A day when 82,179 people all held their breath at the same time
There’s something different about Dublin city on All-Ireland hurling final day. Fans making their way to Croke Park are more anxious. There’s less craic and joking among supporters. It’s almost like to mix with the other crowd would be to betray your own, to somehow put in jeopardy the result of what is yet to come.
Kilkenny fans are worried. Tipperary, the side that ended the five-in-a-row dream in 2010, are back looking to stop their Noreside neighbours completing a clean sweep after League and Leinster success.
But all that tension and anxiety is outside the camp. Inside, as ever, both managers are unflustered by the hype and expectation surrounding the day.
The green surface of Croke Park looks like it has been freshly unrolled from a carpet-fitters as sunshine takes over on a fresh (code for cold) September afternoon
It takes time to fill up and a crowd of a couple of thousand see the Kilkenny minors dispose of a Limerick side that came with some much expectation but found that reputation counts for little on the first Sunday in September. Winners are not born, they are made and the Cats have the blueprint for moulding and casting men of iron better than anyone.
The superstitious in the crowd are either delighted or somewhat concerned with a Minor win for various reasons. For traditional fans it’s one half of a double, a good omen, a confidence boost for the seniors. For Tipperary folk some will now feel ‘let Kilkenny have the minor,we’re here for the big prize’. Some don’t care so focused are they on 3.30.
Working on the day I’m walking back from the interview area under the Cusack Stand as the senior game begins.
We can hear a murmur of what goes on above our heads as the crowd cheers early on-but for what or whom we do not know.
The deep throb of a crowd baying for sacrifice to the hurling gods reminds me of what it must have been like for gladiators in Rome at the Coliseum. You hear the thunder,but nothing can prepare you for the sensory overload as you emerge out into the light to gaze at 30 men fighting it out in a pristine field in the heart of Dublin city. Dublin is ancient Rome for a day, for an hour.
The presence of Hawk-Eye bookends the game. The opening minute sees a point from Colin Fennelly deemed good enough to trouble the scorekeeper. How could anyone guess how crucial the role of the all-seeing, all-knowing technology would be later in the evening.
Tipperary draw first blood through Bonner Maher, his goal into the Hill starting off a chorus of ‘Tipp,Tipp,Tipp’ ringing around Croke Park. Kilkenny have no such chant, syllables or phonetics not allowing them the chance for a snappy response.
Their response instead comes from Richie Power, whose goal allows the Cats a two-point advantage at half time, 1-13 to 1-11.
The 15 minutes of half-time allows supporters to calm nerves and untangle their hands from the scrunched up match programme in their grip. Analysis of what has occurred seems almost pointless. Soak it up,enjoy it. Hurling played at its most fierce, at its most free by two committed wonderful sides.
The second half bursts into life as TJ Reid scores a wonderful goal to open a five-point lead with barely a minute of the second half gone. The chants from Tipperary are now less defiant, almost as if they know what is coming next. Yet despite Kilkenny scoring a second goal through Richie Power they can’t shake off their neighbours.
Tipperary are awarded two penalties but fail to score either. Even without Anthony Nash being present his name will be included as part of the script for the final – his presence making itself felt as the rule change is blamed more than poor technique for the absence of green flags for Tipperary.
‘Hen for Ten’ has been a war cry for Kilkenny supporters for weeks building up to the final but the Ballyhale legend sees no action until 67 minutes with Kilkenny leading by two. Is it a swansong or is he being brought on as a closer to see out the game?
He makes little impression as the sides draw level through two points from John O’Dwyer either side of Jason Forde. The roar for what would ultimately be the final point of an epic 54-score epic drawing an incredible response from the crowd.
Momentum. Kilkenny try and arrest the slide. Brian Hogan, a warrior, decides that he must take up the mantle of repelling the Premier hordes bearing down on goal. But he fouls the ball. Maybe Hawk-Eye could tell us if its for steps or a harsh decision. Either way the scene is set. 90 metres and some change and ‘Bubbles’ lines it up.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OYxH2RgOT9s
Barry Kelly decides that no mere mortal can decide the outcome. A computer cannot be chased down a tunnel if a decision is right or wrong.
Croke Park is caught up in a vortex of air as the collectve held breath of over 82,000 people is expelled into the Dublin sky. Half in joy and half in exasperation at the finest of margins.
The atmosphere is surreal. One team buried rises from the dead while a side so full of life with three minutes to go is almost flat-lining coming off the field.
Down to the post match briefing and both manager’s happy to have another day . However the contrast in player’s moods is striking. Kilkenny march onto their bus without a word as Tipperary players are happy to talk to the media.
Supporters spill out into the Dublin evening with a mix of confusion and contentment that ‘we’ll get them the next day’.
For a third year in a row the All-Ireland final has ended in a draw but it’s clear that not even ancient Rome or the Colisuem would have seen such drama in its time.
Surely the replay can’t be as good.
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