Counties That I Don’t Hate – Dublin

(No 1 in a series of 2)

Jerry Seinfeld once made the observation that when it comes to sport, we are ‘rooting for laundry‘. When Michael Owen was playing for Liverpool he was a hero to the Kop – his outside-the-outfit-y-fronts were slightly skid-marked for effectively displacing uberhero Robbie Fowler, but he was still an object of veneration. Yet three years ago he was roundly jeered and even booed by most of Anfield. His crime? Wearing a Newcastle United shirt. Wearing different laundry.

We’re meant to hate. Nick Hancock – yep, my vision of the world is informed by the bon mots of comedians – put it well when he denounced the habit of having a ’soft spot’ for a team. Hancock denounced such talk, saying that “football is not like religion, football is religion, and you don’t hear the Pope saying he has a soft spot for Islamic fundamentalism”. His addition to this quotable quote, that he was disappointed every weekend of the season that the optimum set of results – Stoke City winning and everyone else losing – didn’t come to pass, struck a chord with me back in the mid 90’s.

Now though, I’m not so sure. Even Nick Hancock would admit that Port Vale are singled out for special doses of venom – he must be having a right old time at the moment as Stoke sit comfortably in the Premier League while Vale languish in the depths of League Two. And once you admit that all teams are equally hateworthy but some are more equal than others, then there’s got to be someone you hate least. It might be due to geographical distance, or lack of competition, or lying down like a whipped cur whenever they meet your team – take a bow, Newcastle United. And my recent affection for the England soccer team has shown me that is possible to change your tune as you grow old(er) and mellow(er). So with all those caveats in mind, I’d like to record the existence of two counties that I like to see win, even feeling some disappointment when they fail.

The first of those is Dublin. I can imagine the splutters of outrage that would greet such a sentiment expressed anywhere else online or in the real world. The Jackeens! How could you like the soccer hooligans masquerading as GAA fans? And it would be fair to say that in the real world there is a divide between them and culchies. Many’s the time in my time in college in Dublin where I encountered situations where they looked down on everyone and everything from the provinces, as if the only difference between their home town and New York was that only one of them was still a capital city.

But in GAA terms, that sense of difference is something to be celebrated, not scorned. Noel Purcell was once asked when he would be heading up to Croke Park to watch the Dubs. Why, he replied, would he be bothered with a team of culchies? At the time I thought he was making some Hot Press-style cut at bogball and stickball. Now a little older and a little wiser, I can see that he meant that ‘Dublin’ GAA teams were stuffed to the gills with people up from the country who only played for the Metropolitans because it was impossible to haul themselves back home of a weekend to play for their real county. It would be hard for the native Dubs to get excited about a team like that.

Which is what made Heffo’s Army so exciting. The weight attached to this team in GAA history far outweighs their achievements. Four All-Ireland’s in ten years was a decent return, but Offaly won three All-Ireland’s between 1970 and 1983 and their legend is almost entirely based on one kick by Seamus Darby. The Dubs were different because of that soccer-style sense of razzmatazz and the townie ways of Tony Hanahoe, Brian Mullins et al. But they were the same too because, well, they loved Gaelic games (or one form of it, and how many of us genuinely devote equal time to both football and hurling?)

The Dublin GAA fraternity are our allies, not our enemies. When the rugger buggers were swooning because 20,000+ attended the decisive match in the 1993 All-Ireland League between St Mary’s and Young Munster, such hubris was slapped down by Robbie Kelleher who scornfully noted that the Dubs could get attendances like that at League matches. Whether this  is true or not – seems unlikely – it doesn’t change that fact that having the likes of Kelleher, a D4-type stockbroker, on our side against those who despise the GAA and everything it stands for, is something to be celebrated.

The charges laid against the Dubs are usually puddle-shallow. Supposedly they are all bandwagon jumpers because 70,000+ go to Championship matches while you’d be doing well (whatever Robbie Kelleher says) to get 7,000 at Parnell Park in the spring. This means they have an awful lot in common with the rest of us beyond the Pale. There were only 14,000 people at Waterford’s opening Championship match last year against Clare and a lot fewer than half of them were from Waterford (full disclosure: I wasn’t one of those present). Yet there must have been 50,000 people in Croke Park in September wearing white and blue. By that measure, it is the Déise ‘faithful’ who are the bandwagon jumpers, not the Dubs. These metrics – modest crowds far below the capacity of the venue in May / June, hysterical bleating that the diehards can’t get tickets in September – can be applied to every county in Ireland. Except Dublin.

Then there’s the whole soccer thing. It’s been a long time since liking soccer was considered an insult even among diehard GAA types. Almost everyone I know who is involved in the GAA, even those who are active in their clubs, has some interest in soccer, particularly (and ironically) English teams. Yet when the Dubs are involved their olé-oléing is instantly bracketed as some manner of crime against the memory of Michael Hogan. So what if the way the Hill supports its team is different to the rest of the country? Would people rather they were down in Dalymount Park?

So those are some defences against the Dubs. But there are reasons other than numbers and a shared sense of tribalism to like Dublin. In football, they are truly a bunch of the most lovable losers. Mayo are often cited (not least here) as a county whose inability to close the deal makes them attractive. Yet in 2006 Dublin managed to out-Mayo Mayo, throwing away a seven point lead against supposedly the most brittle county in the land. How could you hate someone who could implode in a manner that would make a British tennis player blush?

In hurling, sympathy for Dublin comes from another direction. Hurling is a sport constantly having to prove itself. With Laois completely gone out of the picture, Offaly and Wexford heading that way, and Clare, Galway, Limerick and Waterford continually flattering to deceive, the sport is desperately in need of some new blood.  It’s not a question of someone challenging Kilkenny. At the moment, we need Kilkenny to dip their standards for that o happen. But once that happens – and it will; it must – Dublin, with a lot of success and minor and Under-21 level, could be waiting in the long grass.

All this might change were Dublin to become any good. A team striding through the world would get old pretty fast, and there might be some justification to concerns that Dublin’s population advantage would make it invincible were they ever to get their act together. The thing about sleeping giants though is that they invariably tend to go comatose rather than wake up. Look at Newcastle United. Why have a down on a team for something that might, but probably won’t, happen? When the facts change, I change my mind. If Dublin become successful, I’ll reassess my attitude to them in that light. Until then, it’s hard to hate.

As I wrote this, it dawned on me that a success for Dublin could have immediate dire consequences for Waterford. If Dublin win Leinster and we win Munster then one of our rewards would be put in the same half of the All-Ireland series as Kilkenny. But you know what? I’ll take that chance. Winning Munster is an end in itself, and the odds are that we’re going to have to meet Kilkenny at some point if we want to win the ultimate prize – avoiding them until the final didn’t do us any good in 2007. So bring on a Dublin win in Leinster, a fitting reward for the efforts of those faceless drones that have dragged Dublin hurling up from the mire over the last decade. And when the capital joins the rest of us in embracing the joys of Gaelic games, you will all be grateful for what they did.

The end of the beginning

The Cork hurling saga has had another twist. Initially the players won. Then the County Board won. Now? It’s ostensibly a win for the players, but all those people quoting Zhou Enlai have the right of it.

Let’s get the platitudes out of the way first. The threats against Gerald McCarthy are outrageous, and the players should feel some small sense of shame at the antics of some members of the mob that they unleashed to try and get their way. Had they done at the start what they did in recent weeks, i.e. get the clubs onside, then none of this would have happened. Instead they thought that the way forward was to make as big a song and dance as possible and . . . what, exactly? Frank, Gerald and co were going to have the scales fall from their eyes and admit the error of their ways? Imagine if some loon had decided to follow through on the threats, and with self-righteousness such a common condition down Leeside it’s not hard to imagine. Allied to suggestions that an instruction was issued that no one should attend McCarthy’s mother’s funeral, there seems to have been no level to which the players would stoop to get his head.

Having said all that, the County Board and the clubs also come out of this smelling of dung. I’ve been saying all along that we had to go with the County Board as they were the only ones with a mandate to run Cork GAA. It’s clear now that those who said that there was a democratic deficit in Cork have been proven correct. You have to smile / grimace at the way minds only became focussed in the clubs when the prospect of their hurlers being massacred by all and sundry became all too real – if the rest of us took that attitude then Cork would only ever be playing Kilkenny and Tipperary – but either the County Board misread the mood or didn’t care about it in the first place. Whether or not it was junior clubs who led the heave is irrelevant. They are Cork GAA, and their word is law. If the clubs are allowing themselves be led by an unrepresentative minority then shame on them too.  Whichever it is, we’ve got too many people doing too much and too many doing nothing at all. A plague on all their houses.

So what happens now? In the short run, the answer is ‘not much’. There’s a quote from one of the bould Zhou’s contemporaries that is less well known but equally pithy. Vermont Senator George Aiken said about Vietnam that the United States should “declare victory and go home“. This seems to be the philosophy of the 2008 Cork panel, as having previously stated that Frank Murphy and the Board Executive were The Problem, we now see that they are happy to work with him – a case of we’ve come for a head and any head will do. Seán Óg says that “as regards the issue of Frank, other people need to look at that and hopefully maybe the clubs will take it forward or whatever” which isn’t exactly a rallying call, is it?

In the long run though, these spats between County Boards and panels are going to become increasingly vicious. In fairness to players up and down the land – and I honestly include the Cork hurlers of 2008 in that statement – this was probably inevitable once the GAA decided that the senior inter-county championships were going to the association’s cash cow. Even if you don’t think that the demands being placed on amateur players are excessive, and I for one don’t think anyone is forcing them to do anything, the pool of people who are willing to do it is going to shrink and the members of that pool are going to naturally feel an increased sense of entitlement and solidarity with each other. I don’t for one second believe the Cork strikers all agreed with every element of their strategy, but they undoubtedly agreed that they would discuss the matter privately then present a public face. Factor in the displays of player power shown in Waterford, Wexford and Offaly and you can see that this resolution in Cork is merely the beginning of things, not the end.

And all this before we consider the influence of the GPA. Which is something best left until another day.

Lower the blades, lads

Image: Lower The Blades Lads, Paul Downey

It’s been a quiet month here at Come On The Déise, testament to a busy schedule in a new job and a resolute determination to not write about matters unrelated to Waterford GAA during the dog days of December In truth it’s more the former than the latter as I haven’t been following matters in Waterford GAA, which meant I missed Dave Bennett’s excoriating attack on the tactics adopted by Waterford during the All-Ireland final.

What to make of it all? It’s possible that it represents the embittered ramblings of a retired player frustrated that the new regime did not start with the new slate that he might have thought would elevate him past the players plying on their reputation. And certainly Bennett would have reason to be bitter, having been outstanding against Clare only to be dropped after what amounted to a training session against Antrim.

That would only account for why he said it, not what he said. And it isn’t hard to believe that it’s the truth. Davy Fitz would have predicated his attempts to bring Waterford over the All-Ireland finishing line on the basis of trying something different to previous regime – the old line about the definition of stupidity being trying the same thing and expecting a different result. Hence Ken McGrath at full back or the helter skelter handpassing / pivots that dominated the games against Antrim and Offaly. So how were we to manage what no one had done in three years, i.e. beat Kilkenny in the Championship? Well, meeting fire with fire probably seemed like a good idea at the time – at least, it might have done before Waterford players were to be seen bouncing off Kilkenny players like rag dolls.

So it’s entirely believable that Waterford were told to go out and give Kilkenny a bit of timber. But was it really such a big deal that “it was like 12 years of goodwill was wiped out in ten seconds”? At the time, I only noted one example of roughhouse behaviour on the part of a Waterford player, when Kevin Moran could (and probably should) have been given his marching orders. I wonder whether Dave Bennett is confusing the direction of the conversations that took place. A few months on it may seem like everyone who phoned raised the issue with him when it’s more likely that he raised the issue with everyone who phoned him.

Wake me up when August ends

(NB photos lifted from The Wanderer’s Irish Rail Photos. Yes, really.)

I’ve been sitting here rather pathetically for much of time since returning from England, flitting between various websites trying to encapsulate my thoughts after Waterford’s win over Tipperary in the All-Ireland hurling semi-final. You wait 45 years for something to come along – okay, I’m not that old, but memes are pervasive in the GAA; the deeds of previous generations lie heavily on the current one – so that when it does, it can overwhelm. It’s like Godot has turned up.

I’ve been subjected to a blizzard of thoughts in the last couple of days, probably a consequence of not being there and therefore lacking a firm narrative. So to try and overcome the writer’s block, I thought I’d ruminate on what went so right after those horrific failures in 1998, 2002, 2004, 2006 and 2007 (and writing it down really hammer home the horror). I think we can discount the defeats in 1998 and 2006 because we were simply not good enough those years. This may sound strange given they were our narrowest defeats, but the manner in which we staggered through the Championship like a punch-drunk boxer was not redolent of someone preparing to get their hands on the McCarthy Cup. sid wallace over at AFR put Waterford’s efforts in 1998 into context when reviewing Ger Loughnane’s recollection of the Clare years:

No thought is given to the contrary analysis that Clare wound themselves into a frenzy over opponents who at the time weren’t worthy of it. Whatever about Waterford’s front and attitude in 1998, they were a mediocre bunch as was proved by the way the rest of the year played out. Even playing at half pace Clare were much too good for Waterford in the drawn game and only a series of freak events (best encapsulated by Anthony Kirwan scoring 2-1) allowed Waterford to steal a draw. The writer had little doubt that Clare would have finished the job off with a full complement of players available for the next series of games without the need to drill into players that they had defecated on their own jersey.

As for 2006, this was the year that we shipped our biggest Championship defeat since that replay against Clare. An uncharacteristically cool last few minutes against Cork when it looked like the treble chasers – or, if we are to believe Roy Keane, the five-in-a-row chasers – were about to run away with it moved us to within touching / heartbreaking distance, but that was not typical of a team that looked like it was out of ideas.

The teams of 2002, 2004 and 2007 though. Munster champions all, and League champions in one case as well. They really should have been good enough to close out the deal, especially when playing the likes of Clare and Limerick. It’s unavoidable after the events of the early summer of 2008 to not look at the issue of the managers. Did Davy Fitzgerald work the oracle? The manner in which Waterford imploded so spectacularly against a clearly inferior Clare team can easily be laid at the feet of a management team that fiddled while Urbs Intacta burned. Dropping Ian O’Regan into the Kilkenny cauldron was brave but ultimately foolhardy. And not being able to cope with a team that we had beaten convincingly mere weeks previous was not acceptable. Compare this with Davy’s battle plan, which if we are to believe Anthony Daly on the Sunday Game, and he’s a convincing pundit, consisted of the cojones-laden strategy of experimenting against Offaly and Wexford for the big tilt in the semi-final. Fail to prepare and prepare to fail. This time we were prepared.

Which is all true, but it isn’t the whole story. Who is to say that if Justin McCarthy had not had the luxury of being able to slap up a few middling (the likes of Westmeath and Laois don’t count as middling) teams that he wouldn’t have been ready for any of the semi-finals? Davy was able to toy with the notion of Ken McGrath at full back and a lot of heavy work in training at the expense of stick work, and it showed with some of the ten-thumbed efforts in those games. Justin had no such luxuries. When he sprung Ian O’Regan it backfired. Yet when he took a chance on a goalie in his late 20’s in 2005, it was the sowing of a harvest that we are still reaping today.

It’s corny to say it, but Davy has had all the luck that Justin did not have. It seemed so at the time, and history has proven that that draw was a gift from heaven. Davy had the wit to grab the chance, but a few random acts could have spelt defeat against either the Biffs or the Yellabellies and doomed Davy to unending enmity of everyone from Waterford for presiding over the end of our golden age. Luck was one of the things that got us through. Add in a bunch of talented opponents who were perhaps just a little naive in the semi-final, as opposed to teams high on their own manufactured outrage or the cutest bunch of hoors ever to play any game, and you have a recipe for success.

And luck got us through the Tipp game too.

Our time had to come. It could have come in 2002 or 2004 or 2007. It came in 2008. We don’t have the luxury of six pops at the final, but maybe we’ll only need one. With a bit of luck.

Waterford 2-18 (24) Offaly 0-18 (18)

What do you take from a win that is the work of one man? On the one hand, it can’t be sustained. If you were told after the Galway – Cork match that the Tribesmen were carried by Joe Canning, you would not be surprised to learn that they lost. On the other hand, what’s wrong with one player dominating on a day when other tried-and-tested players don’t fire on all cylinders? Past performance is no guarantee of future results, an axiom that can cut both ways. Perhaps one of the giants who slept through the Offaly game will arise against Wexford and take the burden from the shoulders of the one who carried it against the Faithful. You can only hope.

Speaking of hope, those who hold out hope for the future of hurling – a bare handful of people if the volume of conversation on the web is to be believed – will be puffing their chests out after this stellar day in Thurles. For the preposterously low sum of €25, the thirty thousand-odd people who were present were treated to over two hours of top notch entertainment. Chief among the hopeful brigade is Wellboy over at UpTheDeise.com, who was to be found (I think; perhaps it was one of his acolytes) on the bridge near the railway station handing out his branded balloons. I’m not certain what these items are called, and Googling hasn’t yielded any results, but I recall the cacophonous din created by the fans of the Anaheim Angels during Game 6 of the 2002 World Series. 45,000 people hammering them together was quite a sight, and while it’s easier to get everyone doing it when a) the crowd are all rooting for one team, and b) the sport in question, i.e. baseball, is a series of setpieces rather than the nonstop tumult that is hurling. Still, 10/10 as an exercise in marketing, and I might frequent UpTheDeise.com a bit more, especially now that he seems to have purged the trolls.

We took up our seats good and early, with two Laois women, a Kerry man and an English woman in tow, all cheering for the Déise boys – now how’s that as an exercise in marketing? We certainly got there earlier than the hordes that suddenly erupted out of the New Stand onto the pitch a few minutes before the match was due to start. It didn’t look like the stand was full, but you can’t blame the stewards for deciding that it was better to give those willing to trash the GAA some more ammo by permitting people to switch stands in such an undignified manner than have people crib about being expected to sit in the wings of the stand. It was two parts amusement one part buttock clenching embarrassment as the stream continued into the (superior) Old Stand, despite the protestations of the announcer. Once again, the GAA can’t win with its public. People complain about having to buy tickets at a booth when it would be easier to pay at the gate. Yet things like this are bound to happen when it’s pay at the gate. Should the authorities close the stand you’d have people wailing that they would have to run around to the other side to gain admittance and they should delay the throw-in, which would lead other people to say to hell with them, start the game on time and come earlier next time, but the Gardaí would inevitably delay the throw-in due to the danger of a crush which means no one need be worried about the game not being delayed meaning they turn up late next time and the next time . . . nope, there’s no solution short of some kind of hive mind implant to change everyone’s behaviour.

(One final thought before we get away from this padding and into the match. Once again, the toilet facilities were superb in the Old Stand. Whoever decided that the patrons of Semple Stadium deserved treatment that wouldn’t be out of place in the Hilton after years of treating them like cattle should be beatified.)

The last couple of weeks have been rather helter skelter, what with the English woman up to her tonsils in exam papers and the dislocation of switching jobs, so the details of Waterford’s team passed me by. It wasn’t until Waterford had their first free that I twigged that my great crusade for 2008 had come up short. Dave Bennett was back in his pre-destined position of bench warmer, punished for the crime of not being flawless with the frees against Antrim. I probably should give up banging this drum, but the sight of Bennett coming on with about thirty seconds to go was enough to make yer blood boil. The manner in which he takes these slights is only further evidence of the even temperment of a man who should be picked way ahead of some of the fat arses currently stinking up the side. Sort it out, Davy Fitz.

So that’s one of those things that haven’t changed under the nouveau régime. Another thing that hasn’t changed is Waterford’s capacity to hit the ground running, as John Mullane rattled over the first point within seconds then worked his way into space before playing a pass to Eoin Kelly that went too close to Brian Mullins in the Offaly goal. Way down in our perch near the Town End of the stand it was impossible to tell just how big a clanger he dropped – did it bounce awkwardly or did he simply take his eye off the ball? – but it somehow squirmed past him and Eoin Kelly, like a good striker assuming the best, was there to bat the ball into the gaping net. Further quick fire points followed and Waterford were 1-4 up before we’d even drawn breath.

Other things that never change are the free taking calamities, as Eoin Kelly missed a routine strike only for Offaly to come straight down the pitch and score. We joked that this was a ‘turning point’ then watched in growing horror as Offaly reeled us in like a mackerel. The early spurt was always going to be skewed by the soft goal which made this period all the worse. Eight points flew over without reply. The Antrim game had made me wonder whether the Davy Fitzgerald model had a game plan, something you could never accuse Justin McCarthy of having. The only plan there seemed to be here was an infuriating desire to do what I can only describe as micromanaging the ball, constantly twisiting to try and create more space rather than simply letting fly with the ball out of defence at the first available opportunity. Even the first available half- opportunity would have been better than these ham-fisted handpasses and hospital balls. Panic seemed to be spreading through the team to the point that every foray forward had to end in a goal. In fairness they were decent goal scoring chances, with Hurney racing (in so far as he can ever ‘race’) through only to be well blocked, Mullane slicing a chance wide and Kelly being fouled then having the free saved and cleared. But had we been several points ahead rather than watching a lead evaporate you can be certain these would have gone over the bar.

Thank God for defensive cockups then as Offaly’s full back line contrived once again to gift Waterford a goal. Another charge towards goal seemed to have ended when the ball was intercepted by Michael Verney but he fumbled the ball like a bar of soap and Kelly was there to lash the ball past Mullins. What an utter sickener for Offaly, seeing all their good work undone in one careless moment, and Verney was quickly called ashore. Points were exchanged until half time leaving Waterford a point ahead at the break.

Much has been said online about the performance of the referee Michael Haverty. He didn’t have a great game, that’s for sure. It struck me that he was prone to give the decisions according to the way the momentum was going. Whichever side was on top was given the benefit of the doubt, which led to some truly wacky decisions. Players were punished for what might be termed loose strikes but were neither dangerous nor anything they could have anticipated. I’m all for supposedly over-fussy refs – apply the rulebook, that’s all I ask; this notion that refs should ‘let the game flow’ is a recipe for brutality, something that would be evident in the following game between Galway and Cork. But Haverty got lots of decisions wrong, the only consolation being he seemed to dish out the errors evenly. And the abiding memory of the ref from this game was the astonishing distance he got on the sliothar as he threw them from the 65 metre line to the edge of the square just before the start of the second half. Clearly no one is going to argue with his decisions.

The second half started with Offaly flying out of the traps, knocking over two quick points before the game settled into a series of tit-for-tat points, with Eoin Kelly contriving to miss another doozy of a free in this period. It is about time that I referred to him directly, as anyone who was at the game will be wondering what game I was watching to be so dismissive of his performance. For starters, his goals were soft affairs gifted up to him by dreadful Offaly errors. And his free taking was as erratic as always. He seems to have adopted a Jonny Wilkinson-style routine for his frees but while he hit some decent ones in the second half he did miss a few easier ones that we need to be getting if we are to advance further. Up to the fifty minute or so mark, there was little to suggest he was about to go supernova. But go supernova he did, with a display of crazy point scoring that was as good as any hurler ever produced. Gathering a puckout around the 65 metre line, he turned and smacked it over the bar on his left side. Then he pointed from way out wide on the right, over his shoulder no less. Then came another crazy heft from out the field under pressure. Long range frees now flew over the bar with minimum effort. Stirring stuff, and it was observed to me after the game that you could see Offaly crumble around this time. They persevered but when it became clear that goals were what was needed it became equally clear that none were going to be forthcoming. Whether this was because of the presence of Ken McGrath is debatable. We definitely missed his moxy in the half back line, and he didn’t seem to do a whole lot of import at full back. But the scoreboard tells us Offaly didn’t score a goal and Clinton Hennessy didn’t have to make a single save throughout the game. Some might say Offaly didn’t threaten, but Joe Bergin has given us palpitations in the past so it’s not unreasonable to suggest we were doing something right.

Kelly’s stellar performance, rounded off with two more long range frees, carried the team across the finish line. The ying of his 2-13 can be set against the yang of 0-5 for the rest of the team. John Mullane endlessly caused trouble for the Offaly backs and drew a few frees, but the rest of the forwards could have been replaced with dustbins with little harm done, and Big Dan was a fair bit worse than any trash receptacle might have been. The selectors have got to bite the bullet with Dan. Tracing the comments I’ve made through each game this year can show how mediocre he has been. The point where you say “give him another chance” was passed a few games back. Other players may have underperformed yesterday but they’ve either not had enough games to be sternly judged (Hurney and Prendergast) or can point to good outings already this year in their defence (Mullane and Eoin McGrath). The ongoing experiment with Ken McGrath in the back line will surely be persisted with even if the evidence for its effectiveness is mixed. We’ve come a long way since that Clare game, and (let’s be honest) we’ve gotten the easier half of the draw in the quarter-finals – just like Offaly in this round Wexford will view it the same way so no need to paste this to the dressing room wall, Mr Meyler. Kilkenny and Tipperary won’t be quaking in their boots but even getting a crack at either of them would represent progress of a sort.

Waterford: Clinton Hennessy; Eoin Murphy, Ken McGrath, Declan Prendergast, Shane O’Sullivan, Tony Browne, Jack Kennedy (Brain Phelan), Michael Walsh (capt), Jamie Nagle (Paul Flynn), Dan Shanahan, Gary Hurney (Stephen Molumphey, 0-1), Seamus Prendergast (0-1), E McGrath (0-1; Dave Bennett), Eoin Kelly (2-13), J Mullane (0-2)

Offaly: Brian Mullins, David Franks (0-1), David Kenny, Michael Verney (Conor Hernon; James Rigney), Kevin Brady, Ger Oakley, Paul Cleary (0-1), Brendan Murphy (0-2), Rory Hanniffy (0-2), Shane Dooley (0-1), Joe Brady, Derek Molloy (0-1), Brian Carroll (0-9), Joe Bergin (0-1), Daniel Currams (Conor Mahon)

HT: Waterford 2-6 (12) Offaly 0-11 (11)

Referee: Michael Haverty (Galway)

Post Scriptum: the second game was a thirlling, tension soaked, bonus. Hopefully I’ll get to write about it through the week.

Waterford v Offaly, 19 July 2008

Run for your lives, the Déise are on the charge!

Okay, it wasn’t the most stirring of wins, what with relying on a Herculean performance from Eoin Kelly – 2-13! -  to topple the Biffs. But after a bleak summer thus far Waterford have overcome the conquerors of Limerick and with a tie against Wexford in the offing (verification of reports pending), it’s looking a lot healthier than it was. Dare we dream . . . ?

Joe Bergin, Man of Steel

Waterford’s last defeat in the 2007 season before the implosion against Limerick in Croke Park was in the final group game of the League campaign against Offaly. That day, Waterford were terrorised by Joe Bergin at full forward for Offaly as he scored 2-3 of their 3-15. Keeping him in check will be a necessary, but not a sufficient, condition of gauging the success of the gamble of putting Ken McGrath at full back. The bottom line is winning, but even if we win and this experiment fails then we can forget about going much further.

And it’s off to Tom Semple’s field we go

As non-exclusively predicted here yesterday, it’s going to be a double header in Thurles next Saturday, with Waterford playing Offaly at 5pm and the main feature (not unreasonable) between Galway and Cork starting at 7pm – little room for extra time in the Waterford game, so it’s clear nothing has been learned from the fiasco at last year’s Tommy Murphy Cup final. Will the GAA be happy with the draw? Perhaps they’re disappointed that Waterford and Cork won’t cross swords again this year (unless in the final, of course), something that would have enriched the lives of all neutrals and induced a few more coronaries either side of the mouth of the Blackwater. Perhaps they’re happy that things are being shaken up a bit, with Waterford and Offaly meeting in knockout hurling for the first time ever and kindling memories of one of the best clashes in underage hurling ever – well, I thought it was pretty good. No one will fear anyone on the day, which is an event in itself worth celebrating.

The 50/50/90 rule

A corollary of Murphy’s Law is that when presented with a 50/50 choice, you’ll get it wrong 90% of the time. Waterford’s record in All-Ireland draws certainly dovetails with that idea, what with drawing Galway in 1998 and Cork last year. This year we have the choice between Cork and Offaly, and it is no disrespect to the Biffs after their thumping win over Limerick yesterday – pity ye had nothing you could stick on the dressing room wall, Mr Bennis, I’m sure it would have made all the difference – to say that we’d rather play them; you can be certain Offaly would rather play us than Galway. So rest assured that we will draw Cork again. The Maharishi Fattifatbastard foresees it.

Update: don’t give me generals who are brilliant, said Napoleon Bonaparte, give me generals who are lucky. In that case, Davy Fitz would have warmed the cockles of the stumpy Corsican’s heart as the Déise have drawn Offaly. Venue and time TBC and all that, but the whisperings are a double header in Thurles next Saturday.