IT’S ONE FOR ALL! True team effort pays off as jubilant fans hail Limerick heroes
THIS is a victory for all of Limerick. The recognition by the players of what they represent, and of the tremendous levels of support they attracted through the summer, has been one of the most impressive aspects of their response to victory on Sunday.
The tens of thousands that heralded their return home yesterday evening provided a moving reminder of the effect that this side have had on one of the true Irish sporting crucibles.
And the players have immersed themselves in the happiness of the friends, family and strangers. There hasn’t, thankfully, been talk about the snatched, precious moments they spent together in the dressing room being their highlight.
The bond between a championship-winning team is tighter and more intimate than any outsider could ever know.
But this wasn’t just their day. The Limerick players understand that and judging by the noise that came from their quarters after the match, half the county was in there with them anyway.
They have danced and cheered with their people, as they should, because this was a triumph for all of them.
And just as the joy has been a communal one, to reach it they had to battle past the shared pain of 45 years, too.
Shane Dowling was characteristically enlightening and colourful on this topic on Sunday night.
‘We weren’t there, it had nothing to do with us, but it just goes to show how much that particular match influenced the current crop that’s here today,’ he told RTÉ.
He was talking about 1994, the Five-Minute Final that spawned a quarter-century of shuddering memories that haunted generations of Limerick hurlers.
Players on that team have admitted to nightmares that plagued them for years afterwards.
And Dowling’s comments suggest the memories of that day against Offaly, when Limerick led by five points with five minutes to play and lost the game, were caroming around a few heads as Galway’s desperation swamped their defence.
‘Sure I was there; I saw what happened with my own eyes,’ John Kiely said of ’94, the mention of it creasing his face even on the joyous day.
‘You can’t block it out. You have to acknowledge it and just hope that the lads get over the line this time.’
They did, only after withstanding Galway’s frenzied fight to survive, but also the whispers of a ruined past.
Think of the slurs and the nastiness sold as punditry that would have been laid against them had they faltered and let Galway back.
Those fears and the gathering cries of old ghosts climbed inside plenty of Limerick heads, on the pitch and in the stands.
But by the full-time whistle, they were consigned to the realm of forgotten things.
And that didn’t happen accidentally. The mental fortitude of this terrific group is a large reason why they are still celebrating today, why their county is en fete and will be for the rest of the week. The support they got from their following was a sight to behold, and the noise on the final whistle in Croke Park will live in the heads of those who heard it for a very long time. But the players had to make good on that backing. Limerick were expertly schooled in the skills of the game, but they were psychologically obdurate, too. Caroline Currid is an important feature here. Sunday brought her fourth involvement as performance psychologist with an All-Ireland winning team. Her first was with Tyrone in 2008, then the Tipperary hurlers in 2010, followed by the Dublin footballers in their break-out season under Pat Gilroy in 2011. Paul O’Connell praised her richly in his autobiography for the effect she had on his career, and she is also said to have worked with David Rudisha, the world’s best 800m runner.
Currid is a proven support to champions, as Declan Hannon noted from the steps of the Hogan Stand.
‘She has always been there for us, always there to keep us up and pick us up when we are down,’ he said.
One of the more tiresome tropes in the noisy world of GAA analysis is the voluble sceptic. A particular target for this school is the sports psychologist, dismissed by their critics as one of the more unfortunate aspects of modern team preparation.
Currid’s history of success is a refutation of this mindless nonsense all on its own. The Limerick hurlers would have been viewed from outside as every bit as skittish as the Tipperary hurlers of 2010 or the Dublin footballers of 2011, recidivist failures who shrank when in the vicinity of success.
Her input in helping these teams combat their hang-ups was significant.
Kiely’s role was the most important of all. As he said, he saw up close the collapse of 1994. He was there again two years later when Limerick were ground down by Wexford. He was a witness to the sheer, wrenching difficulty of winning an All-Ireland.
The talent but also the resilience needed to actually win the damn thing is often overlooked.
We show up on final day and know that come the final whistle, someone will be celebrating and someone will be devastated.
What separates those two fates is at the same time momentous and miniscule: had Joe Canning landed that 95-metre free, then a replay would probably have been needed. So Galway were that close.
But they were also miles away because Limerick dealt so certainly with that last dropping ball, they would let nothing ruin their time.
They were nine points up at one stage in the second half, and they were emphatically the better team overall.
A young side dealt with the enormity of the occasion, with the expectation of their marvellous people, and with all those tribal neuroses, thanks to their manager.
Limerick’s was a triumph for all their people. But it was also a victory for the best modern methods, for firm, decisive management, and for the exuberant ambition of youth.
The day will shimmer in memory for generations.
The Five-Minute nightmare has vanished, replaced by the sweetest dream.
The talent but also the resilience needed to actually win the damn thing is often overlooked