Dying with boots on a key lesson for future champions
Last Sunday I stood on the field of Croke Park alongside the footballers of Mayo as Michael Murphy lifted the Sam Maguire and green and gold ribbons floated down from the heavens. Then after watching and waiting in silence as he made his speech, we made our way in unison towards the tunnel as the opening notes of Jimmy’s Winning Matches struck up. I looked up to see the cup above Colm McFadden’s head. I kept looking at it until it disappeared as we disappeared down the tunnel. What was once so near was now so far and gone, just like that.
We trooped into the dressing room. The last time we’d all been in there 50 minutes earlier, we were convinced we were going to win. Contrary to popular opinion, it was the second half, not the first half, in which we lost it. For a team that had been behind at half time in all but one of its Connacht championships this past two years, that had trailed Kerry by four points with just a couple of minutes left in both normal and extra time in the league semi-final, we felt we were in a great position, being only three down. Now, clearly, we weren’t.
