The day Páidí stripped in Clerys just to make his daughter laugh
EXCLUSIVE EXTRACTS FROM OFFICIAL BIOGRAPHY
NO ONE is quite sure of the origin of the special OBE attached to the Westmeath manager in the mid-spring period in 2004. It was the sort of pun he himself would have enjoyed in other circumstances.
There is a school of thought that it all began in Kerry as Westmeath’s campaign in the National Football League during the months of February and March stuttered along.
Some folk in the county were clearly following his unlikely sojourn in the midlands with a sense of mirth, if not malice.
But the months passed. Summer arrived. It was May 23 and Páidí was coming back. The Garda outriders, sirens blaring, cleared the traffic through Fairview on Dublin’s Northside as they escorted the Westmeath team bus towards Croke Park, gleaming in its makeover.
Tomás Ó Flatharta sat at the front of the bus with Páidí. His friend was like a kid going to Croke Park for the first time, straining to catch a glimpse of the stand for the first time, pointing to knots of supporters drifting towards Clonliffe Road or standing outside various hostelries gaining sustenance for the day. They waved their flags as the bus went by. Páidí waved back. ‘How are you feeling, Tomás?’ he asked. ‘Are you nervous?’ ‘Nah … I’m alright,’ came the reply. ‘Jesus Christ, do you ever get f****** excited about anything?’ came an exasperated retort.
And as the players and their management disembarked within the stadium, Páidí turned to his aide and whispered, ‘You know … I love this place. I have always loved it. I’m happy every time I come here, even if I am only here to pick up a ticket.’
Páidí also felt the pressure that day. After the drama of his appointment, the almost soap opera-like fascination with Westmeath because of his position as manager, the time had come to deliver. There had been a lot of talk about two-year plans but he knew, deep down, that all plans would be revised if West-
He was consumed with winning, he had
unbreakable belief
meath did not beat Offaly.
They hadn’t done it for 55 years in the Championship. He forcefully reminded the players of that. ‘You have the chance to create a bit of history. Don’t waste it. Remember the 55 years of hurt every time you’re going for that ball. Let no Offaly man stand in your way today. Be the boss.’
They led by four points at half time, 0-7 to 03, having played with the wind advantage. Rory O’Connell was sent off 11 minutes after the restart after an off-the-ball incident. Páidí didn’t panic.
No one did. They kept to the script — steely tough, close marking, pride. At the end there was just a point between them.
Westmeath 0-11, Offaly 0-10. Dublin were next.
Páidí had no difficulty talking about the Dubs.
‘The Dubs are among the counties who are thinking of the fourth Sunday in September. That’s the level we have to move up to.’
The Dubs. June 6. Half-time. Dublin 0-9, Westmeath 0-6.
In the dressing room on the Cusack Stand side of the ground, Páidí grabs one of the dozens of towels soaking in ice. He looks around for a player; grabs one. Russell Casey. Starts towelling. Hands are working furiously. ‘F****** outstanding. You’re having a blinder. Just keep it going. One more half … just one more…’ Tomás interrupts. ‘What … what?’ Páidí growls. ‘Russell’s not playing.’ ‘Oh.’ Sheepishly, Páidí moves on.
For two weeks Páidí had been talking non-stop about the Dubs.
‘Imagine what they’re saying up there,’ he would tell his players. ‘Laughing at us. Boggers … still living in caves, they think. No respect for us at all.
‘Smart men the Dubs. Know it all. What are ye going to do about it?’
They went back to Croker without Rory O’Connell, who was suspended; Martin Flanagan was still injured. Those would have been mortal blows in the past. Páidí would not let them dwell on it. ‘Deal with it,’ he said Now the players were feeling the heat of battle. This was new territory. In with the big boys. 60,000 people in Croke Park. Alan Brogan and Jason Sherlock were tormenting them. Superstars. Six points scored between them in 16 minutes.
‘Closer … stay closer,’ roared Páidí from the sideline.
He paced up and down the sideline, face lined in thought. He hopped and skipped, watched every ball kicked. He looked like a bundle of nervous energy. But when he came back to his selectors on the sideline they were struck by just how calm he was. He listened to their views, made a few comments of his own. Their fears abated. Páidí had relaxed them! Changes were needed. There was no rushing around or scrambling. Instructions were quiet and measured. David Kilmartin was summoned to replace James Davitt. John Keane was switched to police Brogan. Damien Healy went back to mark Sherlock. The defensive unit became tighter.
A couple of minutes before half time the three selectors and the manager stood together again. Gary Dolan and David O’Shaughnessy were playing well at midfield but the Dublin pairing of Ciarán Whelan and Darren Homan were physically very powerful and were wearing them down. Westmeath needed to do something to help their players.
Páidí looked to his substitutes; his eyes fastened on the frame that carries David Mitchell. Big man. Strong in training all the time. Good full-back.
‘I know what we’ll do,’ said Páidí . ‘Get Mitchell down here.’
Tomás, Paddy [Collins] and Jack [Cooney] were surprised. Mitchell had never played around the middle of the field before. But they quickly realised what Páidí was thinking. In the heat of battle he was the calmest man in Croke Park.
His advice to the player was simple — don’t be afraid to throw your weight around. At the break there was no panic. Páidí’s gaffe with the towel actually lightened the mood.
At the start of the second half, Mitchell had become a nuisance to Dublin. Ciarán Whelan didn’t appreciate the newcomer’s presence and dumped him. The referee, Michael Collins from Cork, waved a yellow card.
Mitchell was furious. He jumped up and shook off the effects of the blow. The free was taken. Mitchell got possession and booted the ball straight over the bar.
Gary Connaughton made a matchwinning save from Sherlock when the teams were level towards the end of normal time, 0-12 each. Joe Fallon, introduced in injury time, scored a point and then Paul Conway added another of real quality, fetching the ball high within a thicket of players, turning and calmly sidefooting the ball over the bar.
Westmeath 0-14, Dublin 0-12. As the Dublin players and their manager, Tommy Lyons, left the field under a barrage of abuse from angry supporters, Páidí was met by a Dublin fan.
‘Jaysus, Páidí … why did you come back to haunt us?’
Yes, Páidí loved the Dubs.
Dessie Dolan is unequivocal to this day in his belief. ‘Páidí Ó Sé’s greatest achievement in football management was winning a Leinster title with Westmeath.’
Almost a decade on, he speaks with deep passion about what the people of Westmeath have dubbed ‘Redemption Day’ — Saturday, July 24, when they won the Leinster senior football Championship for the first time.
‘He was consumed with winning. His belief was unbreakable,’ states Dolan.
In the documentary Marooned, which captures the eventful summer of 2004, there is a scene that articulates better than anything the Páidí effect on Westmeath.
The squad stand in an oval shape
on the side of a field. The youthful faces are serious; some of them look concerned. The manager is standing in a small space amongst them, constantly moving and gesticulating with his hands
‘We’re going well lads … but lads, bring the bit of f****** devilment into ye’re play the next day … the devilment, the tightness … the … the rough and tumble stuff out in the middle of the field … the f****** breaking ball.
‘A grain of rice is going to tip the scale. Just remember that lads … a grain of rice to tip the scale … but you will have to get steely tough upstairs and you must be willing to f****** break your gut.’
He then turned towards Alan Mangan. ‘You were f****** over the line twice … f****** over the line like you catch a f******* loaf of bread and f****** you over the line with a shoulder. And what that does is it lifts the opposition.
‘We don’t want to see no Westmeath man f****** about.
‘Is that clear now Alan … no more. We’ll have to crash into these fellas and test out their pulse because I’m telling ye lads these fellas will play good football if they’re allowed.
‘Give me one f****** guarantee each and every one of you … that you’re going to be tighter, that ye’re going to be more disciplined … that ye’re going to be more tigerish and that ye’re going to take the game to these fellas … that these fellas will get such a f****** shellshock next Saturday evening … that we’ll put them back on their f****** arses for f****** ten years. ‘Alright lads.’ Mangan was Westmeath’s top scorer in the Leinster final replay victory over Mick O’Dwyer’s Laois, kicking four points from play.
In the replay the Westmeath players were more disciplined, were tigerish and they did win the breaking ball. The led by 0-7 to 0-5 at half time; they exploded into action at the start of the second half and added five points in 15 minutes.
They didn’t score for the last 20 minutes but they didn’t need to. They had done enough. Champions for the first time in their history.
Westmeath 0-12, Laois 0-10.