LIMERICK NEED TO LOOSEN UP AND ENJOY THE RIDE

It might pay to be cautious, but there has to be some joy in the build up to an All-Ireland final

IT WILL always be a source of regret to have been absent last Sunday. Bad enough to have missed the game – the second for the ages inside 24 hours – but also the after party. Limerick, after the game of their lives, and our’s, had just reached their second All-Ireland final in 22 years which, you might think, would invite a little bit of giddiness into the post-match press room.

Not likely. John Kiely, who has overseen the most remarkable of transitions over the past two years, did not high-five his way into the post-match press conference while declaring himself to be The Special One, nor was he expected to.

Mind you, if the child inside him was screaming to do just that, who would have blamed him?

At the start of this decade, Limerick were hurling’s ultimate basket case.

It was at the exact same juncture – an All-Ireland semi-final – when it plumbed depths previously thought to have been impossible even for a county who changed managers as often as nappies.

Indeed, frequency of change was not the only reason why that metaphor stands up – someone always had to do the wiping up and, more often than not, it was the unfortunate wearing the bib.

Kiely is Limerick 11th manager in 18 years and number six on that list was Justin McCarthy who walked into the same Croke Park post semi-final press conference in 2009 after his team were mauled by 24 points.

He would never walk in there again. The fall-out was a players’ strike the following season. It sent Limerick through a trap-door and they only just clambered back up. On Kiely’s watch, they return to top-tier Allianz League hurling next year for the first time since their inevitable relegation under the doomed McCarthy in 2010.

Perhaps, the legacy of McCarthy, and of all those who preceded and succeeded him, extends far beyond a wipe-out season. Maybe it extends to the belief that if there is way to foul things up, Limerick will find one.

And if that happens, well nappies come cheap in this disposable world.

That may explain why Kiely, on entering the press room last Sunday, insisted on making a stand before fielding any questions on his side’s stunning success.

Kiely wagged his finger at the congregated press, advising them that he would ‘bring the whole thing down’ – in terms of facilitating a pre-final media event – if there was any effort to make contact with players outside of official channels.

For the record, the last time a journalist rang a player unannounced before an All-Ireland final was when you still had to be connected by an operator.

And please do not confuse this with preciousness on our side of the house, because it smacked of pressure from the other.

It appeared to be a forlorn attempt to catch the wind, to manage something which can’t be managed – the hype.

Nor should it be. For pity’s sake, in a management world obsessed by controlling the controllables, the day public delirium can be controlled is the day we will all be goose-stepping to show our respect for Kim JungLeo.

And to think that the GAA media will be the conduit of the public feeding frenzy, that could derail this Limerick team, is beyond fanciful.

But hype has a terrible name in the GAA. In other sports, hype is king. It sells, it puts bums on seats, either in stadia or on couches, it adds to the brand, to the occasion.

Others see hype knocking on the door, they bring it inside for a cuppa so it can gets its feet under the table.

It knocks on GAA doors and is hunted back down the path faster than a bunch of bible-clutching Mormons. No good can come from it. Hype never won an All-Ireland but it lost plenty of them.

And, no, it is not just wide-eyed innocents like Limerick who have been buttered up, chewed up and then spat out by the hype machine

Even the cutest of them all were muddled by the damn thing.

On yeah, there are folk out there who will tell you that it was a premature celebration dance advertised pre match in The Kerryman, a dodgy record and those printed five-in-arow tee-shirts that did for Kerry in 1982.

Never mind a fine Offaly team playing the game of their lives, Martin Furlong’s penalty save, a couple of dodgy frees awarded by PJ McGrath, or that goal… nah, most like the tee-

It’s an attempt to manage what just can’t be managed - hype

shirts is what did it in the end.

It is probably unfair to make the comparison with Kilkenny, but Brian Cody’s tactics on these occasions are worth observing.

He spent most of the year ignoring the media but come the All-Ireland final, he served up us with prime cuts of Langton’s finest steaks at the annual press night before rolling out his players to feed us chips.

True, comparing pre-final hype in Kilkenny to what will be happening in Limerick over the next couple of weeks is a bit like saddling a Honda 50 in the Isle of Man TT.

You will get around the track eventually. but no one will really notice.

However, others have stared down the hype and not blinked. Jim McGuinness’ team hardly lacked focus in 2012 even though they were Las Vegas residents in the Hills of Donegal.

Their public went mad, the team held a well-attended pre-final media event and never once was their bubble punctured.

The funds were found so that the team could spend as much time away from the madness ensuring focus was never an issue, but not so isolated that they faced the threat of suffocation.

Limerick will not lack for the financial goodwill, not least privately, to ensure they are furnished with the time and space to focus on what is important.

But they should not be fearful every now and again of feeling the joy they have created. They deserve to enjoy it a little. The rest of us will.

The last time a reporter rang a player was when you were connected by the operator