Kieran Shannon: Open, confident and happy to 'have the craic' - GAA all the better for Moran's example
The Sam Maguire Cup visits The Mayo Roscommom Hospice with from left, Cillian O'Connor, Aidan O'Shea, Jack Coyne, CEO of Mayo Roscommon Hospice Martina Jennings, Matthew Ruane and Mayo team manager Andy Moran. Photo Conor McKeown
No matter what manager Mayo finally won an All-Ireland under, the outpouring of joy and relief it would inevitably trigger was always going to make it one of the most compelling and uplifting stories Irish sport has known in decades.
And yet now that we’re not dreaming, now that it has actually happened, it has exceeded anything anyone could have envisaged: Supporters, players past and present, media, neutrals, even Kerry folk.
That in no small part is because of the identity and nature of the man who guided them to the promised land. Just as Mayo probably would not have won this All-Ireland under anyone else but Andy Moran, it likely wouldn’t have been as contagiously or universally uplifting either.
Almost as refreshing and life-affirming as Mayo’s story itself has been their willingness to tell and share it, a throwback to those innocent few years either side of the millennium when Loughnane, Griffin, Kernan and Harte generously let us in on how they knocked down heaven’s door for their counties and didn’t frown upon their players sharing their version of events either.
For the past 20 years we’d been denied such access, a watershed being Kilkenny denying Cork the three in a row to initiate their own four in a row; in the eyes of the Cats’ camp, Cork’s had been a little too self-satisfied and flaithiulach in their openness and willingness to tell us how they introduced and maintained probably the first high-performance setup the GAA had known.
After that the drawbridges went up all across the land. Kilkenny couldn’t understand why would you tell everyone how you won last year’s All-Ireland when you were trying to beat them to winning next year’s – and the one after that. The Dublin footballers took a similar view in their bid for world domination. Maybe give a few crumbs and cute stories in the late autumn to Off The Ball or the but otherwise keep them for the book when the career was over and you’d a handful of Celtic Crosses to hang it on.
Moran though has let the drawbridge down: welcome everyone, whether you’re from Mayo or not. His approach has been a bit like what he said to John Fogarty of this parish upon his team qualifying for this year’s All-Ireland. Our county has been starved of Sam Maguire for the last 75 years; if we go a bit nuts in telling them how it was done for them, let us.
Last Saturday in this paper to this writer Moran gave the most extensive insight yet as to how Mayo made their breakthrough. And while it will be difficult for any setup to recreate or replicate what he and Mayo have done for the simple fact it’s impossible to recreate one-offs like Moran and a Ryan O’Donoghue, his and their example should encourage more setups and coaches to allow themselves and their players loosen up and be their authentic selves on and off the field.
We don’t know if you picked up on it, but a term Moran used repeatedly through the interview was “human”. Not men. Not fellas. Not even person. Human. Like Enda Hession at 18 challenging him as a coach to “be a bit more specific” on whether he wanted him fucking here or there – “That’s the kind of humans he want!” The model of humility an AFL star like Oisín Mullin was to the whole panel and its newcomers Beirne, McGreal and McDonald in his gratitude for “letting me train with you” in Portugal and over the winter – “What a human.” Same with McDonald himself in how grounded and honest he remained and trained, despite his ascending profile. “What a human.” It was reflective of an approach that encourages full self-expression without bordering into self-indulgence.
Maurice Brosnan of this parish has more than once shared a sequence from a coaching demonstration Moran gave to Mayo coaches last winter. In it Moran takes a ball, does a stepover and then a nutmeg, imploring coaches to allow kids and players do the equivalent in Gaelic: let them play, show a bit of magic “have the craic” – which can only happen if you let them make mistakes. “Otherwise,” he says, “we’ll be up in Croke Park, saying, ‘Jesus, why don’t we produce a Clifford’” or other players that “make us [watch] of the edge of our seat”.
From that philosophy Mayo in year one of Moran were able to enjoy a McDonald fist-pass over a Cork opponent just as they’d to watch a sliced shot of his on the run in the All-Ireland final trickle harmlessly into Shane Murphy’s hands. And thanks to Moran’s willingness to share that philosophy you’ll now have coaches nationwide check themselves. Instead of shouting into that handy U14 corner forward that he should have recycled the ball instead of trying that shot on the non-dominant foot he’d been working on, they’ll be more willing to recognise and praise the effort.
What Moran and the selectors he surrounded himself with also demonstrates is that nice guys can finish first. That was the initial knock and even worry among Moran supporters upon his application and appointment – would he be too close to some old teammates? Would he be too nice with his propensity to have a warm word and welcome for all? But on Saturday he outlined in detail why Robbie Hennelly never got minutes against after Roscommon or Aidan O’Shea didn’t see the field again after Omagh. And that he’s not the manager of a business employing 35 people by accident. You can still be a nice person and make the hard and right call for your county.
Last Friday night was a further illustration of his courteous manner when upon his invitation himself and Colm Boyle gave the local media a further delve into the how this All-Ireland was won. Like his contemporary Ger Brennan, he made a point of referring to every journalist by their name upon answering one of their questions.
His interviews will be particularly noted with interest in Donegal. Not just on how after decades of having a split-squad arrangement, someone in Mayo finally shouted stop as Moran moved mountains to have more of his players move back from Dublin. But in how he embraced the two-pointer and the chaos of the new game and in kicking the ball. Just as the example of Michael Langan kicking 1-27 from midfield in championship 2025 inspired Mayo and Jack Carney, Carney’s willingness to kick two-pointers and Mayo’s willingness to kick the ball in general will not have been lost on Jim McGuinness.
No longer do you have to live under the tyranny of a turnover – or at least the fear of conceding one – and still win an All-Ireland. To win it all you’ve to be prepared to risk it all. Try a bit of magic. Have the craic. Make a mistake. Be yourself.
That’s the lesson of Mayo and their manager.
What an ambassador and inspiration for his sport, county and indeed humans.
