Dublin are brilliant.
Paul Mannion’s not even making the team, for God’s sake.
They have the best ‘keeper the game has ever seen. They have the fastest, most direct midfield in the country. When he controls his aggression, Diarmuid Connolly’s talent is unmatched.
As a unit, their attack is like nothing Gaelic Football has ever seen before. Not their six forwards, all 15 of them contribute to what is a simply swashbuckling set-up.
Athletically, the rest of the island can’t compete. Aesthetically, it is just a pleasure to watch Dublin play football.
And yet it’s not all they’re about.
This team isn’t a crowd of sunshine boys. They don’t need the hard ground, or the summer sun, or the manners of another side letting them play football. They can roll their sleeves up and mix it with the best of them.
They can take the knocks, give the hits, and dig deeper at the well when they have to. Every single time, it’s Jonny Cooper at the forefront of those Dublin qualities.
It’s Jonny Cooper on the ground, crawling for the ball. It’s Jonny Cooper hanging off men and dishing out shoulders, winning breaking balls and driving through high challenges.
During Saturday’s quarter-final win before Paul Mannion lit the place up with a simply stunning goal, Donegal were on the rampage. They had their tails up and they were starting to sniff a bit of hesitancy in the 14-man opposition who had been ploughing along without Diarmuid Connolly.
Ryan McHugh was finding more freedom and he started to drive forward again, evading challenges and looking dangerous. He comes down the left at an array of knots but he’s stopped dead in his tracks. He’s actually sent crashing backwards and downwards as he bounces off the immovable chest of Jonny Cooper.
The Dublin man takes an awful butt to the head but he runs off after the next Donegal player and puts in another challenges. Only when the play stops, like he forced it to by single-handedly halting all of the Ulster men’s momentum, he stops to think that he might need to get his eye treated.
Blood is streaming from his brow, you can almost see a hole in his face and, at this stage, his blue jersey is steeping in rich red liquid. He jogs off down the tunnel to get stitched up and he can’t get back onto the field quickly enough – number 30 on his back, arms swinging again, bodies bruising, just like he never left.
For all the good that everyone sees in Dublin, all the ability and free-flowing football – like the score Cooper hit just before that clash – it’s their passion and their work rate, their pure grit and savagery for the cause that is always overlooked.
The like of Cooper and Philly McMahon take too much stick. They’re confrontational and they’re in your face and they’re damn physical. So what? The best of them are.
Every one of us are like animals when we have to do it for our clubs, when we have to do it for a cause. The greatest defenders are remembered for their ruthlessness and their uncompromising nature. It’s that steel and that primal attitude to go out and do anything to win back ball that means these lads will go down as winners. As legends.
The whole way through the Dublin team, there’s a bite there that their immeasurable talent almost detracts from.
This side would do anything for their county and it shouldn’t be criticised. When they step onto a football field, it’s kill or be killed and losing is not an option in the capital’s changing room.
So like them or hate them, rate him or slate him, nothing should be taken away from Dublin or from Jonny Cooper.
The heart and the character that he plays with deserves nothing but respect. When it comes down to it, every single county in Ireland would have him on their side tomorrow.
When it comes down to it, it’s always Jonny Cooper that’s there; plugging the gaps, making the tackles, and using his body as a sacrifice for the cause. It’s always Jonny Cooper there doing whatever he needs to do for Dublin.
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