The Master is dead, long live The Master

Diarmaid O'Flynn Talking Sport

It’s not just the mesmeric ability with ball in hand, it’s the intangibles, the feelgood factor for all those who see him play, the knowledge that here among us is a genius, a player for the ages, one who will be spoken of as long as gaelic football is played.

This past weekend, in radio and television, we heard a succession of moving, impressive tributes paid to the man who was known simply as ‘The Master’. Sean Purcell of Galway won just one All-Ireland senior football title, 1956 against Cork. And one by one, as each contemporary of Purcell’s spoke, those who had witnessed his greatness could have been speaking about the Gooch.

Not the biggest, check; not the greatest athlete, check; not the strongest, check. But, two-footed, quick on the short burst, able to turn on a sixpence, able to hold his own in the air, capable of scoring with his left foot from the left side of the field, with his right from the right; above all, always thinking, seeing the opportunities before anyone else, creating for other when he wasn’t doing the finishing himself. Is Gooch, only a few years into his career, in the process of carving out a similar niche for himself?

A game that people kept coming back to was the All-Ireland final of 1956, the first half especially, and the late Sean Purcell’s magnificent performance as he teamed up with Frank Stockwell to put Galway on the road to victory.

Well, what of Sunday’s Gooch’s demolition job on Cork in the first half last Sunday? Eight touches of the ball, five points from play, two simple pointed frees won, one marker taken off, another yellow-carded for those two fouls. Granted he had to get a supply of ball, but on a pressure day for The Kingdom it was as near-perfect a performance as you’ll ever see.

And yet, what do we hear of the Gooch? He has played himself into our consciousness, so much so that for the length of this piece, I won’t even have to mention his real name again. But why has he not been snapped up by the corporate side of Ireland, his name and face on every billboard and tv as he builds up a small nest-egg for himself on the advertising front?

I know there are GAA players out there a bit nervous about putting their head above the parapet, for fear of accusations that they were getting above themselves. But if the recent debacle involving a beer company is anything to go by, there is a market there, one that should be properly tapped.

It’s not just confined to the Gooch either. We had killer blond, Owen Mulligan and Stephen O’Neill of Tyrone, not just marquee footballers, but marquee names; why do we not hear more of these? Is there a reluctance in corporate Ireland, a perception that these guys are somehow inferior to the stars of other, professional, sports?

For the last few weeks, the hype machine for the England’s Rugby Premiership has started up again, and fair dues to them, that’s their brief. But these briefs need partners, corporate partners. Is there a bias against gaelic footballers, against hurlers? Are those who are charged with setting up major advertising campaigns involving stars of sport prejudiced against GAA players? A pity, if so, because they are surely missing out on a major market.

I never saw Sean Purcell, The Master, play, but I’m certain all those who did are genuine in their praise of a man who was as big off the field as on. The Gooch is still just 22, but already, for years, I’ve been reduced almost to speechlessness by some of his deeds, felt that pleasurable glow, like watching George Best in his heyday, that here was one of our own doing magical things. The Master is dead, long live The Master. Life’s inevitable cycle.