UnLaoised

Garvan and Clancy? Much like the Laois footballers, you mightn’t have heard much about them before this summer odyssey. But that’s all changed. Mark Gallagher reports.

PAURIC CLANCY is used to getting recognised. When you stand a tad over six five and have his sort of fiery hair, it is easy to be conspicuous. Even if he hadn't been the propelling force behind so much of what is good about Laois this summer, you'd notice if Clancy walked into a room. Around Laois these days, his presence is duly noted wherever he goes.

"It's gas. You are a hero this week and if you don't perform next week, you can be the villain," he grins at how thin the line between admiration and admonishment sits. "We will keep at it anyway and see what happens."

What has been happening so far? Back-track to late Autumn and the arrival of Micko in the midlands was expected to be the missing ingredient. Instead, all the legendary manager did was uncover what was missing all along belief and character. In a few short months, Laois footballers have become the flavour of the summer. They were the first team to go to Croke Park and expose metropolitan limitations, doing so with a ruthless streak never before visible in their teams.

And they were cocky about it. Near the end, as Tommy Lyons was tearing his hair out, Clancy launched a monster kick from 50 yards, split the posts and shook his fist at the stands. Colm Parkinson told us all at half-time what it would take a month for most to accept that this Dublin side were over-rated and over-hyped.

There was a swagger and a style to this victory and it was directed from midfield.

Clancy stole the show with his all-action display, embellished by those two wonder points. Noel Garvan sat back and fed off Clancy's left-overs. Happy to be over-shadowed as long as a Leinster final was the prize glimmering at the end. In tandem, they were awesome, destroying the more-vaunted Dublin partnership.

"Yeah, but they have been destroyed a couple of times since then, so we are not going to rest on our laurels over that," Garvan beams.

Interesting Garvan should use that phrase. Resting on laurels. For the past few years, a young Laois team had to fight those accusations. Resting on those two All-Irelands under-age, satisfied with one good performance of a summer, not having the fortitude to cross the Rubicon and become the contenders their potential begged them to be. With each passing year, it looked like a little more of the brashness that carried them to three All-Ireland minor finals was evaporating.

Not too long ago, Garvan admits, Laois were deluded into thinking one good championship day led seamlessly into another.

"That was a problem. Lot of the times we would put in a good performance, think we were the great lads and go into the next game. I think we have realised now that you have to step up to every game, put it into every game, in order to progress in the championship."

While Garvan's light might not have shone as brightly as Clancy's, two decent displays have answered some critics. His Championship has been a microcosm of the team's poor against Offaly for 35 minutes the first day, he put in a good second-half performance, and offered more of the same in the replay. Against Dublin, he was quietly effective in ensuring the team reached the Leinster final people have been telling Garvan he should be playing in since he was 19.

"That is what Micko told us when he came. He got it into our minds that we have to start thinking about Leinster finals. We always felt we should be contesting a Leinster final, always felt there was enough talent in the team to do it. I suppose, the frustration of the last few years is why we are not. Micko just got a bit of organisation and belief.

"And now look at us," Garvan laughs as he squints against the evening sun. "Training in heat like this, training when Dublin and Meath are out of the championship. That must be a record for Laois football."

Not too many people in Portlaoise this evening disagree when you say Laois were victims of their minor success. Some of those were the same people expecting great things of footballers just out of their teens, though. Garvan was part of the class of 1997, a tall, gangly lad who found himself fast-tracked to the seniors within the year.

Before his feet rested steadily on the ground, he brushed against Niall Buckley's shoulder on his first championship afternoon. It was like he had slept through a couple of years of his life. Back in the late 1990s, there wasn't a more intimidating presence to be facing at throw-in than Buckley's.

That was the last time the teams met in the championship. Laois were creased. Most of the young lads found refuge in the greener fields of Chicago and Boston for the summer.

And that was how each season went. It didn't seem to matter who the manager was. Colm Browne and Tom Cribben both came and went, the promise of Laois remained unfulfilled. "We were playing football at the start, but maybe we weren't strong enough," Garvan recalls now.

"We were just out of minor. And year-by-year, you notice things. Players going backwards, the belief wasn't there. The under-age swagger we played with was gone."

Players dropped out of sight. The scent of a legend saw some return. But had Micko not parked in Portlaoise last Autumn, Garvan wonders how many of Sunday's side would have played this summer. "If it had lasted much longer, I don't know how many lads would have stayed. There were a lot of lads thinking about why we were bothering, what we were achieving. When you lose, those thoughts creep into your head. After losing to Meath last year, a lot of those thoughts were flying around the dressing-room."

Although much has been made of a lack of application in the past, Garvan believes too much was made of that, too little made of the fact that maturity only comes with time. After all, he is still only 24, like most of the panel. Now is the time to be thinking about Leinster and All-Ireland titles.

"It was stupid. You are 18 and two years later, you are meant to be winning All-Irelands. It doesn't happen like that. Maybe it happens in Kerry and Galway, because their minors are coming into a team with 10 or 12 established seniors.

"The same year, we played Galway in the Under 21 semi-final, six of that team were on the All-Ireland winning team that year. They had the likes of Ja Fallon and Kevin Walsh to give them a bit of balance.

"In Laois, we nearly went in bulk onto the senior side, there were a few like Mick (Lawlor) and Goggy (Damien Delaney). It could have worked, there was nothing wrong with trying it, but that didn't mean it would definitely work. And that was how people acted afterwards. People were coming up asking they were such great minors, whatever happened to them. We were looking around and saying, 'Jaysus we are still all here. All we are asking for is a bit of time'."

There is so much more about winning at senior level. It takes patience and time to develop. Moral fibre. Physical strength. Deciding on the path of your life.

"All those things take time. Lads have to make up their mind that they want to win an All-Ireland or Leinster. Playing county football is a lifestyle choice as well, you know. Besides all that, there is a massive difference between senior and Under-21, never mind minor. Sometimes, it takes lads longer. Just because you can bulldoze through people with 11 stone at minor, you won't be able to do that at senior."

Garvan was part of that impressive Sigerson-winning Tralee IT team and will spend a lot of time reminiscing about that fabulous year if you let him. "If you think there are characters on this team, then look at that team of characters," he recalls with a dewy-eye, spilling laughter.

Success came easily in his first few years in football. All-Ireland minor and colleges medals, Leinster under-21 medals and then he abruptly hit that roadblock that has been impinging on any further progress.

"We did train the last couple of years," Garvan explains. "It wasn't like nobody bothered to train and we all just turned up on the day of a championship match, although it might have looked like that. But we did put an awful lot of work in and it is kinda pointless putting all that work in if you keep getting knocked out at the end of it. You can't do that for too many summers.

"What we have shown this year is that we have a system in place, we know what we are actually about. Before, we were playing off-the-cuff football, which was nice to watch and nice to play but when things go wrong, there is no plan to fall back on.

"We are stubborn these days. We weren't running around a field in Portarlington last November for nothing. Look at the first Offaly game. There was a time they would have come out and kicked seven points in the second-half, we would kick two. Not anymore. We now realise we are better than that."

AND it has been the way Garvan and Clancy have blossomed as a partnership that has driven the team forward. Opposites often attract in the footballing engine room and so it has proven again. Clancy's bursts are augmented by Garvan's fielding.

For Clancy, Sunday's final drips with some family history. Fifty-seven years ago, Laois won their last Leinster title, beating Kildare by two points in the final. His grandfather, Jim Sears was full-back in that Laois team.

"Yeah, he was 6'4", played full-back. He never says much about it, just that they won a tough game and Roscommon beat them in the semi-final," Clancy says with a little animation. "I think I get the height from him and the bit of luck from my grandmother."

In what has become a pre-match tradition for Clancy, his grandmother sprays holy water on his boots and gloves before every match.

"It has worked so far. Hopefully it will again this week," Clancy says. And to think, there were some who thought his footballing pedigree was all to do with the fact he had Kerry roots. "Well, they say there is a bit of Kerry in my football. I don't know. As long as we win, they can say what they like."

They have talked a lot about this Laois team. It seems they have got the right man to fine-tune them. A Leinster final where Micko tries to destroy the dreams of the last county he led from the doldrums.

As the man would say himself, sure if you scripted it, they wouldn't believe you. But, they have started to believe in Laois.