January 15,  O’Toole’s, Blunden Drive

Probably more interest is focused this weekend on the documentary to be shown on RTE covering Dublin’s championship year in 2005 than on events on the pitch. Lots of sound-bite trailers and at least one of the Sunday’s runs a major piece. Sounds interesting and we’ll watch it but for the moment the fancy is more interested in what’s going to happen in the future.

Ancient Greeks went to consult the oracle at Delphi. We go to see O’Byrne Cup games and challenge matches in muddy fields. It’s back to O’Tooles for the quarter final against Wexford. It’s Paul Bealin’s second match in charge of Wexford and his first against the sky blue in which he won an All Ireland in 1995.

Bealin was a “neighbour’s child” and when I was in Portlaoise his father asked my Da if I could make a mirror with Paul’s photo on it. Being an intellectual of course I couldn’t but I did manage to contract it out to Matt Hennessy in return for food. It was a very basic economy. A bit like North Korea except the speeches were longer.

Anyway, the Bealins were delighted with the mirror and I was sent in the jersey that Paul had worn in the replay of the 1993 League final in which Dublin beat Donegal by ten points to six, thus exacting revenge for the previous September’s All Ireland defeat. Well, not quite.

The jersey became a treasured possession and I wore it on the day that the Dubs finally overcame their demons in September 1995. I steadfastly refused to buy one of the new jerseys that appeared each year and it survived up to 2000 when I made the grievous error of lending it to my sister for a match in Navan.

My constant requests for it to be returned met for some weeks with evasion and lies until eventually the truth emerged. She had thrown it out. When I was able to speak I attempted to reason with her. How could she? “But sure it was old and had blood on it”. Old and had blood on it. Like the fucking Turin Shroud maybe. Or the flag that had flown over the GPO in 1916.  We no longer speak of it.

Out in O’Toole’s it is cold and the rain is moderate to good. The wind again blows from the south east but maybe more from the east. Dublin have it in the first half. The bad day has brought out a smaller crowd than was here to see UCD. Maybe a thousand. Ciara is cold but we shelter her under the railing. Anyway, she’s happy because she has the digital camera to capture the action.

On paper Wexford are the stronger, and Mattie Forde is a surprise last minute inclusion. Of the team beaten by Dublin in the Leinster championship, nine start and Red Barry is introduced as a sub before half time. The Dublin starting line-up has six changes from the UCD match. Only the full forward line remains unaltered and Barry Cahill moves to full-back, a position he excelled in for Leinster against Ulster in the Railway Cup final.

Dublin, with the wind blowing somewhat diagonally to their advantage, begin better mainly thanks to their more direct approach in the slippery conditions. Wexford’s short passing is not the optimal tactic for this sort of a day. Louth referee Gabriel McKenny is strict on holding and pushing under the kick outs and this favours Dublin. Mossy is on form and kicks four frees in the first half.

Wexford briefly lead when Forde converts a penalty awarded after John Hudson blazed wide while apparently being impeded by Paul Copeland in the Dublin goal. It is only a temporary hiatus and Dublin lead by five points at the break. Alan Brogan is covering acres of space and taking some nice points. Kevin Bonner scores two mighty points from out on the right and might have had a goal as well.

Wexford do better in the second half but mainly because the wind plays havoc with kick-outs and long passes. They gradually eat into the Dublin lead but the Dubs three points are enough to maintain the gap and leave Wexford hunting goals when points might have been the better option. Daithi O’Callaghan might have goaled for the Dubs and at the very end Barry Cahill throws himself in front of Padraig Curtis to deny what might have been a winning Wexford goal.

There had been a number of free-for-alls during the second half, centred on the right corner where Colm Morris was putting himself about a bit. Morris later claimed to have been punched by Paul Clarke who had come on the field to speak to Tomás Quinn. We couldn’t see what was happening as the sun was in our eyes and it was far away. Ciara is disappointed as the melee would make a good photograph. She may well end up covering some tropical war.

We are pleased and the warmth of the clubhouse as well as a few pints and sandwiches add to a general feeling of well-being. The consensus is that it was a good win for an inexperienced Dublin team, and that the new fellas have plenty of fight. “Maybe too much”, says Phil. “Better too much than too little”, we respond. If only we had consulted the Oracle.

The documentary about the Dubs was shown on RTE 1 on Monday January 16. I was glad I didn’t keep Ciara up to see it. Apart from being a school night, the language was a bit too ‘earthy’ for delicate ears. Mind you this is the same child who nearly had us banned from matches when she was four. We were watching the Cork Dublin league final at home on television when Ciara demanded that the referee “blow the effin whistle”. Mammy was there and seemed to think that I was somehow at fault. I tried to persuade her that the Erin’s Isle camogie nursery was no place for the faint-hearted.

Nor is the Dublin football team by all accounts. We were given some flavour of the rigorous training regime although I have yet to hear a convincing reason for the ice baths. Poor old Mark Vaughan and Paul Casey looked distinctly uncomfortable and I imagine the language was even earthier in the absence of cameras.

The camera captured many interesting snapshots of a championship season that ranged between the exhilaration of the Leinster final victory to the deathly atmosphere in the dressing room after the defeat by Tyrone in the replay. In between we had nail-biting climaxes and serious injuries that in one case finished Darren Homan’s playing career, but which in Stephen O’Shaughnessy’s case was overcome in an amazingly short period.

It’s mid January and I’m sitting on the edge of the armchair. Christ I wish it was the Summer again.

The leitmotif was the rebuilding of confidence and morale after the disappointments of 2003 and 2004. In those years the team had lost matches in a manner in which far worse Dublin teams never did. They appeared to give up. Probably Dave Billings summed it up best when he spoke about them “lying down for no man”. Tradition has been restored.

In his book Dessie Farrell defines the Dublin tradition as “defiance on the pitch, deference off it”. It is about respect and non-arrogance and it shows in the attitudes of the players, as anyone who has had any contact with them will attest. A modest bunch of lads that you could safely bring home to your mother. Unless she happened to be wearing a Meath jersey.

It was interesting to see too that contrary to myth, Pillar (something to do with caterpillars apparently!) does not fuck players out of it in the dressing room. Even when things are going badly, he is a reasonable man talking to intelligent adults. Pointing out weaknesses and encouraging greater effort. Not a man who is living out his ersatz fantasies through others.

And best of all, on that dark sunny August day when the Dubs went down to a better Tyrone team there were no recriminations and no bawling out in the dressing room. They gathered in a circle and Pillar told them that he was proud of them. We all are.