There’s no excuses. We keep going until we get it right

Football is supposed to be enjoyable. A passion you share with your closest friends. At times, it’s the most satisfying thing in the world. Other times, it can be the most painful experience imaginable.

Let me explain: Building up to a big match, you’re on top of the world, itching to get out there. You have been training your ass off four or five nights a week for the last nine months, eating dry turkey and plates of veg, making sacrifices along the way, moulding your body into the best condition it can be in. Ready to rock.

As we were in the summer of 2014. July 6 was supposed to be one of those enjoyable days. Páirc Uí Chaoimh on Munster Final day, in front of 30,000. But it sank into ignominy. Suddenly the hype turns into this unforgettable sick feeling inside. You haven’t just been beaten. It’s much worse than that.