Thriving at Thirty
AT THE time, it seemed reasonable. I was thinking of his Kerry colleague Paul Galvin, and the wrecking ball manner in which he throws himself into tackles, without a half-thought for the welfare of his bone composition.
At 30, Seamus, do you occasionally wince at the intensity of the game?
Moynihan's look turned my soup cold. "Listen, if you don't have that focus, just forget about it. If you are not going to go into it gung ho, if you're not (or can't) put your body on the line, you're not going to be at the races come June or July."
Moynihan eased back in his chair. "If you have the foundation built, you should be ok."
How could you think he might be, could be, would want to be easing up at this stage? Dope.
Well, the dogs on the street told me. The world and his aunt heard the tales of his distraught state after the 2002 All-Ireland final defeat to Armagh, and after last year's torment from Tyrone, it was practically advertised on the back of the parking discs in Killarney. Moynihan's had enough!
Perhaps, then, the achilles injury last Autumn with Glenflesk did gaelic football a favour, and gave Moynihan the break his body, and mind, craved for a decade.
Twelve weeks of nothing has refuelled the man: "I wasn't able to run or do anything. I didn't even look at a ball in that time. Now I'm hungry it's the first time since I started playing competitive football that I've had complete separation from football," Moynihan said.
Kerry coach Jack O'Connor might be tempted to occasionally rest Moynihan, but for the fact that Seamus doesn't do half-measures. An Irish Examiner junior sports star winner in 1990 (along with hurling star, Brian Corcoran, incidentally), this is a man for whom it's a "privilege" to be born in Kerry, who would cut his own legs off before he'd contemplate wearing the jersey of another county.
He is conscious of the enormous effort required these days to play inter-county football, but not afraid of it. "The commitment isn't a problem. It's the injuries that are the killer. If you do your cruciate ligament, what goes through your head? It's not getting back into shape. It's 'am I going to be as good afterwards?'."
Though it's only 24 hours after an Allianz League game, Moynihan restricts his intake to a cup of tea as he prepares for a swim and a weights session. "As far back as 1992, we trained very hard then under Ogie Moran. We were on every Tuesday, Thursday and there were some real gruelling sessions.
"But now it's every night. Concentration on the game totally takes over your life. There's nothing else that can take precedence. Unfortunately players have to work during the day, but even from nine to five, you're drinking water, stretching, and watching what you're eating."
Since Kerry won their last All-Ireland, with Moynihan as an inspirational captain, in 2000, Ulster counties have undoubtedly taken the game up a level. "It's no longer coming into training at 7pm. Now you come in an hour before training for physio. Your entire thought process revolves around the session anything to give you the extra one or two per cent. Even when you're off, you are trying to do something like stretching or weights, you are always conscious. It's a big change."
Which is why some feared Moynihan might walk, might enjoy life. Hell, maybe get married.
"I'll play with Kerry as long as I possibly can," he said. "I'll know when the day comes to walk away. I still think there is a good squad in Kerry, good depth in the panel. The days will be long enough when you are walking into the stadium watching it. Ex-players I'd be friendly with are always saying that there's nothing like the buzz of togging off, being involved.
"Yeah, you can go downtown the night before and have the few beers, soak up the atmosphere, but wouldn't you rather be in the thick of it? I am as enthusiastic about it now as I was when I started."
But things change, most of all perception. Kerry sent up the jerseys in O'Dwyer's time for the semi-finals with Ulster counties. Now they're eating dirt.
"We will never have the Mafia-like control of that Kerry team they were at a different level. People aren't as intimidated by Kerry nowadays, but we're still one of the top eight teams in the country and once the summer comes, we'll be there or thereabouts again.
"People say things have slipped down here I'm not so sure. Look at Limerick. They are going to be serious contenders this year. That would never happen before, so it isn't that Kerry has dropped their standards the rest have upped theirs."
Earlier this week, one of Moynihan's East Kerry friends, Declan O'Keeffe, walked away. Injuries. Desire. Getting married this year.
"I don't think getting married would make any difference to a footballer, but having kids must make things very difficult. That's why I admire Johnny Crowley. He has two kids, and travels 140 miles three times a week to train, as well as holding down a job. It proves that whatever obstacles are in front of him, he still has the desire.
"Players that are single and without children don't have to get up at 2am to feed or tend a sick baby. But even for those that are in the situation, it proves that if you want it bad enough, you'll organise your life around football."
Last August 24, boiling frustration consumed Moynihan. Defeat in Croke Park for a second successive year was bad in itself, but which was worse? Throwing an All-Ireland away against Armagh or not showing up for the battle with Tyrone?
"They were both gutting defeats. In 2002, we played fantastic football all the way up, the best for 15 or 20 years. But we made the fatal mistake of losing our concentration in the second-half.
"Look at Kilkenny last year in the All-Ireland hurling final with Cork. They had a poor enough final, a bad second half, but they still dug it out. That was a lot sweeter for them than the ones the previous years, when it was all flicks and free-flowing hurling. They had to dig deep for it.
"When things really went against us in the second half against Armagh, we weren't able to knuckle down to get the handy score which might have steadied us.
"Against Tyrone last year, we just weren't at the races, completely off the pace. They played at a higher intensity in the first half and we looked like a team that hadn't played at that level before. Three or four man tackling? We couldn't deal with it."
In the solitude of the losing dressing room, Moynihan compared the midfield exchanges to "Times Square at rush hour," admitting that it wasn't "the Kerry way."
Time and reflection hasn't changed his opinion. "It wasn't sour grapes, nor were Tyrone's tactics the reason we lost. It was more a general comment about the state of the game.
"In the (All-Ireland) quarter-final against Roscommon, Darragh Ó Sé caught seven or eight clean balls in midfield. Nobody could compete with him in the air.
"But with the new trend of 'smothering' the game, there's no reward for a midfielder to display one of the great skills of the game, because when he comes down he is surrounded by three or four players, and immediately bottled up.
"Maybe the rules-makers should reward fielding by introducing the 'mark' from the kick out. As it stands, the opposition are saying 'we don't have to catch it, as long as you don't'."
When those defeats eat at Moynihan, he has the solace of the video-player and the tapes of the 2000 campaign when he was a super-charged superman. Moynihan doesn't do comforts. "I've never even watched the final (replay)," he insists.
Whereas the 2000 player of the season believes Kerry enjoyed strokes of fortune in the four thrillers with Armagh and Galway that year, Moynihan provided ample substance to the debate about his exclusion from the GAA's team of the millennium. In this paper, Mick O'Dwyer described him as "a footballing phenomenon," who was the only modern day player to walk onto his Golden Years teams.
He threw himself around Croke Park like a demon in the semi-finals and finals, blocking certain scores and eclipsing his great friend Pádraig Joyce in both clashes with Galway.
But with an outrageous sidestep, he counters: "I would say 1997 was better. That All-Ireland (against Mayo) was really special. Also, we won the League, IT Tralee won the Sigerson Cup, East Kerry won the Championship, and Glenflesk won the (East Kerry) O'Donoghue Cup."
Though the Maurice Fitzgerald final against Mayo was a turgid affair, Moynihan has a different perspective. "Look at Peter O'Leary, Sean Burke, Stephen Stack, Fitzie, Liam O'Flaherty, Eamonn Breen, Billy O'Shea, and Pa Laide. They had been with Kerry on some pretty hairy days. Now they had one shot at an All-Ireland, one go. There was a total release of pressure afterwards because we hadn't won an All-Ireland in eleven years. Those memories are even fresher in my mind than 2000.
"That's why I say I'm lucky to be born in a county like Kerry where you have a great chance to win a Munster or All-Ireland. The last three years have been bad, but we've still been in an All-Ireland and two semifinals. I remember in the early 90's seeing fellas like Morgan Nix, Sean Geaney, Connie Murphy and Gerard Murphy, plugging away, playing for years and getting nothing out of it. They were the unlucky ones."
Moynihan must have agonised over the acrimonious departure of Páidí Ó Sé from Kerry. Together as manager and player for over a decade, the Glenflesk man remains fiercely loyal to his ex-coach. "There was a huge allegiance there. He put two All-Irelands and six Munster medals in our back pockets."
He was also the man who put a No. 3 jersey on Moynihan, a move still calculated to start a row when any two Kerry men get together.
"At the moment, Mike McCarthy seems to be flying at full back, and there's a nice bit of defensive cover for me. Being wing back means you are more involved out around the middle of the field.
"You have to know where your man is. But if your midfielders are dominating, you can springboard off that. Whereas at full back, you might beat Pádraig Joyce or Peter Canavan for nine balls out of ten before they punish you.
"It's an especially hard position to play, especially with most teams going to a two man full forward line. You can be exposed badly, whereas you could be beaten five times at wing back and there would be nothing about it."
Professionally, Moynihan has put his food science degree to use with a new job at Musgrave's Food Services, and while he recognises that his sporting fame "opens doors," he is quick to add: "But that's all it will do. People won't deal with you just because you blocked a ball in the All-Ireland final."
Moynihan was the GPA's first secretary, and ever before the recent tax break clamour for GAA players, had pointed out its merits.
"Charlie McCreevy brought in tax relief for professional sports stars when they retire why can we not earn some money tax free up to a certain point. At least, give us some incentive. There is no player making money out of this, and many are definitely losing money.
"It's time and effort if you were giving it to a second job, you'd be using the money to pay for a mortgage, but even if you have financial pressures, the option of doing something in your spare time is gone."
Moynihan was a St Brendan's College student of Sean Kelly, but insists there is "no point" in the GAA president, forming an "official" players' body.
"It would be more important for the GAA to form stronger ties with the established players group, the GPA. This group will get strong and stronger. They are not a bunch of militants, they are doing innovative things all the time. Things that mean a lot to players."
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