Davy Fitzgerald has found his way out of tactical dead end

Amid the tumult at a certain Slaneyside venue around 8.30pm this evening three weeks ago, on the night they freed old Wexford, a triptych of sounds could be detected, two of them admittedly on a frequency available only to dogs and bats.

First there was the noise from the thousands of jubilating locals present, soon overlaid by the strains of a public address system overseen by a DJ with an impressive record collection and a finely judged sense of the appropriate. The Boys are Back in Town, Glory Days and so on.

Then came the noise from behind the green door in the middle of the press facilities at the top of the stand. In view of the racket outside it was impossible to hear what was happening. But Davy was inside his bespoke box and it was fair to assume he was giving it loads. As he was richly entitled to, a 24-point defeat by Kilkenny in 2015 having been transformed into a three-point victory, a 27-point turnaround overseen by him.