Maurice Brosnan: Are Limerick the greatest team of all time? This performance strengthens the case
TITLES on the line. That is the plain significance with finals. They will be remembered for something or someone. Every moment is agonisingly laced with that reality. Every play carries the leaden weight of history.
Who or what will this game be remembered for? Limerick already enjoyed their breakthrough final, the Covid final, at least one Cian Lynch final and a Gearóid Hegarty final. On Drumcondra Road before throw-in Shannonsiders wondered would it be Hegarty again. Sodden black and amber gravitated away from watering hole queues to the covered bridge outside Drumcondra Station. They carried with them clinking bags and amplifying hopes. The dream was Eoin Cody or TJ Reid or Adrian Mullen’s name in headlines. That today would be their day.
The first draft offers an inspirational tale of late bloomer Tom Phelan. The man who never hurled for Kilkenny as a minor and was an U21 panellist, finally offered a chance by Derek Lyng. The milk supply manager who wrings every drop from every display. His first senior final started with a slip and a smash. A sliotar just dropped as he drove down the centre. Then a Will O’Donoghue-shaped digger laid him flat. He rose to score three points and create two goals in either half. The Tom Phelan final beckoned.
Until it didn’t. Lynch came again. When the game was a game, he was truly magnificent. The dyed locks and tattooed bicep lifting aloft Liam MacCarthy with Declan Hannon would certainly make for a tempting title and tantalizing cover. In the first half Kilkenny clipped 10 scores from 17 chances. As the clock ticked towards the turnaround, they were six clear. John Kiely looked to his leader.
In that crucial instant, his yearlong man-management of the two-time hurler of the year reaped the ultimate reward. Remember Lynch did not play a minute of the Munster final. After that match the Limerick manager was adamant. Stars deserve the biggest stage. Come Croke Park his centre-forward would be ready. “By God, a hungrier player won't be on our panel.”
Lynch’s talent is such that in ways it is obvious that teasing it out and making it bloom would be pivotal if they were to secure a famous four-in-a-row. But it still took a leap of faith and trust to know that under the most intense of pressure, the diamond would emerge. Faith and trust in every component of the unit. The S&C coach and physio to have his body right. The psychologist to have his mind ready. The rest of the group to reach the platform and the player himself to come to the fore when the need was greatest.
It has become popular to claim true greats are in fact, ‘underrated.’ Nobody serious underestimates how integral Lynch is to the way Limerick operate. How they work, how they harry, how they score. It is not just about how he plays. The Patrickswell man brings others into the play. When he was absent Limerick still looked similar, but he thoroughly embodies the fundamentals they are all yearning for. The Limerick way is mixing it every way. He is just shy of six feet, a physical specimen and a skilled stickman. A wonder of both worlds.
What changed at half-time? Nothing. Limerick do not change. At the turnaround, they “reinforced” their gameplan, said Diarmaid Byrnes. Kiely carried the same message. They knew where they were struggling. They knew what needed to happen next. When they do what they usually do well, it works.
Eleven first half minutes without a score was the closest it came to a distress signal. Kiely turned to the screen assembled on a row of seats at the front of the Hogan Stand and studied it vehemently. Referee John Keenan gathered the players deep in Kilkenny’s half for a throw-in. Limerick lost it and started to lose ground, until Mikey Butler span away from a ruck and into a titan. Lynch sent him back towards his own goal, Seamus Flanagan set the ball free and a wild swing sent Lynch and his hurley hurtling.
Gillane converted the simplest of frees. He returned the favour with a pop pass to Lynch on the loop seconds later. He then picked up the ball in the archetypal style through a sea of bodies and surfed the swell until David Reidy was away in space. Space manufactured through Lynch’s magnetic quality. They chase him perpetually, doomed to never quite catch him.
For any opponent, this is a nightmarish dilemma. What is worse than not knowing who did the damage? Knowing exactly who did it and being powerless to stop it. A regenerating force that keeps finding possession and keeps driving directly at you. Kilkenny kept striving until they were spent.
Yet this is not the Cian Lynch final. There were other essential contributors to the cause. It was not just him who wrung that downfall. Even his wizardry was not enough to deny Paddy Deegan’s net busting goal that pushed Kilkenny five clear. During that third quarter, Kilkenny scored 1-2. Limerick hit back with 0-11. Kilkenny’s puckout went to pieces. Eoin Murphy drove eight long. Kyle Hayes and Diarmaid Byrnes plundered six of them. In the entire contest Kilkenny only won eight of 21 long restarts.
Just look at how they drew level for the first time. The sliotar driven long and Dan Morrissey bursting out. Mike Casey came sprinting off his shoulder. Hegarty was back scavenging in his own half-back line. He sent a typical diagonal ball into the corner when Seamus Flanagan made his typical run. Gillane offered support and lofted up a floater. Suddenly a guttural roar rained down from the stand and a flare ignited on the Hill. Limerick have witnessed that one before. And they know how it ends. History was clearing its throat. History has a habit of repeating itself.
Reid and Byrnes exchanged frees. Lynch acrobatically evaded two tackles and jabbed a handpass off his knees back to Darragh O’Donovan. Another Gillane free, another Byrnes boomer from his own 45. After an hour the margin was still just two. Peter Casey pelted over a standard Peter Casey score from the sideline. Hayes hit one from his wing. Casey did it again. The collective kept coming. The gap got wider. Seven. Eight. Nine. Cathal O’Neill came on and hit their target of 30. The final assist came from Lynch. Classic.
Back to the question of what we call this decider. It could be called after Lynch or record-breaking Byrnes and his scoring as a defender or the puckout annihilation. Combine it all. This was simply the four-in-a-row final. The first outside of the Big Three to achieve that feat. Are Limerick the greatest team of all time? A complete team performance like this strengthens the case. The nature of this pub talk conversation ensures it is still a debate whether they are the outright best. But at the minimum they’ve hit every required benchmark. In this epic pantheon, there haven’t been better.
They did it together and that is fitting. Does it even matter what it is called? After all, titles do not make men. Men make titles. Sunday was about a truly awesome side. They honoured that crown.
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