Ulster SFC/Down v Tyrone: Keith Duggan on why Down's reputation as the aristocrats and radicals of Gaelic football, dating back to the 1950s, stands strong
Long before Armagh and Tyrone were deemed to bring to football a fierce and distinct northern soul, there was Down.
Gaelic Games have become so bright and dizzy in recent years, with championship extravaganzas and child-genius players bursting through with every new season that the games mirror society in general in catering for short-attention spans.
Constant progression and betterment is the favoured philosophy throughout the GAA now, from its fledgling marketers to the elite managers who admit to being scared stiff of standing still. Tradition is regarded as a dangerous ally, a stick for other teams to beat you with.
But when Down's faithful gather at the fortress of Healy Park tomorrow, their sense of expectation and entitlement will be palpable. In Ulster, Down football is something akin to royalty and its people know it.
While the Gaelic nation at large bowed and trembled before the earth-quaking force of the achievements of Armagh and Tyrone, Down did not blink. It will take more than a neighbouring All-Ireland victory here or there to challenge Down's position as the first of Ulster's northern counties.
Across the province, Down's reputation as the aristocrats and radicals of Gaelic football stands strong and it is why no local opposition ever regards them as an easy touch. Down football sometimes appears to move as indiscriminately and devastatingly as a tornado, coming out of nothing from the Mourne mountains and sweeping across the province.
As Donegal's Martin McHugh said after his team got caught by a moderately-regarded Down team on a broiling Ulster final Sunday in 1991, "We were annihilated." Down, of course, went on to claim the All-Ireland that year, setting a template for three more years of spectacular Ulster revolution.
But the 1990s were merely the Second Coming. The genesis of the county's near hypnotic effect on the imagination of the Gaelic football establishment dates back to the late 1950s. Then a group of prominent football men like Maurice Hayes, Barney Carr, Brian Denvir and Danny Flynn formed a tight and cohesive senior selection committee. They were convinced Down football needed a dynamic back room if it was to build on its 1958 Ulster final appearance (a loss by 1-11 to 2-4 to Derry).
"I think the reason we probably got away with it is that the county board in general thought we were a bunch of lunatics," laughed Hayes earlier this week.
"But we were adamant that we could win an All-Ireland in five years. There was no real ambition or confidence in the prevailing system. The situation practised was that the county board managed the county team, if that could be described as such.
"Club football had been built-up in the 1940s and '50s so we took a group of people and basically worked them through phases. Defeat was not regarded as a disaster. We were prepared for that. In fact, the whole process was accelerated because we drew the All-Ireland semi-final with Offaly in 1960. That took us back to the same stage the following week instead of the next season."
Thoroughness and patience were the keys under this new committee. Each member had a specific function. Carr was team manager, Flynn the trainer. Alone among GAA teams, Down had a dedicated team doctor, Martin Walsh. An association that began with that historic 1960 All-Ireland lasted until the All-Ireland minor championship of 1999, Down's last national championship success.
"I had played in the 1940s and 1950s and realised that the medical attention given to injuries was not really sufficient," he recalled from his surgery this week.
"Sprains and tears were just strapped up and players told to get on with it. Through my medical career, I developed an interest and went to places like Lilleshall and Loughborough to try and learn more. But those Down training sessions in Downpatrick and Castlewellan were terrific - it was collective training and a great emphasis on ball work."
To break the Ulster fixation that probably mitigated against all teams in the province, the Down management sought challenge games against the cream of southern opposition, taking on Louth and Dublin in challenge games in preparation for the 1959 season. They also met Galway in Wembley that May for the final of the Whitsun tournament.
Jack Mahon still recalls seeing Down run onto the field and being mesmerised by their distinctive red and black jerseys, suddenly realising it was the first time he had lain eyes on a shirt that would soon become synonymous with All-Ireland success. He stayed spellbound throughout a joy of a game watched by 32,000 people, which the Ulster team won by 3-9 to 4-4.
"It was one of the most breathtaking games of my football career," Mahon wrote in his 1991 book, A History of Gaelic Football (Gill and McMillan). He has not revised that opinion since.
"Prior to that, beyond Cavan, northern teams didn't make all that much of an impression. Armagh had put up a great show in 1953 but there was something about the way Down just arrived on the scene, so full of flamboyance and complete that was just magical. James McCartan was the soul of it, I think. And they had the best half-forward line ever - Seán O'Neill, McCartan and Paddy Doherty. Doherty was like a piston. They just had it."
That August, Down duly claimed their first Ulster title, absolutely destroying the fading gentry from Cavan on a scoreline of 2-16 to 0-7. Galway awaited in the All-Ireland semi-final and the crafty, experienced Connacht champions - this was their fifth consecutive semi-final appearance - neutralised Down's fast and expressive attacking game. Down had stayed in Butlins on the eve of the game where, as Mahon noted, "they were probably half starved".
From then on, Down teams have travelled to Dublin on the morning of All-Ireland games. A few years back, playing golf with McCartan, Mahon reminded him he had scored a goal in every game that summer except against Galway.
"Aye, and I woulda scored against youse too if you had have let go of my hand for half a minute," McCartan replied.
But as Hayes outlined, that defeat was in accordance with the five-year plan.
In 1960, Down got ahead of themselves, claiming their first league title and then consolidating their Ulster prowess at Cavan's expense. They enlisted Meath great Peter McDermott after drawing with Offaly in a tense All-Ireland semi-final and retained his wise, calming presence for that September's shimmering All-Ireland final, when 88,000 watched Down saunter towards victory against Kerry, of all counties, on a score of 2-10 to 0-8.
On just their second time out of the province, they became the first football team to carry the Sam Maguire across the Border. Further championships followed in 1961 and 1968.
"My lasting regret is that we didn't win three in a row," says Hayes. "We should have won in 1962, I am convinced of that. We went on a tour and I suppose the general perception was that we were off in the flesh pots of America but the truth was we were playing regular, serious football out there and came back well prepared. We played very well against Fermanagh but just staggered against Cavan. We got caught out by Peter Pritchard and that was that. It was frustrating."
Down retreated as conclusively as they had announced themselves, bothering their public with just three more Ulster titles in 1971, '78 and '81 before that bold and tantalising display that left Martin McHugh and the rest of Donegal in deep despair.
It must be remembered Donegal were touted as Ulster's coming team that summer, tentatively fancied to make waves in a dance hall full of ageing movers. But the manner and frightening pace of the Down game killed that optimism stone dead and almost splintered the framework of the Donegal team which would make history the following season. Pete McGrath says now that although his 1991 team were conscious of the 1960s legacy,it was never articulated in the dressingroom.
"You never had to. These were Down players and they just had an inherent appreciation of this glorious past. Even for myself, growing up and playing football and meeting schools from Armagh or Antrim, you got the feeling that in a certain regard, Down football was thought of as superior."
In retrospect, that 1991 Down team were a classic football team and like their predecessors were blessed with enough quality to have possibly pushed for a three in a row. Instead, they won two championships and arguably helped Donegal and Derry take in enough fuel to mount successful and historic championship bids in their own right.
And like the 1960s model, McGrath's team played lovely, sweeping, daring football and were physically and spiritually as hard as nails.
"I think there is a clear picture in Down about the way we like Down football to be played, McGrath says.
"Both those eras played expansively and I like to think there was a variety to the game. I suppose the 1991 group epitomised the brand of football we espoused and that the 15 minutes early in the second half against Meath (they numbed the famed and puritan Royal county defence with an attacking orgy of 1-5 from play in 14 minutes in the All-Ireland final of that year) was as close to perfection as we got."
Paddy O'Rourke, the present manager, lifted the Sam Maguire that afternoon. All of Ulster could only watch and wonder. Down could spend years locked away like JD Salinger and then, out of the blue, produce another classic. Who could not be envious?
Another decade has passed since the 1994 triumph, the grace note for McGrath and a stunning managerial defeat in that he had to piece together and revive so many of the elements that created the 1991 rush.
And although Down have been largely quiet, they still bite every now and then, as Tyrone, in particular, have learned to their cost. It was no coincidence that Tyrone's most hair-raising moment on their 2003 All-Ireland escapade came courtesy of O'Rourke's young team in that year's Ulster final.
"I think there will always be a feeling that Down are capable of mounting these smash-and-grab raids," chuckles McGrath.
"I suppose we come from nowhere and are perhaps guilty of disappearing again also. But that element possibly does make other counties view us with some trepidation and even within the county, there is always the feeling that the team could make something unforeseen happen on any given year."
So-so in the National League and sparkling in the Under-21 All-Ireland championship, O'Rourke's 2005 vintage presents at the very least a troublesome question mark for the lords of contemporary Ulster.
Mahon watched them come back from the dead against Galway in the league in Ballinasloe, conjuring up a series of typically imaginative goals to comfortably claim a game that looked beyond them.
It was only an end-of-season mid-table league game but there was something about Down - the unlikely flash of inspiration here and there - that caught his eye. Part of that was an old football man's knowing but it also came back to the instantaneous respect he felt for the Down men on that distant Wembley field.
"Down," he said, "is the flagship of the northern fleet."
When Galway and Down met most recently in the unorthodox and thrilling All-Ireland Under-21 final, it was clear the Ulster team have a new generation of forwards who know the path to goal. They were outgunned that day but history shows that early summer defeats to Galway bodes well for Down.
And it has given football people in the county reason to wait and see, reason to travel into Omagh with something of the devilment of old in their souls.
"Over the past two months, I think a lot of Down people believe that the gap has narrowed and that the team are travelling in the right direction," reckons McGrath.
It has been a long time since the great 1960s team met up. "At funerals, unfortunately," said Hayes. "We buried Pat Rice not so long ago. But it was and remains a close team."
Soon, the day will come around for the All-Ireland teams of McGrath's vintage to start planning for reunions and marvel at how quickly the years pass. But many of the celebrated men of both those eras will journey into Tyrone tomorrow, nonchalantly expecting the unexpected. At least, they are not writing off the first surprise of the championship. "No," agrees Hayes. "I would never rule out a Down team." In Ulster, people seldom do.
