Injury nightmares, new dawns and the solitary search for next spring

Operating theatres. Counterfeit smiles. Dark nights and lonely mornings. Burning frustration. Missing the Championship is some fun alright

It was a dream. The first time I captained the Cork senior hurlers in Croke Park was a league game against Dublin. I planned the day so I would always remember it. The journey there. The journey home. Fish and chips. The usual.

The first time I captained the Cork senior hurlers in Semple Stadium was against Tipp. In the first half, I reached to control a ball. There was a snapping noise, like a thick rope breaking. My achilles tendon sundered itself. A couple of hours later I was being wheeled into an operating theatre. I wanted to pee. I didn’t want to wet myself while I was asleep under the anaesthetic and being cut open. The attendant wheeling me through the doors told me I’d be grand.