If Clare play as well as they did last day, they will win
Wait 53 years for a bus and then two come along at once. Typical.
Last season it was different. Last season neither side hurled well enough in the drawn match to have deserved the silverware. Last season the only possible course of reaction to Kilkenny’s 0-7 in the first half and Galway’s 1-4 in the second half was to give the pair of them a clip on the ear, then pack the culprits off on a three-week cramming course before hauling them back to sit their repeats.
This time around, not so. One team hurled well enough on September 8 to have won two All-Irelands; the other barely hurled at all. As a consequence, the outcome for the winners today will be more satisfying, more meaningful, than victory three weeks ago could have been. From Cork’s point of view because that wasn’t an All Ireland-winning performance or anything related to it, from Clare’s because beating Cork in a replay would be an even bigger achievement than beating them in a one-off.
But spare us the babble, please, about tradition and the power of the jersey and other such old-wiferies if Cork do win. Does anyone seriously believe Tony Kelly and cohorts — you know, those lads with two All-Ireland U21 medals in their pockets — have the slightest fear of the red jersey? Or have ever even given the slightest thought to said garment outside of possibly noting its similarity to the Manchester United shirt? That said, the red jersey can matter when you’re the person wearing it. Cork haven’t received enough credit for hanging in there last time out. In the end they made getting a result look inevitable; in real time, as when they trailed by five points five minutes from half-time and by five again 15 minutes from full-time, it was anything but.
But Conor Lehane and Pat Horgan — and Daniel Kearney in the first half — had the gumption to take it on and go baldheaded for goal when a point was the easy option. John Allen or Donal O’Grady might describe it as mórtas cine.
Pride of race.
Still, ancient amulets only have so much power. If Clare play as well as they did the last day, they’ll win, simply on the basis that Cork cannot play as badly once more and get away with it once more.
While we’re still on about the drawn game, let’s defuse a few misapprehensions.
It was an epic? Far from it. Never confuse a memorable match with a classic. This was a thriller, or at any rate it became a thriller once Cork began finding the net and the seesaw was set in motion. For a classic, however, look at 2009: 47 scores compiled by two teams who had the throttle wide open from starter’s gun to chequered flag.
But it would be a sad soul indeed who complained about the script in an action movie. Besides, Clare’s 0-25 and Cork’s 3-16 would have sufficed to win every decider bar one since the introduction of the 70-minute final in 1975 (Galway and their 2-21 in 1990).
Clare should have switched to seven defenders when they had a lead to protect? Poppycock. In a year or two they’ll be able to move seamlessly from attacking register to defensive crouch in the course of the same match and thereby close it out. But trying it here was far too big a risk, the more so because of the sheer absence of imperative. Clare were hurling Cork up several sticks. The pudding didn’t need any more eggs.
Clare should have started with seven defenders? This proposition is not as readily dismissed. They scored 0-25 as it was but with a sweeper against Limerick they’d hit 1-22. Yet the deployment of Pat Donnellan in the latter game was predicated on him covering a sector, and using open space to create, as opposed to covering for colleagues. The reason Clare conceded three goals to Cork was not the absence of a sweeper but collective dereliction of duty: failing to cut off Lehane, failing to realise Cronin might have things other than a point on his mind and to react accordingly.
We said something here the day beforehand about Jimmy Barry-Murphy being the human equivalent of both a good coursing dog and a lucky coursing dog. We hereby take this opportunity to suggest that on the evidence of what followed in Croke Park, his genetic balance may have slightly more of the fortunate canine about it. Had Napoleon been in attendance he’d unquestionably have made Jimmy his general of generals.
For Cork’s failings were abundant, on the sideline as well as on the field. Clare went out to fight a battle; the favourites went out to play a match and soon resembled a crew who’d gone for a nice Sunday sail in their yacht only to suddenly find themselves in the middle of the North Atlantic, tempest-tossed and taking in water on all sides.
Davy, as if to defy fears that he might try and be too clever for his own good, didn’t overthink things; Cork didn’t think enough about things. Coughing up a point after being caught snoring at one enemy lineball was careless, coughing up a second unforgivable. And was there nobody to tell Anthony Nash that longer is not necessarily better and that if you keep dumping puckouts on the same zone and they keep coming back at you, then how about dumping them somewhere they don’t keep coming back? Some of this mental lassitude may have sprung from a desire to have a semblance of normality about the training regime. What resulted was the players being besieged by autograph hunters after training on the Tuesday and Thursday beforehand, one of those little things that don’t lose All-Irelands but don’t conduce to winning them either. A lesson was learned and all subsequent sessions held behind closed doors. Not even dignitaries were let watch last week.
So they’ll be more clued-in today and they’ll hurl better. But Clare will once again make the pitch their grid, their precinct, their playground. If you’re dancing to the other guy’s choice of music, and he’s the DJ, then you’d better know the steps and you’d better have some ideas for improvisation.
One danger for Cork is that they could hurl better without actually winning and that Clare will hurl worse but still get a result. If the latter are not yet at the stage where they can win without playing well — always a trick beyond the county’s means in the Loughnane era — they’re close to it and getting closer.
Picture it. Cork are sharper, carve out a greater share of possession, gain some purchase against the opposition half-back line and dictate the running. But they don’t get through for goals and Clare stay in touch with long-range points. And then, with three minutes to go and the Banner two points down, Tony Kelly and Podge Collins conjure some sleight of wrist and bang, bang, bang. Can see it happening, can’t you?
At least Cork have Seamus Harnedy, whose absence would have been as big a blow as the absence of Pat Horgan. Harnedy is always relevant. He makes himself relevant. He has, in that wonderful word known to hurling folk and hurling folk only, cuttin’. He can win dirty ball, he can lay it off, he doesn’t try to do everything himself and when he shoots, he’s accurate.
Some other observations.
Luke O’Farrell remains a potential match-breaker for Cork despite his 0-1 in the last three outings. Lorcán McLoughlin finished the first half reasonably well on September 8 and can be expected to be more involved from the off. Colm Galvin needs to be more clear-eyed in his decision-making when venturing forward. Darach Honan puts one in mind of Johan Cruyff’s assessment of Glenn Hoddle (“too tall to be a world-class player”).
And while 10/1 no goals didn’t come in last time around, in which case this piece would have been filed from the Caribbean, the notion of Clare leaking three goals again is unconscionable. And after all of that, the same verdict as three weeks ago. Cork to win a battle they’re now truly steeled for. Clare to win the war over the next few years.
