Enda McEvoy: Mayo change the ending and a nation has something in its eye
Mayo players Matthew Ruane, left, and David McBrien with former Mayo inter-county player Lee Keegan after the GAA Football All-Ireland Senior Championship final match between Kerry and Mayo at Croke Park in Dublin. Photo by Seb Daly/Sportsfile
Will Galway, as the great Tuam existentialists the Saw Doctors mused, bate Mayo? Debatable. Usually depended on the availability of Willie Joe.
Will Kerry bate Mayo? Not debatable. Extremely not debatable. This is Kerry and this is Mayo and the extent of the winning margin surely constitutes the only debate of the day, right?
Maybe not.
An hour to throw-in and the RTÉ guys and gal are outside the Cusack Stand. Lee Keegan is “very nervous”. Tomás Ó Sé is lamenting the fact that back to back All Irelands are “difficult to do”, a first-world problem if ever there was one. Peter Canavan points out that Mayo are for once arriving with no expectations and if they play like they did in the quarter-final and semi-final they’ll have a chance.
Around to the other side of the stadium where Marty Morrissey has a fascinating interviewee out on Jones’s Road. Frank D’Arcy was here 75 years ago, on September 23rd 1951 to be precise, when Mayo won their last All-Ireland. He was nine, he sat on top of a barrier, the match was fantastic (“no handball – football like the name suggests”) and there were hundreds of Mayo folk back from England for the occasion.
Frank is so chatty and articulate that Marty barely has to ask a question and at the end he hands Frank a white jersey – the colour they wore that day – with “D’Arcy 75” on the back. It is a lovely touch. Watch out for Frank hosting a chat show on RTÉ coming the autumn.
Over to BBC Northern Ireland where Sarah Mulkerrins raises the issue of whether Mayo might do a Galway-hurlers-last-Sunday on it. Not in the first half, Philly McMahon responds, because they’ll make sure to keep it tight. “This season has been absolutely bonkers and it wouldn’t surprise me if there’s an upset.” Oisin McConville also gives them “a real good chance”.
What follows is a feature of the BBC’s coverage that should be ditched next season. High in the Davin end Connor Phillips gets the thoughts of Rachel Duffy from The Traitors, two comedians and some TV guy. No. Just no.
There might have been a rationale for such a diversionary tactic a few years ago, when Gaelic football was at a nadir, on the basis that anything that took the viewer’s attention from what was unfolding on the field could only be welcomed. But we now inhabit the post-Football Review Committee iteration of the sport, where people kick points from 50 metres just for the fun of it, and giving airtime to a slew of C-listers bespeaks a lack of confidence in one’s product. From now on BBC Northern Ireland ought to let the football stand up for itself.
And the ball is in and the game is on and after 15 minutes Kerry lead by 1-4 to 0-1 and yes, we’ve seen this film before. Upon which something strange happens. The men, and boys, in white sidle back into proceedings, press the opposition kickouts and by half-time are back to within a point.
Tomás sounds nervous. “When Mayo get hands on the ball they are making hay with it.” Over on BBC the former Mayo stalwart Pádraig O’Hora declares he’d rather be in his lads’ dressing room than in the Kerry equivalent. “Mayo are the ones directing how the game is going.” Former Kingdom stalwart Killian Young, alongside Pádraig, invokes the spectre of Doomsday and no, it’s not Mayo he’s talking about.
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The second half. Marty finally gives us a “the tension is palpable”, one of his very favourites. Better late than never and to be fair, this is not exactly an afternoon for one of his other very favourites, “uses the short grip”.
Mayo point. Mayo point. Mayo goal. The challengers have all the momentum and are playing all the football, Éamonn Fitzmaurice acknowledges. A string of wides proceeds to sap their momentum but to some extent it doesn’t matter because they have the legs and they have the confidence and they simply won’t stop firing bullets. Éamonn again: “They’re happy to just keep shooting.”
Into the final furlong. Mayo’s five-point lead is cut to three. Then it’s cut to two. The tension is so palpable that Marty repeats himself. “The tension is palpable, the atmosphere is electric.” David Clifford, his brilliance even more refulgent on the bad days, is wide with a chance to level it. Mayo, instead of attempting to flute around with possession in their own half, charge down the other end and put matters to bed with the closing point. A nation rejoices, very possibly with something in its eye. “You are watching one of the most significant moments in the history of the GAA since it was founded in 1884,” Marty asserts.
Hyperbole? Perhaps. But if ever there was a day for hyperbole this is it.
Lee is unable to talk. Joanne has tears in her eyes. Even Peter has tears in his eyes; Tyrone men may not be as hard as we’d always assumed. On the basis that sometimes you say it best when you say nothing at all, Joanne has the good sense to call for silence and allow the pictures and the sound – the aforementioned great Tuam existentialists are now belting out the Green and Red of Mayo over the PA – tell the tale.
Jarlath Burns informs the winning supporters they’re not dreaming and invokes Our Lady of Knock. Jack Coyne gives it the holly with his acceptance speech and is well entitled to, given that he has 75 years of ground to cover. Mayo’s new most popular citizen Andy Moran reveals he felt his players were in “such a good place” coming into the match and from the 18th minute onwards were “just sensational”.
Turned out we hadn’t seen this film before. But what an ending.
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