 Platinum pass for Coppers.
5 That lucky top from the 1977 All-Ireland final: unwashed.
4 A sheet with the words from 'Come On You Boys In Blue'.
3 A lump of coddle left over from the 1993 semi-final.
2 A sheet of paper with 'Jason Sher-' scrawled in the top corner.
1 Platinum pass for Coppers.
