Waterford FTW!

Kilkenny beat us in the Senior.
Galway beat us in the Minor.
Clare beat us in the Under-21.

Spot the pattern? Our day will come . . .

(PS yeah, I know Clare beat us in the Minor and Tipperary beat us in the Senior too. Don’t wreck me buzz.)

It could have been worse

7 August 2005. The second Ashes test is reaching its climax. Australia have made an improbable 103 runs from the eighth and ninth wickets to go only two runs short of victory, one that would have left them 2-0 up with three to play in the series. Steve Harmison bowls an unplayable ball that hits Michael Kasprowicz on the glove and loops into the grateful hands of wicketkeeper Geraint Jones. Up goes Billy Bowden’s finger and Edgbaston erupts. England have won the most nailbiting of test matches. I must confess to shrieking like the Bibe. Sporting victories are rarely so satisfying – or defeat so sickening.

Half an hour later, Channel 4’s Simon Hughes threatened to put a damper on things. As the ball speared up towards his face, Kasprowicz had taken his glove off the bat. In a nutshell, he wasn’t out. Bowden, the archetypal lookatmelookatmelookatme official, had gotten it wrong. Yet there were few (if any) complaints from the Australians. It had looked out, to the point that even Kasprowicz didn’t quibble. Anyone else in Bowden’s position would have been justified in lifting the finger.

That incident came to mind after last Sunday’s tremendous All-Ireland final. On the face of it, the match turned on a decision by referee Diarmuid Kirwan, awarding that penalty to Kilkenny. Could Kirwan use the defence that I’ve described above for Bowden? You’ll have the usual hysterical Cats saying it was a penalty, but when you break it down this doesn’t stand up to scrutiny. You could argue that Richie Power was being fouled and the ref was playing advantage until he stepped into the penalty area, but just because you are being fouled doesn’t allow you to foul the ball by taking nine to ten steps. We need refs to have the cojones to give big decisions, but come on Mr Kirwan, there was a perfectly reasonable halfway house – give the free back where the original offence took place. Kilkenny fans may argue Henry Shefflin would have rattled it home anyway, but given his lame effort against us in the semi-final I’m not convinced Shefflin is that kind of deadball goal scorer in the manner of Paul Flynn or DJ Carey, and there would have been extra bodies on the line. It wasn’t a great decision, one made all the worse by the presence of an admittedly cowardly alternative.

For all of that, Kirwan got one big decision right, one that for me had a more decisive bearing on the game: the sending off of Benny Dunne. It might seem odd to label this a good decision seeing as it was so obviously a red card offence but referees seem reluctant to send players off in All-Ireland finals – Eamonn Scallan in 1996 is the only other example of it in the last fifty years – probably for fear of being accused afterwards of ‘ruining the game’. You only have to look at the way Terje Hauge ended up questioning his correct decision to send off Jens Lehmann in the 2006 European Cup final to see how pressure to keep the contest in a final can influence a ref. Credit to Diarmuid Kirwan then for doing the right thing, and it would prove decisive. In a tight, high octane match played in energy-sapping conditions, it’s hard to see how Tipp could have kept Kilkenny at bay for the full 70 while a man down. The penalty definitely helped, but ultimately that wild pull would prove to be Tipp’s undoing.

And what an undoing. Can you imagine if it had been Waterford in that position? Never mind stewards to prevent a pitch invasion, they would have needed a cordon to prevent people flinging themselves from the upper tiers of the stands. Tipperary people might have been slightly more mellow than us, seeing as they can be confident of another few cracks in the near future whereas we always feel we have to take our chances when they come. But the manner of the defeat was as hurtful as it gets. My wife routinely rails against the frightening intensity of the hurling championship, how whole seasons can be destroyed in a whirlwind of ash. Neutrals justifiably are thrilled by it, and it does make victory all the sweeter. But it’s scary how we as supporters put so much of our sense of wellbeing into something so capricious, so completely beyond our control. Better to lose by 23 points and be done with it than endure what Tipp fans went through last Sunday.

The politics of envy

It’s that time of year again – deciding who we would least hate to see winning the Liam McCarthy Cup. For years, it was a simple task to parse my desires regarding the destination of the All-Ireland. Waterford would go out with barely a whimper, so allegiances would swiftly switch to Cork. After that would come the Munster champions, which would usually mean Tipperary – at this stage Tipp would have been the famine-struck losers rather than the Hell’s Kitchen ogres of yore, so it was easy to run up the Munster flag of convenience. Then it would be anyone but Galway.

Simpler times, because then Waterford became competitive which complicated the overall All-Ireland picture. This would be best illustrated by the crushing nature of the defeat to Clare in 1998 which meant that it would be anyone but the Banner boyz for the best part of a decade – I’m happy to report that my gut reaction to being told of their victory in the Under-21 semi-final was one of delight – and each year would present a new set of slights with which to get wound up. This was best illustrated in 2007, when we had the first Come on the Déise edition of this annual game. Despite not feeling any inherent animosity towards Limerick, and no resentment at the manner in which they scuppered our own All-Ireland dreams, I still couldn’t bring myself to root for David over Goliath.

Last year saw a hiatus in this particular routine but it’s back for 2009, and the question is: Kilkenny or Tipperary? The unique selling point of last year’s final was Waterford’s presence in it. This year it’s Kilkenny’s quest for four All-Ireland’s in a row, the first time since Cork in 1944 that a team in the final are chasing that target. On balance, I’d rather see this happen than not happen. While having one team dominate a sport is generally seen as being malign, there is some logic to the school of thought that revels in the presence of excellence. Plenty of people root for Tiger Woods and Roger Federer. In addition, to see Kilkenny crush all before them would make Waterford’s shortcomings in recent years feel less acute – we would all be labouring under the burden of toppling a team that, with Cork having not won Munster in 1941,  could objectively claim to be the best of all time.

Then there’s Tipperary fans, or more specifically the yahoos who drunkenly accosted me after this year’s Munster final to slobber their appreciation that we had shown up but yerra what chance could ye have being from Waterford. The famine years may have put manners on Tipperary fans at the time but the sense of entitlement didn’t take long in reasserting itself. Perhaps one shouldn’t be too hard on an entire county based on the behaviour of a couple of morons – they were magnificence itself when we won the Munster title in 2002 – but when looking for reasons to split the difference between the two on Sunday, I can think of worse reasons than having that pair being brought down a peg or three.

Still, having put forward the contrary argument the time has come to admit to wanting Tipp to win on Sunday, and this is why: the need to puncture Kilkenny’s veneer of invincibility. When Cork were chasing three-in-a-row in 2006, it seemed nothing could knock them out of their stride. Roy Keane had the chutzpah to encourage them to think of five-in-a-row, the kind of talk that if uttered by the likes of Mick McCarthy would be ridiculed by Roy’s acolytes as being presumptuous. But they were knocked out of their stride, and to an extent that they haven’t been able to summon up the rage for another proper tilt at the title since. If Kilkenny win on Sunday, you can be sure all and sundry will be back in training at the first opportunity to try for something that no senior team has ever accomplished in either hurling or football. If they lose, more than a few people will lose the will to try and rebuild the x-in-a-row house again from scratch.  It might be too much to ask for Brian Cody to be one of those people, but you can always hope.

And it is with that hope in my heart that I will be cheering for Tipperary on Sunday.

Bonus time

Winning the Munster minor title may not seem like much, and no one is under any illusions that a Minor title is comparable to a Senior one (and no, I haven’t come up with a coherent use of the initial capital when it comes to words like Minor, senior or Championship. We just go with what looks right at the time). With that caveat, let’s blithely assume just that.

Before Outraged of Knocknagoshel emails, this is obviously only in hurling.

It makes for grim reading, and if you were under any illusions as to why winning the Munster Under-21 title meant so much to Clare, this should disabuse those notions. Winning the Munster minor title makes this year a successful one for Waterford hurling. Winning the All-Ireland would be a splendid bonus.

Update: not to be then for the Minors, beaten today by Galway. 2-22 is an incredible score and nothing to be ashamed of. Occasionally I do wonder whether my relentless que sera sera attitude is more damaging than it is healthy, whether it is indicative of a mindset in Waterford hurling which militates against pushing on from a position of relative comfort. Something for another day though. Hard luck to all concerned.

Waterford 3-15 (24) Kilkenny 2-23 (29)

As the dust has settled in the days following another exciting game involving the Waterford hurlers, I’ve been forced to ask myself whether I am sticking my head in the sand by being relatively pleased with how things turned out. Plenty of people on the intrawebs who are not habitually given to ridiculing Waterford were quite dismissive of our efforts, feeling that Kilkenny had plenty left in the tank and that some criminal wides and bad choices had left the Déise boys failing to fulfil their potential. Was it delusional to be so content after yet another defeat in Croke Park?

The first point to be made in what is going to be an extensive defence of Waterford’s performance is the usual fatalist one – it could have been worse. Not only was the 23-point drubbing last September hanging over the game like the sword of Damocles, there was also the small matter of the curtain raiser. As we walked along the Royal Canal we heard a roar from the ground and the chant of “May-o! May-o!” went up. Things were clearly going well for the county that I habitually use as a lesson in not getting your hopes up. We reached our seats in the Upper Hogan just in time to see Meath equalise and then watched with resignation as they rattled off five points to put the match beyond Mayo.

If expectations weren’t high before this, now they were lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut. But that’s not low enough as an adequate defence mechanism, so it was time to dwell on my wretched record in Headquarters. I hadn’t seen Waterford win there since 1998 against Galway. In the meantime we’d contrived to lose to Kilkenny, Clare, Cork, Cork again and Kilkenny again. The best I could show was a draw with Cork in 2007. Before these thoughts were so overwhelming that you’d feel like ending it all off that convenient drop a few rows ahead, the only other time I’d been in the Hogan Stand had been for that Galway game. Onwards and upwards, eh? Eh?!

Still, every game starts at 0-0 to 0-0 and if everything went Waterford’s way they’d have a chance. And I’m going to state in advance that lots of things went Waterford’s way. They got off the mark with a great score, Shane O’Sullivan curling a delightful sideline cut over the bar. Kilkenny were soon in front but Waterford then got another break, Shane Walsh having the simple task of batting the ball past PJ Ryan after a mazy dribble from Kevin Moran. The goal was a huge boost for Waterford on many levels. Quite apart from the three points – always handy – it showed that we could score goals and provided a swing in momentum towards us at an early stage. When you consider how the match last year was already slipping away from us in the first ten minutes, it was important to put manners on Kilkenny.

Speaking of putting manners on people, I had been pretty polite in the opening exchanges and would remain quite mellow throughout – with one noteworthy exception. Waterford were competing brilliantly in the breakdown and Kilkenny had even hit a wide or two before they got their first chance to really flex their considerable muscles, Henry Shefflin combining expertly with Eddie Brennan to put the latter clear and bat the ball past Clinton Hennessy. So the Cats were already in front when Eoin Murphy deliberately hauled down Brennan as he powered towards the goal. The free was a long way out and Shefflin is no Paul Flynn or DJ Carey so the logical thing to do would have been to pop the ball over the bar. It’s impossible to know exactly what was going through his head as he teed up the free, but for some reason I got it in to my head that he was fuming at Waterford’s brazenness in Murphy’s ‘professional’ foul and he decided to inflict maximum damage for the insult. Duly he went for goal and a poor effort it was too, easily saved by Hennessy. By the time Kilkenny’s follow-up had drifted wide – another improvement from last year, Kilkenny now had at least two wides – I was foaming at the mouth at such disrespect. Perhaps I’m exaggerating, but Shefflin would have a similar chance in the second half when the ball was moved in and he knocked it over the bar. If he had been taught a lesson that he shouldn’t assume that the Waterford bitches would tamely let him lash home any free he liked then this was progress.

The game was definitely on, and you wonder if John Mullane had been less fired-up whether it might have turned out differently. Twice he received clean possession only for the ball to pop out of his hand like a bar of soap, and he hit one wide that he would normally have put over had he been on his knees. The theme of Waterford not taking their chances has surfaced repeatedly over the last couple of days but I’m inclined to be more charitable. You can’t get every score and we weren’t noticeably more profligate over the 70 minutes than Kilkenny. There’s no doubt though that momentum can play an important part and misses like that followed so closely by scores for the opposition can be a killer. So it proved with Kilkenny’s second goal, a poor clearance being returned back down the field with interest and Aidan Kearney took his eye off the ball for one horrible split-second, allowing Henry Shefflin to have the freedom of the 21-metre area. It wasn’t a gimme, coming over his shoulder at pace, but like all good strikers he had anticipated the error and was able to pirouette and first-time the ball past the advancing goalie.

The temptation to throw your hat at it after a blow like that must have been immense, and it is to Waterford’s credit that they didn’t let it fester, getting the next two scores including one splendid effort from Kevin Moran. Kilkenny finished the half on the up though, leading by six points at the break. What to expect from the second half? Waterford had competed manfully and the performance was at the upper-end of expectations. And yet they were still six points down. Play any worse and the best we could hope for would be a 13-point defeat. Everyone had to go right in the second half.

Here’s the thing: plenty did go right for Waterford. The second half got off to an absolute flier as Shane Walsh eluded his marker and booted the ball to the net. My wife, chugging on a train through the north of Britain, got online on her phone long enough to see that it was 2-12 to 2-9, which clearly told her things were going well. Eoin McGrath and Kevin Moran chalked up infuriating misses, but at the other end it was arguable that Kilkenny were doing even worse with one gilt-edged goal opportunity being spurned as it came off Declan Prendergast’s arse, another effort to set up a chance dribbling embarrassingly wide, and yet another hustled out for a 65.  These were all opportunites that would have buried us but were spurned, and Kilkenny were concerned enough for Shefflin to put aside the aforementioned hubris and slot a potential goal-scoring free over the bar.

I’ve never claimed to be an expert on hurling matters, and if you want a proper match report then there are plenty of places to find one. There are times though when you wonder whether your small opinion is the most obvious thing in the world yet the people on the sideline can’t see the wood for the trees. At this stage, the Waterford team needed shaking up. All that effort, all those breaks, yet it was proving infuriatingly impossible to wear them down. The Kilkenny backs were on top and Henry Shefflin was having one of those days, shaking off markers with the typical elan that has made him such a legend and keeping their scoreboard ticking over, missed goal opportunites be damned. And yet no activity from the Waterford mentors apart from some perfunctory warming up by Dan Shanahan. Looking up at the scoreboard to see that there was only twenty minutes left, you wondered what any sub was meant to do in the remaining time. The fact that Dan couldn’t make an impact when he did come on, certainly akin to what he did against Galway, was almost incidental. The habit that all sports managers seem to have of sticking with a lineup that has worked well but not well enough is frustrating.

Especially so because Waterford seemed to be having all the luck going, or at least were capitalising on every sniff of a goal chance. Dan and JJ Delaney seemed to get to the ball at the same time and in the ensuing tug-of-war the ball went for a 65. It looked like one to me although both my siblings were doubtful. We also disagreed on what to do with the 65. They thought Eoin Kelly should take the point, I thought he should drop it in - no point in kidding ourselves that anything other than goals were going to win this for us. He must have been listening to me because the ball was lobbed in to the square. To put into context just how crazy what happened next was, can you imagine if it had happened to Waterford? All the talk of bottlers and losers and whatnot would have been overwhelming. As it was, it was PJ Ryan and co who, under no pressure whatsoever, let the ball squirm into the net.

Cue a grandstand finish as the blizzard of substitutions that should have happened earlier took place, not least one Kenneth McGrath. It wasn’t too late, especially with Eoin Kelly having one of those purple patches where everything he struck hit the target. Kilkenny though, led by Shefflin in his pomp, held it together. As the clock ticked down it was clear we were going to need two goals. One of them almost arrived right on the stroke of the end of the 70, Kelly overhead-pulling first-time on a ball that had popped up in front of him. It was a breathtaking hit, but PJ Ryan made up for his earlier gaff with a spectacular flying save. Even the point that resulted from the save was a better result for Kilkenny as we weren’t going to get two more plays in the remaining minute.

I’m not convinced that Kilkenny had a lot left in the tank had Waterford been able to muster a late charge. It would be generally accepted that Tipperary are the team best equipped to take them down, but their tactics will doubtless consist of hoping that they’re within a few points with a few minutes left then catching them on the hop. Certainly no one will be thinking in terms of running away from Kilkenny. With that in mind, Waterford definitely rattled Kilkenny’s cage on Sunday. As for our own performance, I don’t think there was much room for improvement. There were not that many bad wides, and Kilkenny will have more cause to point the finger at their own players for blunders than we would. And we had all that luck. So despite being close to 100% in terms of output and getting as many breaks as anyone can reasonably – or even unreasonably - expect, we still came up short. Yet I’m still pretty chuffed with how it panned out. It’s the first time in four cracks at the Cats that Waterford can be said to have maximised their potential. On Sunday we played a team who are probably the best there has ever been. In 1998, we lost to a score of 1-11. In 2009, we lost to a score of 2-23. We might not get that close again, and we can be certain that some  players, Tony Browne in particular, will not be there to help the cause. But Kilkenny can’t keep these standards up forever. Some day we’ll be able to match 1-11 from them with 3-15 from ourselves. I just hope I’m there to see it.

Waterford: Clinton Hennessy, Eoin Murphy, Aidan Kearney, Noel Connors, Tony Browne, Michael Walsh, Declan Prendergast, Shane O’Sullivan (0-1), Kevin Moran (0-1), Seamus Prendergast (0-1; Dan Shanahan, 0-1), Stephen Molumphy (Jamie Nagle), Shane Walsh (2-0; Maurice Shanahan), John Mullane (0-1), Eoin Kelly (1-9, 0-6f, 1-0 65), Eoin McGrath (0-1; Ken McGrath)

Kilkenny: PJ Ryan, Michael Kavanagh, JJ Delaney, Jackie Tyrrell, Tommy Walsh, Brian Hogan, John Tennyson, James Fitzpatrick (0-1; Derek Lyng), Michael Rice (0-1), Henry Shefflin (1-14, 0-7f, 0-1 65), Martin Comerford (TJ Reid), Eoin Larkin (0-2), Eddie Brennan (1-2), Richard Power (0-1), Aidan Fogarty (0-1; Richie Hogan, 0-1)

HT: Waterford 1-9 (12) Kilkenny 2-12 (18)

Referee: Barry Kelly (Westmeath)

Waterford v Kilkenny, 9 August 2009

Cards on the table II

Last time online before the Clash of the Titan and Waterford, so what are we to expect from the game? Back in 2001, Liverpool were playing what felt like a cup final most midweeks and every weekend – in some cases they really were cup finals – and a character called scousertommy on the Shankly Gates message board would post up “I fear an almighty banana skin today / tonight (nt)” before the match. This made sense before playing Bradford – now that would be an unexpected slip – but it was hardly revelatory before playing Arsenal. Either way, as Liverpool kept on racking up victories people became almost obsessed at the possibility that he might not post his message. This was surely what was keeping up the run of success.

So having personally mitigated against disaster on Munster final day, my on-the-record attitude is that I fear an almighty banana skin tomorrow. Here endeth the lesson.

Update: in the course of writing this post, I have found that rivals.net is no more, and presumably ShanklyGates.co.uk with it. The owner of Shankly Gates has gone on to bigger and better things and presumably won’t be reviving it elsewhere. Just as well I archived everything here. I’m watching you, WordPress . . .

Update II 14/11/09: it’s back. And there was me deleting all the links in each Shankly Gates post. Now I’ll have to edit them all to reflect the new URL. Good to have ya back.

The neverending story

Human life occurs only once, and the reason we cannot determine which of our decisions are good and which bad is that in a given situation we can only make one decision; we are not granted a second, third, or fourth life in which to compare various decisions.

Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Dan really is the man. All the media outlets I could find (Hoganstand, RTÉ, the Indo and the Irish Times) led with the fact that Dan Shanahan was not going to start against Kilkenny tomorrow. At first glance, you’d wonder why they are so uniformly surprised. One-and-a-half explosive cameos against Galway does not an automatic selection make. Given the woeful nature of his recent starting performances and the current fetish for the ‘impact sub’, the shock would have been if he had been starting. One shouldn’t be too harsh on the hacks though, especially when as sober and clever a journalist as Cliona Foley is involved. They’re in the business of selling papers and / or advertising space, and Dan sells a lot more papers / attracts a lot more eyeballs than Aidan Kearney.

For it is the putative placing of Kearney at full back that is the real news. Making a radical switch in personnel or placement for a match against Kilkenny famously blew up in Waterford’s face in 2004 when Ian O’Regan was sprung for the semi-final only to ship three first-half goals from which Waterford never recovered. Last year, Davy Fitz tried to avoid that scenario in the always problematic full back position by grooming Ken McGrath for the position throughout the championship but that didn’t really work either, or at least not to the extent that he felt confident enough to try it against the Cats. Putting Kearney in there isn’t going to ruffle too many feathers. His form has made him Waterford’s third best player of the summer, behind Michael Walsh and John Mullane. Taking Walsh out of the centre back position – now that would have been really radical. Leaving Prendergast in there though would have left a high probability of total carnage. Playing Kearney represents a reasonable compromise. We have no way of knowing how it is going to go. But aprés Kundera, it’s better to do something than to do nothing.

Next time: all I know most surely about morality and obligations, I owe to hurling, says Bertie O’Camus

The kiss of death

With friends like this, who needs enemies?

Waterford 1-16 (19) Galway 0-18 (18)

Does adrenalin speed your reaction times up to the point where time seems to slow down? I’m not sure if it is scientifically the case, but there is plenty of anectdotal evidence to suggest this and there was one such anecdote yesterday in Thurles. As Declan Prendergast – and I’m sure it was him, not Michael Walsh – emerged from his own half with the ball, soloing towards the Galway goal with all the grace of a gazelle with a lion on its back, who should I spy tearing up on his right hand shoulder but John Mullane. It was almost as if time telescoped as Mullane moved towards the event horizon of a black hole. Prendergast batted the ball towards him, Mullane caught in his stride and barely broke it as he sent the ball in a curving arc over the bar. And all hell broke lose among the Déisigh.

I’ve been following Waterford’s efforts closely for over a decade now – hurling started in 1998, doncha know – and plenty has happened in that time. We’ve had close games, a few big wins, a few big defeats, drew some, and lost games we should have won easy. But at no point have we won a game where we were behind the 8-ball for most of it. The only occasion that comes to mind where we snatched defeat from the jaws of victory was when Paul O’Brien scored a late goal against Tipperary in the 2004 Munster semi-final. And even then we had led for most of the game only to be overtaken in the last ten minutes. Against Galway yesterday we were probably behind for 60 of the 70 minutes, and were six points down midway through the second half of a low scoring, goalless encounter. To turn that around was the stuff of fairy tales.

The day had not gotten off to the most auspicious of starts. Taking the wrong roundabout coming off the Clonmel ring road sent us on the Fethard road. It had been a while since we had taken this particular cross-country jaunt beloved of those convinced they can trim thirty seconds off the journey. No problem with going through Fethard then. It was just that it got really wacky when we found ourselves in New Birmingham. Who knew there was a place in Tipperary called New Birmingham? We certainly hadn’t, which informed us in no uncertain terms that we’d come too far. Turning around brought us in conflict with a road race where the wretched of the earth were shambling along in the middle of the highway causing us to do swerves that would have impressed John Mullane. Next time we’ll make sure we stick to the main road.

We arrived in Thurles with flaming arrows poking out of our wagon and found the town eerily quiet. In retrospect, I was probably looking forward to some culchie craziness to make our English guests – my brother-in-law and Mrs d’s second cousin, although a much closer relation than that status usually implies  - come away thinking the Micks were all mad when in crowds. God forbid they might think it no different to a regular league match at Anfield or Goodison Park. Making our way into the ground you then started worrying that they’d be certain it was nothing like Anfield or Goodison Park as the decrepit nature of the venue blazed forth for them to see (although the Red part of me wonders whether the Toffee would have felt right at home, ho ho). As it happens the authorities made the sensible decision to close the Killinan End thus forcing everyone together and minimising the gaps that might have reduced the atmosphere. Allied to some relatively decent seats, certainly  by relaxed Ticketmaster criteria, I began to relax myself.

It wasn’t as if I had high expectations, and when the dust had settled my brother would confess that the main reason for going was what he saw as giving a send-off to this generation that have given us such a wild and wonderful time. With 15 minutes to go he would muse that this was going to be the last time Tony Browne would pull on a Waterford shirt. Then again, all things might well pass but that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen today as Dublin failed to bring a tremendous season for them to the next level and reach an All-Ireland semi-final. Quite apart from hoping Dublin would make such a breakthrough and having those hopes dashed, there was a slightly queasy feeling at what would be said when Justin McCarthy’s new team did better than the team who had shafted him last summer – not that I begrudge Justin his happiness, but I can do without the trolling on the subject.

So having got through usual pre-match pleasantries, i.e. Amhrán na bhFiann, which I’m relieved to report didn’t leave me embarrassed at such a brazen display of nationalism in front of the post-imperial visitors , I was trying harder than usual to keep cool. This wasn’t made any easier by the presence of as big a bunch of balubas as ever to grace a sporting event sitting directly in front of us. They weren’t obnoxious, they were simply clueless about the game of hurling in general and the etiquette of match-going in a non-segregated environment (which, as expected, freaked the English folk out no end) in particular. They would applaud the ref for giving a free to Galway when he had given it to Waterford. Every Waterford wide was greeted with cheering and leaping to the feet which is fine in the last five minutes but totally OTT in the first five. One yahoo even had a Dublin beanie hat on, doubtless an expression of true love from some Jackeen brassie he had met in the boozer a few hours before. In fairness to the lads none of their clownishness was directed at those around them, but it was a source of constant irritation throughout.

Not as big as Waterford’s first half performance though. After the initial period of fencing Galway got on top. Looking at the programme beforehand I was struck by the lack of marquee players up front. When you consider how the likes of Noel Lane, Brendan Lynskey, Martin Naughton, Anthony Cunningham, Eanna Ryan and some fella called Joe C spring to mind even twenty years on, Galway’s attack – with the exception of some fella called Joe C – didn’t strike fear into our hearts. They’ve never had a problem racking up big scores since those days, the problem has usually been lightweight back lines. And to see Waterford being horsed out of it by the Galway backs was a source of great concern. Only Stephen Molumphy seemed to be getting any change out of the ball, and Ollie Canning’s limpet imitation on John Mullane was working a treat from Galway’s perspective. Points were exchanged from frees before Galway got the first point from play, an excellent strike from Aongus Callanan after an under pressure Clinton Hennessy had sent the ball straight down his throat. It was just as well that Eoin Kelly had brought his free-taking hurley – and it should be noted what a relief it is that this aspect of Waterford’s game is no longer such a source of angst – because Galway were well on top, helped along by a point from a sideline from Joe Canning. But the double-edged nature of such a talent would be illustrated by a period midway through the half. 0-5 to 0-2 up, Galway embarked on a shocking series of efforts, two dreadful wides bookended by two sideline cuts that were brilliantly struck but drifted wide. Waterford reacted to these let-offs with a couple of frees, one of them a really soft one when John Mullane was hit by what looked to me a clean shoulder, and a great point from Kevin Moran to almost miraculously level matters.

There was no disguising Galway’s ascendancy though, however scrappy it might be. Galway began to edge clear, helped by a point from Joe Canning when he was pulled all over the shop by Declan Prendergast and resorted to kicking the ball over the bar from a long way out. The unusual nature of the point disguised just how easily he had made the space. Waterford would be grateful for a great save from Clinton Hennessy which illustrated to the newbies the value of the reaction of the crowd in gauging what had just happened – abrupt ooh = wide / 65; ripple of applause = point;  huge roar = goal. Anyone taking notes would appreciate this later on.

Canning knocked over the 65 and another ‘point’ from him soon after would cause consternation. Shooting from an acute angle the ball looked wide from where I was – admittedly as far away as it is possible to be and still be in the New Stand – but was signalled over after some hesitation from the umpires. What followed did no credit to either Waterford or the ref. Eoin Kelly in particular can consider himself fortunate to have escaped censure as he flew off the handle. The ball may well have been wide but the display of histrionics was unnecessary and could have seen him booked, or worse. The ref though displayed a surprising level of procrastination, heading in to have a consultation with his umpires when he was surely in no position to second-guess them then allowing the point. Either chalk off the score or get on with it. Eoin Kelly could probably claim on the sly that such pressure helps when the next 50-50 decision comes his way, and it looked right suspicious when Kelly went down in a heap right under the Old Stand on the 45m line. He scored from the subsequent free and we went in at half-time grateful to be only four points down and praying that the swirling wind was a factor.

Initially it looked like it might be the case with Mullane flashing a goal effort narrowly wide, Eoin Kelly scoring one of those ridiculously precocious over-the-shoulder efforts and Kevin Moran tacking on another fine point. But this was a false dawn as Galway struck back with three quick points, one of them the result of a free when Eoin Murphy simply chopped Damien Hayes down in a blatant professional foul. Joe Canning must have pondered having a go for goal to extract maximum punishment and Galway would come to regret such caginess.

The post half-time blowback had now evaporated and Galway moved six points clear. The Shanahan brothers came on – Maurice and Dan respectively, which demonstrates how the pecking order has changed – and Maurice made a nuisance of himself from the word go. Not enough of a nuisance to impact the scoreboard, although he could claim frustration when his good play put Mullane in the clear only for the effort from a narrow angle to go wide. Or did it? Instinct again told me it was over and we got another display of petulance from Waterford as it was waved wide, this time slapped down with righteous indignation by Diarmuid Kirwan. It looked like heads were beginning to drop as the good work by the backs wasn’t translating into scores at the other end.  It was around this point, as alluded to previously, that maudlin thoughts about the imminent departures from the white and blue began to play around in certain skulls. Waterford managed to trim the gap to three but Galway quickly moved back to the insurance score clear, and even the English second cousin could see that Waterford were going to need a goal, something that I suggested was not going to come.

At some point Dan Shanahan had moved in to full-forward. In a sport which consists of 14 mini-battles all over the field with the final result dependent on the collective tally of those battles a simple switch can have a spectacular impact. It’s doubtful whether Noel Hickey would be as discombobulated as Eugene McEntee was, but the brief period where Dan made a difference was explosive. First he gathered a high ball and drove the ball goalwards. Narrowly wide but 10/10 for the effort. Then it happened again, only this time he got the ball clear. I couldn’t see who it fell to or how it ended up in the net – after-the-event nod in the direction of Shane Walsh here for a fine finish –  but the reaction of the Waterford crowd on the Town End told us all we need to know. Suddenly it was a one point game. Galway had a chance which drifted hopelessly wide allowing Waterford to come back down the pitch, earn what looked like a soft free even at the time, thus allowing Kelly to level matters up right on the stroke of the 70 minutes. Extra time loomed but Prendergast and Mullane brought up that thrilling, scarcely believable denoument. There was time for Joe Canning to leap into a phone box and don the outside-the-suit underpants but his tricky effort slipped wide sparking wild celebrations – what was that about not celebrating opposition wides? – as the two minutes of injury fizzed into the bottom of the egg timer.

The final whistle blew and Thurles reverberated to disbelieving Waterford celebrations. During his bout where Waterford supposedly boozed away the chance of beating Dublin in the League, Bernard Dunne found himself well behind on the judges scorecards as it went into 11th round. He had to land a knockout blow and he did. This was similar. We hadn’t exactly been battered by Galway and while they were well ahead it could still be won with a knockout punch. It didn’t seem at all likely though as we went into those last rounds, which was what made it so special when they landed that late flurry of blows and Galway didn’t get up off the canvas. No one in Waterford will be under the illusion that Kilkenny will be quaking in their boots after this. But each individual Championship success has value when you are from Waterford, and the manner of this one will rank it up there with the very best.

Waterford:  Clinton Hennessy, Eoin Murphy, Declan Prendergast, Noel Connors, Tony Browne, Michael Walsh, Aidan Kearney, Kevin Moran (0-2; Dan Shanahan), Shane O’Sullivan, Jamie Nagle (Maurice Shanahan), Seamus Prendergast (0-1), Stephen Molumphy, John Mullane (0-1), E Kelly (0-12, 0-11 f), Shane Casey (Shane Walsh, 1-0)

Galway: Colm Callanan, Damien Joyce, Eugene McEntee, Ollie Canning, Fergal Moore, John Lee, Eoin Lynch, Ger Farragher (0-2), Kevin Hynes, Aongus Callanan (0-2), Cyril Donnellan (Kevin Hayes), Andy Smith (0-1), Damien Hayes (0-3), Joe Canning (0-9, 0-5 f, 0-1 65), Niall Healy (Joe Gantley, 0-1)

HT: Waterford 0-7 Galway 0-11

Referee: Diarmuid Kirwan (Cork)