Joy follows years of pain

SOUND travels in waves. And the roar that greeted the final whistle in Páirc Uí Chaoimh yesterday afternoon, at the end of a tumultuous Munster SHC semi-final was tidal.

It may have surged down the adjacent Lee, bounced off the various little bays and inlets along the south coast, echoed off the banks of the princely Blackwater estuary, where two counties collide, and washed all the way back to the proud and ancient city of Waterford. It was probably waiting there late last night to welcome home the thousands of faithful fans who had set it rolling in the first place.

It was a howl, a communal bellow from deep in the throat of a county that has had a bellyful of disappointment. Or maybe it was a cry of relief after a game which moments earlier, like so many before, had been slipping from them, but this once, had been rescued with minutes to spare.

It's been said many times that there would be no games, no hurling, no football, no spectacle, without the players. Inarguable of course, and there they were again yesterday, a wall-like Waterford half-back line anchored by captain Ken McGrath, flanked by Brian Phelan and impressive late call-up Brian Wall.

In attack, big Dan Shanahan was almost repeating his hat-trick heroics of the first-round win over Clare with two unstoppable first-half goals. There was corner-forward John Mullane, watertight-marked by Paul Curran, but still slipping in for a vital goal, and there was youngster Paul O'Brien, with that cooly-taken late, late goal for the Decies.

For Tipp, there was a full-back display for the ages by Phillip Maher, there was the confirmed hurling genius of Eoin Kelly, almost a one-man attack, and not for the first time, incredible saves by Brendan Cummins.

But the atmosphere, the carnival we were all privileged to witness in magnificently-prepared Páirc Uí Chaoimh yesterday, was created by the fans, the 35,500 frenzied, partisan, jersey-wearing, flag-waving, clued-in, glued-in hordes whose roars of delight and groans of despair ebbed and flowed in an amplified reflection of events on the pitch.

The first twenty minutes was a throat-clearing exercise as Waterford battled to an 0-3 to 0-2 lead on the field. Then it came.

After 21 minutes, Waterford and big Dan had a goal signaling the first eruption. Four minutes later the same player, the same result, the same response. Those cheers hadn't even died when it was Tipperary's turn with Eoin Kelly, the hurling wizard from Mullinahone hitting 2-1. The crowd could barely draw breath.

The teams were tied at 2-3 apiece and both sets of fans were now in full voice. Just before the break, it was Waterford once more to the fore, their other forward talisman, John Mullane, taking a pass from the unselfish Michael Walsh, shooting on the run past Cummins, to give Waterford a one-goal half-time lead.

So to the second half. With Eamonn Corcoran coming to terms with Dan Shanahan and Mullane getting no change from any of a reinforced inside defence, Tipperary wrested the initiative from Waterford. Now it was the turn of the blue-and-gold brigade to make their considerable presence known.

In the 59th minute, midfielder Colin Morrissey raced in behind the defence on the end of a mammoth Cummins puckout, kicked to the net (after fouling the ball!) and, for the first time since the 12th minute, Tipperary had the lead, 3-11 to 3-9.

It is at this stage that Waterford teams of the past have crumbled; it's at this stage that Waterford fans of the past have begun to feel the onset of that old familiar, the pain of defeat. Not yesterday. This is a different Waterford, this was a different result. Yesterday the team delivered. Yesterday at 5.30pm in the sun-drenched Páirc Ui Chaoimh coliseum, Waterford fans got to celebrate.

At the final whistle, they cheered their heroes to the echo.

At the final whistle, those same players celebrated the fans.

"They were brilliant, really up for it today," said Dan, their man. "We had to get a Garda escort from Youghal on. The number of supporters on the road was unbelievable. I'd like to thank them for their support. All through the years, they've been there, seen us losing. Now we're paying them off, slowly but surely."

John Mullane too was in tribute-paying mode. "It was absolutely fantastic, probably the best game I ever played in, atmosphere-wise. Tit-for-tat, supporters getting involved all over the place, it was a dream to play out there and the noise at the final whistle was something else. We have great supporters and they really got behind us today, they were absolutely fantastic."

And then, a wish from Mullane. "I hope the Munster final is in Thurles, that's where the Munster final should always be played. Keep us out of Limerick, for the sake of the supporters. It's not fair on them bringing them all the way up to Limerick.

"Thurles is the spot for the Munster final, it's always a great occasion."

Nothing is set in stone, but Thurles it will probably be. Waterford, and Cork; white-and-blue, red-and-white, a repeat of the final of 2003, lost late by Waterford in the fashion to which those legions of fans had become accustomed. Not any more.

"Over the years, in games like this, we've died, given up," Mullane admitted, with admirable honesty. "Even today it was looking like that again. Fellas were missing easy chances, myself included, but we kept at it, kept at it and it paid off for us in the end."

They won. Won a game that in truth, the heroics of Cummins/Maher/Kelly notwithstanding, they should never have remotely looked like losing. But they won, came back from the brink to send their supporters over the edge. In the annals of Waterford hurling, yesterday was a red-letter day.

There will be more.