Final flourish a ‘fairytale script’

CROKE PARK had already disgorged most of its patrons onto the streets of the northside when some stewards walked out to the centre of the pitch and asked Bernard Brogan and three of his colleagues if they wouldn’t mind moving on.

Players from every sport you could care to mention talk about how quickly the euphoria of days like yesterday dissipates into the maze of more mundane memories and the quartet had strolled into the midfield to bank every last detail from the day.

” I didn’t know where I was,” said Brogan as he gathered his thoughts. “The emotion just took over. I had to ask someone who scored the last point. I couldn’t understand what had happened. It’s a feeling I never felt before, obviously.”