Canavan stills the storm
Looking down to the sidelines, I saw Joe Kernan and Mickey Harte desperately trying to get messages to their players. All around us, supporters were doing the same, clearly not realising the futility of their demented efforts. The din was incredible, followers whipped into a frenzy by the passion and effort of the players beneath them. Championship football, tight and taut. It made the hairs stand on the back of your neck.
Yesterday's All-Ireland semi-final was theatre on a grand scale, both Armagh and Tyrone running themselves ragged before 68,000 enthralled spectators.
The man beside me had a headache at the finish, and he was from neither county. For that and more, football lovers should be grateful to the much-maligned Ulster rivals. I had my own reasons for doubting both sides could put aside local grudges to present their best side on All-Ireland semi-final day, but they proved a lot of people wrong. And then some.
The celebrations after the final whistle said everything you need to know about the importance of victory here. This was a seminal moment in the rivalry of Tyrone and Armagh. Neither deserved to lose, but the fear of it drove both sides beyond normal human limits. The levels of fitness I saw yesterday were of a scale unseen by these eyes on a football field before.
The defeat could have decisive implications for Armagh. Removing Kieran McGeeney was a risk in some people's eyes, but was almost in keeping with the stunning nature of the day. But it was the right call, even a bit tardy. Tyrone frequently made direct inroads through the Armagh defence, and more than once, claimed vital points. Two from McMenamin and Cavanagh were memorable.
Armagh and Tyrone are up to 25% fitter than the Laois side which got to the All-Ireland quarter-final. Armagh, if we are to believe all we read, have taken the appliance of science to unprecedented levels but it will not put the ball over the bar.
Joe Kernan's side fell short in more than one area yesterday, but the most surprising was its lack of ruthlessness. They wasted crucial point-scoring opportunities at a critical stage of the second half.
Steven McDonnell squeezed an impossible goal to snatch back the impetus from Tyrone, but I can't remember Paschal McConnell being under pressure at any other moment. On the other hand, Paul Hearty made an early save, and seemed to be constantly staring down Owen Mulligan.
What effect the victory has for Tyrone will only be evident in three weeks. Luckily for Mickey Harte, their final opponents are Kerry, about the only county there is no chance of under-estimating. It was often said that an All-Ireland title was never truly won unless Kerry were beaten en route. Now Harte and his men have that chance.
They are a formidable side, that it obvious. Sean Cavanagh? Phew. This man is a monster, the Jack O'Shea of his generation. Yet he does so much, the deficiencies around him can sometimes be hidden. For instance, Mickey Harte may choose to revamp his midfield once again for the meeting with Kerry. Brian Meenan offered inadequate support to Cavanagh, and they will not get away with a possession deficit at centre-field again.
Joe McMahon may have solved the problem on the edge of the square, providing a reassuring sense of stability before Gooch comes to town.
In attack, Brian Dooher was uncharacteristically sloppy in many areas yesterday, and along with McGinley and McGuigan, will have to offer more in the final. No score came from the Tyrone half forward line yesterday.
Stephen O'Neill will have better days, though he finished with 1-4, while the question of Peter Canavan starting in the final will dominate some agendas. Personally, I'd continue to keep him in reserve.
If it appears rude to be moving so quickly from yesterday's enthralling fare, it's only because the All-Ireland final offers the ultimate footballing final. Tyrone did what they had to do in 2003 to claim their first All-Ireland.
Now they have the dream scenario as they strive for a second beat Armagh in the semi-final to leave only Kerry ahead.



