WAKING UP THE morning after a Munster final goes one of two ways. Enjoy or endure.
The losers immediately say it is all about the All-Ireland now. Shake it off and move on. Take away the pain by minimising the competition. We lost to Limerick in 2013 but bounced back to make the All-Ireland final. There was no huge deep dive on where it all went wrong or what needed to change. It was a case of dusting ourselves off and going again.
A year later it was another story when we beat Limerick. It was Cork’s first Munster title since 2006. The last game in the old Páirc Uí Chaoimh, my first big medal as a player. That day was one of the greatest sporting moments in my life.
Tommy Dickson / INPHO
Tommy Dickson / INPHO / INPHO
Thurles selling out so fast ahead of today is fitting. That is what the Munster final is about. What made 2014 special for us was the fans. There was pandemonium immediately after the final whistle, the red sea rolling down from the stand. They flooded onto the field.
As keen as I was to celebrate with them, at first only one thing was on my mind. I turned and roared to our physio Richie Mooney: ‘mind my hurleys!’ for fear they’d get lost in the surge. Priority number one.
At one stage it was so tightly packed that I felt like it was hard to breathe. We are extremely fortunate in the GAA that supporters can come onto the field and be respectful. It is becoming a rare thing in sport.
During my whole career, I never came across an incident during a pitch invasion. The worst I ever got was a bit of slagging. Supporters on the field are a great thing. A chance for the county to come together. One shared celebration. It stresses how much it means to people and the joy they can extract from it.
I’ll never forget 2019 when we played Westmeath in a preliminary quarter-final. The scenes after the final whistle were unreal. Patrick Horgan scored 10 points and the quality of his performance didn’t end at the final whistle. He stayed out on the field signing autographs for as long as anybody wanted one. It was a welcomed opportunity for fans to meet their heroes.
A few years later was a perfect balance. They allowed the pitch invasion to occur, but the stewards formed a small semicircle under the stand. We got lost in a twister of jubilation and could then step into the eye of the storm to share a moment with the group.
You never put a huge focus on spectators. Even still, you do feed off them. If hurling is the conductor, they are the current. We all realised how sterile the game is without them during lockdown. It was sport for the sake of sport and not sport as we know it.
The game is only an hour and a half. And it is so much more. It is this week’s ticket scramble, the buzz, the injury gossip and constant rumours, the speculation, insinuation, travel calculations, ham sandwich and tea preparation. The extended buildup and chat, all of it make the Munster final a centrepiece of the calendar. Fans feed off the skill of players, but players feed off the anticipation and excitement of fans too.
The crowd played a central part in my standout Munster final memory. In 2017 we had just finished the parade when I started to make my way over to the goal. The place was buzzing. Deafening. So loud that I couldn’t hear our bagman Pat Keane roaring, ‘your sliotars are gone!’
What?
‘Your sliotars are gone.’
He kept saying the same and still I was convinced I’d misheard him. Where could they go?
It turns out a member of the Clare backroom team had fired them into the Killinan End terrace in Thurles. Now I love a packed crowd, but I wasn’t about to try to navigate through it looking for my bag.
The thing was, in the weeks prior to a game I was a glorified magpie. My shiny object was a nice sliotar. I could be in the middle of a drill and a nice ball would come into my hand. Straight away, I’d hit it over to the goalie coach. ‘Mind that.’
Hoggie used to go mad.‘What are you doing? That is a nice ball.’ With a smile, I’d let him know, ‘you will be glad of that Sunday.’
As it happens, I’d another 60 sliotars just like it. Pat was able to get them over to me and it was grand.
Dónal Óg Cusack was involved with Clare at the time. He knew exactly what I was like because I learned from him. Normally they used All-Star sliotars, but they even changed that. I vividly remember picking up a ball before a puck-out and taking a second glance, ‘where the hell did that come from?’
That added to it all. It added to the day. More giddiness. More talk. The Monday after a Munster final is magic. In the pub with the lads you’ve soldiered with, one of the few opportunities where I could see their joy. That was my favourite part of hitting penalties. You never really knew if a save gives your team-mates energy because you can’t see their reaction. If I scored a penalty, I got to see it all. The crowd came to life. Team-mates stand taller. I knew then I brought something to the group.
Tom Maher / INPHO
Tom Maher / INPHO / INPHO
This is a monster game for Limerick and Clare. The game in Thurles is not do-or-die, but a win for one of these neighbours means an injection of life. The talk of an extended gap won’t concern any player. Can you imagine asking anyone taking to Semple Stadium if they really want a Munster medal? You probably don’t want a month gap do ye?
I don’t buy the idea that Clare only need to beat Limerick once this year either. The same talk was around Waterford when they went down in the Gaelic Grounds and look how their year finished. We were often given that Heraclitus quote before games like this.
“No man ever steps in the same river twice. For it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”
Treat it like a one-off game. Today is all that matters now, deal with tomorrow when it comes.
This is a 70/30 match. Limerick just seem to have too much. They are the best team in the country but not unbeatable. Some questions still need answering. Where is Kyle Hayes best suited? Have they cleared up their injuries? Show one small chink in their armour and Clare are primed to take advantage.
One thing is for certain. Whether the Banner roar or the green machine roll on, wild horses won’t keep their loyal followers from invading the field.
Listen to the analysis of Anthony Nash on The42 GAA Weekly, with Fintan O’Toole and Maurice Brosnan, by becoming a member.
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Anthony Nash: Stolen sliotars, pitch invasions and more Munster final memories
WAKING UP THE morning after a Munster final goes one of two ways. Enjoy or endure.
The losers immediately say it is all about the All-Ireland now. Shake it off and move on. Take away the pain by minimising the competition. We lost to Limerick in 2013 but bounced back to make the All-Ireland final. There was no huge deep dive on where it all went wrong or what needed to change. It was a case of dusting ourselves off and going again.
A year later it was another story when we beat Limerick. It was Cork’s first Munster title since 2006. The last game in the old Páirc Uí Chaoimh, my first big medal as a player. That day was one of the greatest sporting moments in my life.
Thurles selling out so fast ahead of today is fitting. That is what the Munster final is about. What made 2014 special for us was the fans. There was pandemonium immediately after the final whistle, the red sea rolling down from the stand. They flooded onto the field.
As keen as I was to celebrate with them, at first only one thing was on my mind. I turned and roared to our physio Richie Mooney: ‘mind my hurleys!’ for fear they’d get lost in the surge. Priority number one.
At one stage it was so tightly packed that I felt like it was hard to breathe. We are extremely fortunate in the GAA that supporters can come onto the field and be respectful. It is becoming a rare thing in sport.
During my whole career, I never came across an incident during a pitch invasion. The worst I ever got was a bit of slagging. Supporters on the field are a great thing. A chance for the county to come together. One shared celebration. It stresses how much it means to people and the joy they can extract from it.
I’ll never forget 2019 when we played Westmeath in a preliminary quarter-final. The scenes after the final whistle were unreal. Patrick Horgan scored 10 points and the quality of his performance didn’t end at the final whistle. He stayed out on the field signing autographs for as long as anybody wanted one. It was a welcomed opportunity for fans to meet their heroes.
A few years later was a perfect balance. They allowed the pitch invasion to occur, but the stewards formed a small semicircle under the stand. We got lost in a twister of jubilation and could then step into the eye of the storm to share a moment with the group.
You never put a huge focus on spectators. Even still, you do feed off them. If hurling is the conductor, they are the current. We all realised how sterile the game is without them during lockdown. It was sport for the sake of sport and not sport as we know it.
The game is only an hour and a half. And it is so much more. It is this week’s ticket scramble, the buzz, the injury gossip and constant rumours, the speculation, insinuation, travel calculations, ham sandwich and tea preparation. The extended buildup and chat, all of it make the Munster final a centrepiece of the calendar. Fans feed off the skill of players, but players feed off the anticipation and excitement of fans too.
The crowd played a central part in my standout Munster final memory. In 2017 we had just finished the parade when I started to make my way over to the goal. The place was buzzing. Deafening. So loud that I couldn’t hear our bagman Pat Keane roaring, ‘your sliotars are gone!’
What?
‘Your sliotars are gone.’
He kept saying the same and still I was convinced I’d misheard him. Where could they go?
It turns out a member of the Clare backroom team had fired them into the Killinan End terrace in Thurles. Now I love a packed crowd, but I wasn’t about to try to navigate through it looking for my bag.
The thing was, in the weeks prior to a game I was a glorified magpie. My shiny object was a nice sliotar. I could be in the middle of a drill and a nice ball would come into my hand. Straight away, I’d hit it over to the goalie coach. ‘Mind that.’
Hoggie used to go mad.‘What are you doing? That is a nice ball.’ With a smile, I’d let him know, ‘you will be glad of that Sunday.’
As it happens, I’d another 60 sliotars just like it. Pat was able to get them over to me and it was grand.
Dónal Óg Cusack was involved with Clare at the time. He knew exactly what I was like because I learned from him. Normally they used All-Star sliotars, but they even changed that. I vividly remember picking up a ball before a puck-out and taking a second glance, ‘where the hell did that come from?’
That added to it all. It added to the day. More giddiness. More talk. The Monday after a Munster final is magic. In the pub with the lads you’ve soldiered with, one of the few opportunities where I could see their joy. That was my favourite part of hitting penalties. You never really knew if a save gives your team-mates energy because you can’t see their reaction. If I scored a penalty, I got to see it all. The crowd came to life. Team-mates stand taller. I knew then I brought something to the group.
This is a monster game for Limerick and Clare. The game in Thurles is not do-or-die, but a win for one of these neighbours means an injection of life. The talk of an extended gap won’t concern any player. Can you imagine asking anyone taking to Semple Stadium if they really want a Munster medal? You probably don’t want a month gap do ye?
I don’t buy the idea that Clare only need to beat Limerick once this year either. The same talk was around Waterford when they went down in the Gaelic Grounds and look how their year finished. We were often given that Heraclitus quote before games like this.
“No man ever steps in the same river twice. For it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”
Treat it like a one-off game. Today is all that matters now, deal with tomorrow when it comes.
This is a 70/30 match. Limerick just seem to have too much. They are the best team in the country but not unbeatable. Some questions still need answering. Where is Kyle Hayes best suited? Have they cleared up their injuries? Show one small chink in their armour and Clare are primed to take advantage.
One thing is for certain. Whether the Banner roar or the green machine roll on, wild horses won’t keep their loyal followers from invading the field.
Listen to the analysis of Anthony Nash on The42 GAA Weekly, with Fintan O’Toole and Maurice Brosnan, by becoming a member.
To embed this post, copy the code below on your site
GAA Hurling Munster Final Semple Stadium