Red Hand Red Harte

THIS could have all been so different. This September evening, he might have been sifting through another year of unfulfilled Tyrone promise, rather than holding court in Carrickmore as the pitch quakes under the weight of a ravenous tribe.

Life has taken enough strange turns for Mickey Harte to realise this summer could have ended before it started. He recalls Clones in early May and an afternoon in which Paddy Bradley cut through the Tyrone defence like a sword, ripping it to pieces. Harte's critics were in voice leaving Clones. He was wrong to invest so much of the team's energy into the league, he had picked the wrong team, he was the wrong man. Harte wasn't listening. His mind was already immersed on the game and its sequel, what went wrong and what had to change.

"People look for defining moments in the year, and everyone thinks about the Ulster final against Down. I agree, to come back when you are nine points down and looking in bad shape was a great achievement.