Kilkenny have this racket all tied up
Match-time and Ger Canning told us the “floodlights are on and the sun is out”, suggesting the GAA aren’t much in to this energy-conserving lark, and there wasn’t much evidence of David Burke being in to energy-conserving either when he scored two goals in a giddy couple of minutes for Galway.
We were hardly in to the second line of Kilkenny’s obituary when Richie Power did his goal-busting thing, the blizzard of goals leaving all concerned just a tad dizzy.
Half-time and Galway had scored divil a point from play, but Ger Loughnane comforted their supporters by telling them there was “no reason to panic . . . yet.”
(Competition time. “You could be heading off to one of the world’s most amazing cities,” Michael told us, Tomás’s face saying, “Sure, I live in Cork already, like.”)
Second half. Oh Lord. Galway were in trouble now . . . but they didn’t realise they were in for this kind of trouble.
You know, in many senses Kilkenny are the Martina Navratilova of our day. Remember? We used to say ‘yeah, yeah, you’re brill, but . . . tell us something we don’t know.” And we half-pined for someone to take her on, so that the contest wouldn’t be done and dusted by half-ish time. It wasn’t, need it be said, Martina’s fault that she was largely unbeatable at her peak, but, still.
“They’re not loved, but they’re admired,” said Loughnane at full-time, reckoning Kilkenny were Martina-esque, and it’s true, they’re so ridiculously good we very probably won’t appreciate them until they’ve moved on.
Michael Duignan, meanwhile, reminded us of the serious injuries Henry Shefflin has endured through his career, of the shoulder and – twice – cruciate ligament variety, leaving you wondering if the fella would have achieved anything of note if he’d stayed fit. Just the nine medals.
Shefflin could probably have concurred with Nicolas Colsaerts’ summing up of his Ryder Cup (Day One) experience: “There are no tools you can use out there. You’ve just got to go with what you have in your pants.”
More than plenty, as it proved.
All the rest can hope is that Henry and Brian opt now to take up cutting the lawn or playing golf. If they don’t, well, see you next September for the drive for . . . ten.