'If you’re good enough, you’re old enough. I’d wager Kobe would agree'

IN contrast to the previous week’s low energy and enthusiasm, our little crew set out for Clones on Sunday with springs in our steps.

Maybe we’d been a bit discombobulated the weekend prior with the unfamiliar venue, or maybe we just knew in our hearts we were in for a skinning, but we all agreed, we were in no hurry to see Letterkenny again for quite a while. 

Either way, the Clones trip felt very different from the outset, but surely not even the most optimistic man on the planet, Andy Moran, could have anticipated just how memorable an occasion lay ahead.

It had been clear since the 26 had been named (a delightful development this year to see the subs in advance) that the gaffer meant business and is not above being ruthless when required.  

Arriving at the ground with over 90 minutes to spare, determined to avoid the traffic headaches of the previous week, our cross-country route led us to a prime parking spot approximately 90 seconds’ walk from the venue.

A steady queue had of course already formed. We met a Monaghan woman walking towards us, away from the ground. “The pitch is that way,” one of ours helpfully offered, pointing behind her.

“I figured there was no point going in at all”, she retorted, quick as a fox. “Sure ye are going to hammer us out the gate!” 

FORTUNATE AND BLESSED

A Monaghan steward at the gate wished us luck. “Do you really mean that?” we asked.

“That fella needs luck”, he retorted, pointing to the man of the group, “on his own for the day with ye dolls!”

The man of the group is, of course, both fortunate and blessed, but felt even more so to have his plight so thoughtfully acknowledged. 

As we took our seats towards the front of the covered area of the stand, we cast an eye skywards. The sunshine that had accompanied us north continued to beam down upon us.

In a fit of reckless abandon, jackets were discarded. Someone was heard looking for Factor 50. It was going to be a good day.

Word went around the stand that the tea in Clones was second to none, so we had to conduct a taste test. (Verdict: Good, but MacHale Park retains its crown). 

No changes to the starting 15. Monaghan, meanwhile, ominously, were forced to start without their talismanic goalkeeper, Rory Beggan.

Andy Moran spoke afterwards about how difficult it had been for him to return to Clones, to a place and team he knew so well, and he will surely have spared a thought for manager Gabriel Bannigan and his colleagues at the final whistle.

Because no-one could quite have anticipated just what would unfold for the next 70 minutes. 

PIGGERY MASTERCLASS

It started innocuously enough. Mayo opted to play with the wind. For the first few minutes, they laboured, and we fidgeted, nervously.

It started to pour rain. When Ryan O’Donoghue misfired to send his penalty - earned brilliantly by Darragh Beirne - over the bar, we chewed our lips and wondered if the Farneymen might smell blood. 

They – or we - hadn’t reckoned with Bob Tuohy. Delivering a “piggery” masterclass at midfield, he nailed the jersey onto his back.

Nor Jordan Flynn proving that he is back on song and mad for work.

Nor Sam Callinan marauding from the half-back line, nor Conor Loftus conducting the orchestra from six, nor Fergal Boland taking on two shots in quick succession, one from the outside the ’50 and one from Mauritius to send us eleven clear at the break. 

Seventeen points on the board should have been cause enough for celebration, but we had a goal from Aidan O’Shea to await, and the introduction from the bench with the young man whose name will be on the lips of every GAA journalist, pundit and armchair wag for months.

MCDONALD A POINT

Rarely has there been a debut more sensational than this. As the rain bucketed down, no-one really noticed or cared. 

McDonald, a shot, McDonald, a point. 

McDonald a shot, McDonald, a two-pointer. 

McDonald, a shot, McDonald a GOOOAALLL. 

A goal for the ages, at that, though his celebration afterwards is what will live longest in the memory. The exuberance. The grin.

The rolling back of the years to that finger in the air we associate so closely with his father. At just 18, the thunderous roar that greeted his introduction was disconcerting, worrying, precisely because he is so young.

There is so much expectation there, but he wears it lightly. If you’re good enough, you’re old enough, they say. I’d wager Kobe would agree. 

At the final whistle, he and his brother embraced, and the elder shepherded the younger, puppy-like, down the tunnel away from the autograph hunters, journalist mics and photographer lens.

He had school in the morning, after all. The rest of us were left to absorb the enormity of what we had just witnessed. 

DETAILED ANALYSIS

Afterwards, behind the stand, a few of us stood chatting. Two older gentlemen joined us. “Kobe’s the man!” announced one, looking around at the group, grinning from ear to ear. A statement he repeated several times, before a detailed analysis of every score ensued, and they then took their leave.  “Did anyone know those men?” I asked. No! Everyone thought someone else did. They just wanted to talk about Kobe to anyone who looked like they might listen. 

The paths were deserted as we made our way back to the car. The girl we’d met on the way in rolled down her car window. “I knew I should just have gone home!”, she lamented.

Monaghan will have better days.

As, we hope, will Mayo, on days when more is at stake than safety from the drop. For Sunday, there was little to do but head for home (these early throw-ins are a joy) with Donegal and Armagh on the wireless en route.

Des Cahill sounded shocked with the result from Clones. 30 points for Mayo? We didn’t know football scoreboards went that high.

Andy, when interviewed, deflected the Kobe questions with wonderful diplomacy and magnanimity towards his other young players. His dealings with the media so far have been refreshingly exemplary and engaging.

Our next opponents, the Orchard County are desperate for points. In Mayo, we have an abundance, both of points on the board and talking points. Long may both last.