Maurice Brosnan: Do you believe in Al Pacino’s inches? You should after Kerry's win over Tyrone
ROLLERCOASTER: Kerry's David Clifford looking for options oblivious to the frantic gesticulations of Tyrone manager Malachy O'Rourke in the background during Saturday's epic All-Ireland SFC quarter-final at Croke Park. Pic: Ramsey Cardy/Sportsfile
This is it. A Kerry kickout directed toward the Cusack Stand wing is intercepted by Kieran McGeary. Diarmuid O’Connor comes thundering down upon him. He has it. He doesn’t. Does he? No one knows.
Despite giving away several inches, the Tyrone wing-back somehow gets his hands on the ball first. O’Connor desperately stays in the fight and comes down with his own hands on it too. They land wrapped around one another, like opposing hooks, underneath the Cusack Stand. There are under 20 minutes left in this enthralling quarter-final. It is a two-point game. The big house is booming.
Referee Paddy Neilan opts to throw it up. O’Connor and McGeary continue to drag each other to the earth while Brian Kennedy and Mark O’Shea grapple like two bears in a cave. Kennedy gets a fingertip to the ball but it breaks towards O’Connor. The bounce is unkind; Tyrone flyer Seanie O’Donnell takes off with hungry champions scrambling after him.
From that break, Tyrone surge down the left wing and Eoin McElholm makes for goal. As he enters the large square, he unleashes a venomous strike towards the top corner. Kerry goalkeeper Shane Murphy sways right, while the O’Neills flies to his left. Here we go. Tyrone, in their treacherous state as underdogs, are about to take the lead against a back-to-back chasing outfit as we enter the final quarter.
His shot is inches too high. The young forward wheels away with his head in his hands, disgusted at the white flag instead of a green. There is a brief pause and he takes a look at the big screen in the Hill 16, sees the squandered chance back and swears.
“Life's this game of inches. So is football because in either game, life or football, the margin for error is so small. I mean, one half a step too late or too early and you don't quite make it. One half second, too slow, too fast, you don't quite catch it. The inches we need are everywhere around us. They're in every break of the game, every minute, every second.”
Al Pacino in Any Given Sunday could have been addressing the Tyrone team who were so valiant on Saturday and spoke with such dignity in the bowels of the stadium after their defeat. As much as we like to attach neat narratives to Gaelic football, to make sweeping statements and declarations based on the final scoreboard, the reality is that the difference between success and failure is infinitesimal in a contest like this.
Despite the brilliance of Murphy and Kerry’s kickout, Tyrone actually get to the next restart first. Peter Teague is out in front and breaks the ball in front of him. As he tumbles to the ground, he extends a paw, inadvertently knocking the ball away from a team-mate.
Paudie Clifford does heroics to stay in on the sideline and Dylan Geaney curls over a sublime point. The Dingle prodigy is in sensational form. Later, the astute Kerry journalist Andrew Moynihan will inform us that the number 15 has converted 17 championship shots, missing none. It is not a viable tactic for opponents to clog up the 13 slot when both corner-forwards are as lethal as they are.
Next kickout: Mark O’Shea launches like a human missile in front of Michael McKernan. He picks himself gingerly off the ground as they attack. They construct a slow attack until Gavin White takes off on a trademark burst. Eventually, Clifford flicks a pop pass inside the D, just beyond Mark O’Shea. It bounces, twice. Tyrone converge and descend.
But O’Shea dives full length across the turf, again. The selfless Crokes man flicks the ball towards his fellow midfielder. These teams fight for that inch, they claw with their fingernails… Sean O’Brien throws a loose boot at the ball and directs it back out the pitch. Pass, move, pass, pass and boom. Dylan Geaney kicks a sensational two-pointer and is throwing a defiant fist to the green and gold in the stand.
What has determined a denied Tyrone goal and a three-point swing at the other side is a whisker of the crossbar and a few fingertips. The dynamics are almost cruel. What did Clifford’s first man-marker, Cormac Quinn, do wrong for their goal? He lunged to intercept a handpass, and Clifford managed to just get his hand to it first. Not enough to catch it, just to scoop the ball off the ground. Conn Kilpatrick lunged, Quinn was screened by his team-mate, and Clifford took a hop to settle himself and buried it in the top corner.
To their credit, the competitors on the field already know the stakes and the knife-edge. After the hooter sounded, the parade of people who made their way to Mattie Donnelly was a sight to behold. He stood beneath the Davin Stand as a procession of players and coaches from both sides converged to offer a consoling handshake. Paudie Clifford waited until the media formalities had concluded to jog over and request his jersey.
Outside the team bus later, the 35-year-old took a moment to reflect. He has done it all: an All-Star, an All-Ireland winner, a veteran who still turned up this weekend and was immense, kicking three points from full-forward.
“Every year I’ve been on one-year contracts for the last few years; that was the intention this year, to give it one last throw of the dice,” he said.
“It is not the day to be making any statements. I just approached every game like it was the last one…”
He lingered with his daughter for a spell afterwards and looked around a dressing room heavy with potential, knowing how close they were to glory.
“Mixed emotions… The overriding one is gutted because you were so close. We were where we planned to be.
“Just a few moments didn’t go our way; we didn’t execute or capitalise on a few moments. We will look back on it and want some of those moments back probably, but at the same time proud of the group in general.”
Deserved pride. After a battle like that, when the margins are so tight, how could you not be?
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