The more things change...

O CARBERY thou should be living at this hour.

Apologies for the mangled Wordsworth, but events on the hurling field for the last few weeks compel us to invoke the late great PD Mehigan.

Between Cork-Waterford and the Limerick-Tipperary epics, the grand old man of GAA writing would have had his hands full in the last fortnight. He certainly would have enjoyed last Sunday in the Gaelic Grounds in particular.

Yes, we know that Limerick are now fully focused on the Munster final. We’re aware Tipperary are now girding their loins for the qualifiers. But a little enjoyment first before we put the proceedings in the history book.

For us, the defining moment came just before the start of extra time. The two teams had trooped off, exhausted, to a standing ovation from the entire attendance — one that was surely replicated in many a neutral sitting room around the country.

When they re-emerged, the two teams assembled, each in their own half, in a little huddle. They were in that particular part of the pitch, within the 65, where teams invariably seem to gather before going into their positions. For a moment or two, the entire infrastructure melted away — stands, cameras, 30,000 spectators: you might have been watching a league game between Mullinahone and Thurles Sars, or a clash between South Liberties and Ahane. Or any combination of clubs from any county you’d care to pick. Fifteen lads gathered in tight together, listening to a few words of wisdom before going out to drive it on, taking routes upfield and downfield to their positions as engrained as a salmon’s trek upstream.

It would have been familiar to Carbery — or any hurling fan from the last 130 years.

There’s so much choreography and pre-planning now at all levels of the game that it was almost heartwarming to see beyond the curtain. That was certainly the feeling after the match, too, with jubilant fans thronging the corridor between the dressing rooms.

This isn’t a moan from the pampered press, by the way. The thickets of Limerick youngsters of all ages in the bowels of the Gaelic Grounds showed you what beating Tipperary meant — and that’s no insult to Tipperary — and what being up close and personal with your heroes means. Too often those corridors can be funereal and antiseptic. That wasn’t the case on Sunday evening and the environment was all the better of it.

The mood of celebration spilt into the Limerick dressing room as well. There was backslapping and cheering, there was handshaking and hugging. It was honest. It was refreshing. As Limerick manager Richie Bennis said, it was mighty.

Which isn’t to say the proprieties weren’t observed. Tipp boss Babs Keating and chairman Sean Costigan were trying to get through the scrum outside the home dressing room but had little success until someone turned around and recognised them: then they were afforded a (relatively) easy passage through to the inner sanctum. When they re-emerged, having said their few words, they too were saluted and embraced. Nothing malicious, nothing smart. Just the respect that was due. Carbery would have recognised that, too.

You’d wonder what he’d have made of yesterday in Croke Park, though, where we saw the launch of “Bainisteoir — Hurling”, a computer game which devotees of “Championship Manager” will have no problem getting addicted to.

In the midst of terrific presentation by the company responsible — Tailteann Games of Tipperary — we were shown just how much detail was on offer to the bainisteoir — planning training sessions, adapting tactics, making substitutions — though there was a lot of polite coughing when we saw that you could budget several thousand euro for an expert selector.

If you’re not sure why, see page 25.

Something that caught this eye was “Dealing with the media” options. You can allow your players talk to the press and you can respond to articles.

One particular option looks doomed to wither on the vine, however: the one allowing the manager to “Praise journalist”.

We don’t think even Carbery would expect that to be pressed too often.

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