Ciaran Kilkenny: as loyal as a Yeoman and as faithful to the Dublin cause
Declan Bogue
LAST YEAR, HE was at it in Dr Hyde Park as Dublin and Mayo came down the stretch in the final group game in the neutral venue.
A point down, Dublin needed something. They turned to their big dogs. Stephen Cluxton took a kickout and landed it down on top of Ciaran Kilkenny. The Castleknock man made the catch and mark.
He played to Jack McCaffrey who scorched up through the pitch and the ball ended up in the hands of Cormac Costello who slipped, then regained his footing to fist over.
A draw. Dublin would top the group. They did what was needed to put the feet up for a week.
Fair enough, they went out in the next game to Dublin, but Kilkenny held his end up.
Accepting the man of the match award on Saturday night from the GAA+ crew in recognition of his display against Galway, he talked of generalities, then deflected by talking about Galway in general, and the great culture that is attached to the town and the county.
That’s the thing about Kilkenny. When he was in the mood, he was always willing to show just how much of the world he took in and absorbed. He has stuff going for him.
In a few weeks’ time, he will be 32. He has 12 Leinster titles and eight All-Ireland titles. He’s been on the go since 2012, ever since he gave it four months with Hawthorn and decided Aussie Rules wasn’t for him.
At this stage of his career, everything about him oozes fidelity to the Dublin cause. As a player, there was none better at eating the clock or putting the ball in the fridge on the big days. Now that it’s gotten much more frantic, he hasn’t shown any signs of slippage.
His self-sacrifice is Yeomanry-like.
Dublin might not win another All-Ireland with Kilkenny featuring. But with so many having left the stage over the winter, and other smelling the blood in the water, there is something heroic about Kilkenny and Stephen Cluxton remaining on, sailing a straight path, drenched by the billows.
This long, hot summer is scrambling minds from Clones to Salthill to Portlaoise. Things are happening. Control is almost impossible now in Gaelic football and it is all the better.
When both teams headed for the orange slices at half time, there was a glowing report for Dublin. Never mind that Galway had been unlucky not to have bagged two goals in the first half with Cluxton stopping Shane Walsh from point-blank and Cian Hernon having a shot smuggled off the line.
Discount too, that Dublin’s goal came in a bizarre exchange where Liam Silke and Sean Kelly deliberated over taking a loose ball, Cormac Costello pounced and then rifled a shot between goalkeeper Connor Gleeson’s legs.
If Galway had found a way to win, then they would have enjoyed the status of being the team that can still win, even when not playing terribly well. But watercooler reaction barely ever strays beyond being outcome-based.
Most top teams are working off a phase of play every two minutes. From 34 phases, Galway took 22 shots; 65%. That’s not great. Dublin were a bit better; 36 phases and 26 shots, 72%.
Even at that, neither were nearly as hectic as Armagh and Donegal were in last weekend’s Ulster final.
Galway drew level after some John Maher heroics in getting a vital touch before their second goal and soon pointing. There was 60 minutes on the clock.
A minute later, Peter Cooke had a chance. He skewed it wide. Ciaran Kilkenny then set up Costello for Dublin to take the lead again.
With Dublin trying to run the clock down, they had a loose pass that was feasted upon by Matthew Thompson. Referee David Gough brought the ball forward 50 metres for an infraction. John Daly picked out Matthew Tierney for a point and the whole contest came down to the final play.
Galway were looking at Kilkenny. They had seen this boxset, the spin-offs and sequels and listened to a few podcasts around it. They knew what was coming next.
A few hung out in Kilkenny’s area. Whatever was going to happen, he wasn’t rising and claiming it like some hero. Nor Peader ÓCofaigh-Byrne who had given them a mountain of problems.
So instead, Stephen Cluxton pinged the ball out practically chest-height to Tom Lahiff, who was completely unmarked.
The ball went through the phases and it was Lahiff again who appeared like a David Copperfield act, inside shooting range. He received it and had time to turn, glance at the posts, steady himself, order an ice cream from the promenade, and stroke over. The Dubs aren’t bate yet.
The final word is this; there is a mountain of work to do to win this All-Ireland football championship now.
We watched as Paul Conroy never really got into this game, dropping short an early two-point attempt, being blocked down by Theo Clancy and being replaced for the last 20 minutes when he is really needed.
We watched Con O’Callaghan drop deep as a Libero on Galway kickouts and dictate play from back there. But eventually he got a bang and had to go off after 45 minutes.
Shane Walsh spent the evening being frustrated by Davy Byrne which appears to be an exquisite torture for many of the glamourous attackers in Gaelic football.
In the very move that led to O’Callaghan being injured, Byrne had the ball, had a little solo and go and took off the pitch as if he was outrunning lava. Walsh couldn’t live with it and was off soon after.
There are a lot of teams that are going to find the going tough over the next few weeks. There is no let-up. Seeding has seen to that.
The pace this game is played at? Hamstrings are still made of flesh and muscle. Achilles are still as susceptible to damage. Calves can only take so much pounding like hooves on rock-hard pitches.
Still, nobody gives Dublin a chance.
But with those players?
With that stadium?
That crowd?
Hmmm.
The 42
