KING KIELY
The legacy of Limerick’s brilliant All-Ireland win is one of hope for the future
IF I had a cent for every time I was asked this week if it was like 1994 all over again, I would have a new herd of prize bullocks in the top field.
That game was referenced time and again in the aftermath of last Sunday as Galway came hurtling down the home straight just as Offaly did to Limerick — and at my expense — all those years ago.
Hand on heart, sitting in the lower deck of the Hogan Stand last Sunday, it never once crossed my mind.
I was absolutely convinced, even when it came down to a single point, that Limerick would see it out.
‘I was a sea of calm amidst a storm of emotion,’ I explained to a friend of mine afterwards.
‘Maybe you were too bloody calm in 1994, too,’ he fired right back with both barrels.
Maybe I deserved that, but my blessing is a thick skin and, especially when it comes to hurling, a capacity for emotional detachment.
My calmness last Sunday was rooted in hurling sense.
On the Thursday prior to the final I participated on an ‘Up For The Final’ forum organised by the Kildimo-Pallaskenry club, along with ex-county hurlers Mark Foley of Limerick, Clare’s Pat Donnellan and Tipperary’s Shane McGrath.
The first question that was pitched my way held the key to the outcome — how could Limerick counteract the threat of Johnny Glynn?
The answer lay in cutting off the supply, which required Limerick putting in the kind of effort that would simply swamp Galway in the middle third.
Now the answer was easier than the execution, but that is exactly what Limerick did.
While all the talk afterwards was about those helter–skelter final 10 minutes, the key to the game was to be found in the opening 10 minutes.
Limerick stifled Galway and after that Micheál Donoghue’s team was gulping for air to the point that, with the exception of Joe Canning, any of the other five forwards could have been benched.
And when one team dominates the other to that extent, it provides the kind of overwhelming evidence on which I leant for tranquillity in those final minutes.
You don’t always get what you deserve in life or in sport, but generally speaking, you usually get out of both what you put in.
Sunday was one of those beautiful and unusual days.
And now that it is done we are left with the aftermath. FOR those who like to party, this has been Christmas, St Patrick’s Day, a two-day wedding and a three-day funeral all rolled in to one.
It is madness and I won’t lie, it is not my way, but the trade-off for the binge drinking festival is that what happened last Sunday made passionate Limerick hurling men who never touched the devil’s buttermilk drunk for life and I am happy about that.
Me? Look, I was never traumatised by what happened in 1994 or 1996 and I was back on the farm the following day, just like I was last Monday. That does not mean I did not feel the joy, but more than anything what I feel is the hope.
I am doing my best here to ice my contrariness. However, if I have one gripe, it has been the contrived effort by some to take ownership of this success.
Let’s be clear; this success is down to a remarkable and talented group of players who have revealed themselves to be exceptional role models, not just because they are winners but because of how they have embraced winning.
They have felt no need to publicly drink in their success in front of young, impressionable supporters and I think that speaks volumes for their respect for the jersey they wear. Look, I have no doubt they have done so in their own company — and well they are entitled to — but I can’t tell you how many people were impressed with how soberly and respectfully they presented themselves last Monday evening. That also speaks volumes for the respect they have for John Kiely, who has, along with his management team, done a magnificent job.
He was part of my squad back in the 1990s and people have been asking me if I could see the manager in him then. Of course I didn’t. The leadership skills he possesses are something which he has developed with experience and he has done his county some service. The victory belongs to him and his players.
It also belongs to the hard core supporters and when I talk-about those, I am not referencing fans who donned green wigs, pimped up their cars in the county colours or drank their weight in vats of beer.
That is easily peddled as passion, but anyone who saw how this city jumped on Munster’s rugby success will know that celebrating has never been our challenge.
Supporting is a whole different thing because support makes things happen, rather than making a song and a dance out of it when it does.
And the list of bandwagon jumpers extends beyond those who are in it for the party.
All the talk is that this success was delivered on the back of a development plan, and by the strength of the county board’s academy system.
But that, of course, is putting the cart before the horse. THE academy system is picking up elite players, not developing them — that is still being done on the ground by volunteers.
These people are out every weekend teaching kids the basics, ensuring they make that first step.
Those are the selfless, faceless and nameless people who deserve to bask in this moment of glory. Those are the true supporters of Limerick hurling and they will still be there when the sun goes back behind a cloud some day soon.
That may be stating the obvious, but there are times when we can’t see the truth in front of us.
Limerick city is a hurling wasteland — outside of the Na Piarsaigh contingent, Gearóid Hegarty was the only other player from a citybased club on this team.
And Na Piarsaigh are only the power that they are because of the work — started long before there was a development plan and an academy system — that has been invested over the past 20 years.
The promotional value of what this team has achieved is off the scale and hopefully the legacy of this success will see our game take root again in the city.
If that happens, I will do a little jig myself.
Homecomings are fine and dandy, but keeping the fires lit at home is the sweetest feeling of all.
The contrived effort by some to take ownership of this success is annoying