Clicking of the turnstiles pays for league overheads

I’m not trying to claim an assist, you understand, but I’d just like to state for the record that I’d raised the subject of overhead kicks at Turner’s Cross last week some time before Colin Healy lit up the night with his sensational exhibition of that fine art.

It was late in the first half, when an otherwise absorbing game had briefly gone a little flat, that myself and a colleague in the press box fell to discussing one of the seeming anomalies in the rules of football — the fact that a player can be penalised for raising his foot too high, whereas the overhead kick, when a player’s foot could not be higher, is not only deemed a legitimate move but, when it comes off, is regarded as, quite literally, one of the game’s highest achievements.

And rightly so — as Colin Healy duly confirmed by winning the game for Cork City against St Pats in spectacular fashion with just a couple of minutes left on the clock. Here was an almost textbook bicycle kick: Healy, back to goal with his eyes firmly on the ball as it fell from a height; his body horizontal in the air as he made the perfect connection; and then the shot itself, from a tight angle, possessing the power and accuracy to arrow into the far top corner.

Cue bedlam on the pitch and in the stands.

(Incidentally, in the spirit of credit where it’s due and correcting the historical record, I’m tempted to cite the incandescent heat of the moment for wrongly identifying in my match report last week the man who actually was responsible for the assist. At the time I thought it was Michael McSweeney whose header had popped the ball up into the air at the far post but television footage later confirmed that it was the indefatigable Mark O’ Sullivan who’d kept Billy Dennehy’s corner alive, and paved the way for Healy’s wonder strike).

I’m told that a YouTube clip of the goal has now had well in excess of 100,000 hits, a welcome boost in profile for the SSE Airtricity League at a time when the big kick-off across the water will make it seem to many as if there is only one game in town.

There were also just under 3,400 in Turner’s Cross to see the goal, another healthy turnout at a ground where, as far back as late June, attendances for this campaign had already surpassed the total for the whole of last season.

Yet, for all that clubs who struggle to pull in crowds will rightly envy Cork, the relatively disappointing aspect of the attendance for the Pats game is that it was still down by over 2,000 from the crowd which had been in the Cross for the previous week’s meeting with Dundalk.

The only logical explanation for the drop-off is the fact City had lost against Dundalk 2-1. In short, the vanishing 2,000 are willing to support their local team alright — but preferably through thick and thick.

“People say we’re a nation of sports-lovers but we’re really a nation of bandwagon-jumpers,” was how one Turner’s Park regular assessed the phenomenon, whereas the truth is that we’re probably a combination of both.

Cork City, in a great compliment to the club, manager John Caulfield, the players and its bedrock support, have attracted crowds in excess of 5,000 to the Cross three times already this season and, while I’m writing this in advance of last night’s League of Ireland action, City’s ongoing title tilt will hopefully ensure more bumper crowds to come before the season ends.

Of course, it’s disappointing when such attendances aren’t replicated throughout the league but, as the new season gets under way, I see little point in berating those whose preference is England’s Premier League, as the most passionate League of Ireland supporters often will.

It’s a matter of choice, after all, and with its combination of manifestly superior quality, star names, raging glamour and all the attendant bells and whistles, there’s an inescapable logic to opting for the remote control rather than the walk to your local ground.

But, equally, those who ignore or, worse, dismiss the League of Ireland are missing an experience which is the antithesis of remote: on a good night, with two good teams contesting a lively game, there’s nothing quite like the visceral sensation of being close to the action, especially when it can produce a moment as magical and unforgettable as the one Colin Healy served up last week .

On a night such as that, you’d be proud to tell anyone: ‘I was there’.