Ones that got away
Rub of the green deserted Wexford
ALAN KENNEDY, the former Liverpool great, tells a story about the excitement of joining Bob Paisley’s outfit back in 1978.
Liverpool had a wonderful reputation for meticulous preparation and tactical nous and, as he sat in the dressing-room before his debut game, he was awaiting detailed instruction on how to play which did not seem to be forthcoming.
Just as he left the dressing-room, he asked the manager was there any particular way he wanted him to play, to which he received the bemused reply: ‘If the opposition has the ball, get it back and give it to someone in a red shirt’.
The first 45 minutes turned out to be a horror show for the left back and, as he prepared to depart the changing area for the second period, he again went to Paisley for instruction, to be told: ‘Do what you want but, as far as I’m concerned after that first-half, they shot the wrong Kennedy’.
Reflecting on my own time hurling with the purple and gold, there is no doubt that back 30-odd years ago tactics and preparation were at a much simpler level, and times have changed hugely in relation to psychological presentation.
I began thinking back over the last 40 years or so and, in doing so, can better empathise with the frustration of our supporters in that our success does not reflect our talent over the years.
Having thought about some of the games lost, I am sure the best supporters in the country would be very much in the same frame of mind as Bob Paisley in that half-time interaction with his new signing.
Winning can be a habit and losing most definitely is, and our habit was created in particular in the 1980s due to a certain amount of bad luck, some poor officiating decisions, and maybe most importantly a lack of real belief.
I decided to compile five of my greatest disappointments but, sadly, when thinking back I came up with many more games.
Certainly, a few more columns could be written about the Monday morning feeling of that anchor-like lump in your stomach, having yet again come out on the wrong side of a thriller.
I have numerous games that I could include prior to 1993, and here is a few to stir the memory.
Wexford had reached the All-Ireland Minor final of 1980, and I was so fortunate to be included as an Under-16 to play in the Leinster final of 1981 with what was, for me, one of the best under-age teams to come out of the county.
From the year before we had retained the likes of Paul Gahan, Eamon Cleary, John Grannell, Liam Turner, John O’Connor, John ‘Urney’ Byrne, Ted Morrissey and Rathnure’s John Codd who was accepted as probably the best Minor hurler in the country. We were everyone’s favourites for that year’s title.
John Codd left the field injured and I spent about 30 minutes of the game off-field due to the need for stitches, but we still looked pretty comfortable coming into the dying stages, three points up when we were dealt a crushing blow.
A line ball was signalled the wrong way (and that is a fact), and the ball ended up in our net and we eventually lost by a point.
Kilkenny, led by now St. Martin’s man Mick Morrissey, romped to ultimate honours after and, although it was my first day between the big sheds, it was an incredible disappointment in a game that I can safely say was determined by bad luck.
Next up was a replayed All-Ireland Colleges final against St. Flannan’s in 1982 in which we became the first Peter’s team not to win at the second attempt.
In this instance I feel lack of belief was the main contributor, particularly in the first game which we should have won comfortably.
Those two under-age games can be very formative in the mind as a county that are the gallant runners-up, but sadly this can set a trend.
On the club scene, we lost a Leinster (and possibly an All-Ireland) having led St. Rynagh’s of Offaly by seven entering the last quarter in the ‘82 final, but the greatest disappointment of all was the 1986 decider in Croke Park to the Tipp champs, Kilruane McDonagh’s, on a day when the term ‘blew it’ comes to mind.
I can safely say that I have never known a feeling since that came close to the desolation after that final whistle in a game in which the late Barry Murphy gave a man of the match performance.
For me, when that game comes into mind it is very important to re-focus on to the one that we did win [in 1989].
Fast forward to D.J. and his twelve steps when championship was knockout in 1991, and then the real opportunity came on the double in 1993.
First the league final and those memorable three days in Thurles where really we had chances every day, and then to be four up to the Cats in what I believe was the best game of hurling I was ever involved in, only to see them comfortably secure Liam later on that year.
I had checked with referee Aodán Mac Suibhne when Fitzy was taking the last puckout, and he told me we were two minutes 30 seconds into the injury time of three minutes, and the rest is history.
As captain, I will always be 30 seconds away from lifting Bob, and most probably the greatest prize in hurling also.
But sure, it could be worse.
I will not go any further this week, but just to say that maybe Liam Griffin’s biggest addition to our armoury was the introduction of ‘preparing the mind’.
Still, it must be acknowledged that we didn’t have much favour with the rub of the green on many occasions.
Tough days but, as I said at the beginning, we have had many wonderful days as well and, whether winning or losing, there is no sight, feeling or atmosphere better than when the purple and gold army comes to town.
We have had our victories and obvious regrets, but the enjoyment hurling has given to Wexford, and its people has given to hurling, is beyond compare.
We are a little unpredictable but I would venture to bet that if a poll was taken around the country, we would be the people’s favourite and we should never forget (me included) that sport should not be about the winning and losing but about the enjoyment.
If that is the case, the yellowbellies are champions every year.
Keep well and stay safe out there, and hopefully we can look forward to being back on the Wexford rollercoaster some time in the future.