No substitute for what’s learned in championship tie

IHAD a chuckle to myself when belatedly reading a recent piece by Neil Francis in the ‘Sunday Independent’ during the week. In a feature on an Ireland rugby tour of Argentina and Chile in 1952, he wrote it was ‘back in the day subs only got on if one of the players had his head hanging off’.

The timing was apt, because at the end of last week’s column I promised to elaborate on my surprise at the absence of any troops arriving off the bench during Wexford’s surrender of their Leinster Minor hurling title to Kilkenny five days before Christmas.

Francis focused on a completely different era, but the same ethos applied to substitutes in the GAA world at the time.

There was almost a stigma attached to a player being taken off in a match, as if it was a sign of some abject failure on his part.

I’ve been repeatedly told that if someone was having a real stinker, and needed to be removed from the fray, an instruction would be whispered discreetly in his ear, either by a mentor or a senior player. ‘Go down, so we can take you off.’

With that, the player would feign injury, limp gingerly off the field, and save a little bit of face in the process.

Thankfully, the GAA moved away from that custom a long, long time ago. We’ve gone from permitting three substitutes to allowing five, and nowadays there’s even a new terminology deployed.

More and more we hear managers talking about their ‘finishers’, players they hold in reserve until the last quarter when their freshness and energy can bury the tiring opposition.

Now let’s re-cap on the events in Chadwicks Wexford Park on Sunday, December 20.

A wind-aided home team played quite well for the most part in the first-half to lead Kilkenny by 0-12 to 0-6 at the break, although the fear remained that a haul of ten wides might come back to haunt them.

While there was general satisfaction at the interval, I overheard a remark made in the press box by Billy Byrne that summed up the situation perfectly.

‘Remember lads, it is Kilkenny we’re playing,’ he said, the shrewd words of a man with years of bitter experience to call upon from his personal dealings with our arch-rivals.

Is it any wonder he celebrated with such gusto in front of the Hill after kicking that famous goal to finally bury them in the Leinster final of 1997?

Anyway, hopes of a win for our Minors intensified when Luke Murphy’s 36th-minute goal stretched their lead to 1-12 to 0-8.

The lack of a decisive reaction to what followed - to be specific, zero changes in personnel - completely baffled me if I’m honest.

With our puck-outs hanging in the wind, Kilkenny attacked them with relish and took over completely in the middle third of the field.

In a relatively short spell, Wexford were completely over-run in an area they had thrived in for the 20 minutes before half-time.

The facts don’t lie: from midway through the third quarter onwards, Kilkenny outscored us by a whopping 0-15 to 0-2, winning in the end by 0-23 to 1-14. Quite amazingly, Wexford didn’t introduce even one new face. I guess we should be happy that none of the starting 15 sustained an injury, because nobody wants to see that, but to refer to that Neil Francis quote once more, it was like 1952 all over again.

I have nothing but respect for Wexford’s two main mentors, Aidan O’Connor and Paul Carley. Both have done more to promote hurling than I ever will, and they were successful club bosses in 2020 with Gusserane O’Rahillys and Bray Emmets respectively.

However, they were joint Minor managers, and I wonder if that’s necessarily a good thing... is it not better to have one person ultimately in charge, making the tough calls?

A large panel of Minors, significantly higher in number than 15, started training more than one year before in readiness for this match.

We all agree that the main goal at this age group should be to develop as many players as possible. And, with all due respect for what happens on the training ground in Ferns night after night, a young lad would learn considerably more in even ten minutes of a tough championship game. At any rate, we clearly needed fresh blood.

Leaving every substitute idle in the stand sent out the wrong message, and I hope it’s never repeated.