You know the way people are sometimes asked what superpower they’d most like to have? More often than not, they opt for the ability to fly, but clearly Brian Tyers not only chose the capacity to see through fog, his superpower was actually granted.
“GO HÁLAINN,” he hollered just before half-time in the All-Ireland club semi-final in Newry. For all us viewers knew, he might just have been presented with a plate of chocolate eclairs in his commentary box, but apparently someone had just done something handy out on the pitch.
It turned out that Conor Glass had put Glen five points clear of Kilmacud going in to the break with a gem of a score, a happening only visible to Brian’s fog-piercing eyes.
Granted, when TG4 cover these games through winter, they’re hardly expecting balmy conditions. But still, they’ve been through the mill in this campaign, having endured Storm Fergus for the Munster and Ulster club finals back in December, when their camera operators nearly ended up in Nova Scotia.
Kerry’s Louise Ní Mhuircheartaigh announces retirement from intercounty football
The year it all worked out: Brian Lohan on Clare’s All-Ireland deliverance
Irish Times Sportswoman of the Year Awards: ‘The greatest collection of women in Irish sport in one place ever assembled’
Malachy Clerkin: After 27 years of being ignored by British government, some good news at last for Seán Brown’s family
Earlier on Sunday, they covered the first semi-final between St Brigid’s and Castlehaven in Thurles, when the gloomy, shaded frost-covered part of the pitch resembled something you might see in Siberia, while the bit in the sunshine looked Caribbean-esque. So the camera people had to adjust their settings every time the ball flitted from one side to the other lest we be blinded.
Up in Newry, it was trickier still. Instead of the coverage being billed as “GAA Beo”, Brian suggested it should have been “GAA Ceo”, only those who didn’t pay attention in their Irish classes not knowing “ceo” is the Irish for fog. (Sorry Ms Gallagher).
By all accounts, the closing stages of the game were thrilling, not least when a visible Shane Walsh, because he was on the camera-side of the pitch, played a wonder pass to someone on the invisible side of the pitch, who, seemingly, inserted said pass in to the net. The muted reaction from the travelling Kilmacud support suggested that they, too, had no absolutely no clue what was going on out there either.
Need it be said, there was no end of folk jesting about Kilmacud smuggling an extra man or two on to the pitch under the cover of the fog, and that was naughty, but to be honest, if they’d chucked on Luke Littler as their 16th man in an effort to nuke Glen’s robust defence, we’d have been none the wiser. And maybe they did, who knows?
Luke was, need it be said, the story of the week. There were those who even suggested that the BBC should conclude their deliberations on the Sports Personality of the Year, that less than a week in to 2024 Luke had sewn it up. Too right.
“This is reminiscent of Usain Bolt,” said our Sky commentator Rod Studd as Luke speedily crushed all who came before him (until the final).
Some scoffed at this analogy, but it was actually an insult to Luke – all Usain had to do was run, Luke had to do rapid maths while doing his sporting thing. Like, at one point he needed, say, 137 to win a leg, and without blinking he knew he required a treble 17, a 20 and a double 15 to achieve the feat. (Maths department: “What?”). The rest of us would have had to whip out a calculator at that point, but not Luke.
That he eats a lot of pizzas and kebabs makes him more relatable, although the ham and cheese omelette thing was weird. But he’s a superstar now. As Rod put it, “Littler by name, but bigger by reputation”.
The day after the final you’d imagine he’d have been back in his bedroom playing on his beloved Xbox, chilling out, but instead he had to do the media rounds. Sky News was amongst his calls, Mark Austin interviewing him.
The highlight of the previous week? Getting messages of support from Manchester United people. “I got a follow off the youngster, Kobbie Mainoo,” the 16-year-old beamed, Kobe being a rusty eighteen.
“What is the worst question you’ve had today,” asked Mark.
“I dunno, there’ve been too many,” said Luke.
You’d hope this fog will lift soon and he’ll be given peace so he can go back to being a young fella who loves his pizzas, kebabs and darts. But that week in the Ally Pally? Ah, go hálainn.
