INTERVIEW KERRY FOOTBALL MANAGER JACK O'CONNOR: Jack O'Connor is not approaching this summer's championship like he did his first with Kerry. He tells TOM HUMPHRIESwhat's different this time.
HE HURRIES in, crouching slightly from the Kerry rain, carrying a copy of the local paper and wearing a good suit. He’s been to a press morning in Dublin and he is driving to a wake later. All in the day.
If he is worried about tomorrow’s league final against Derry he never betrays it. The second era of Jack O’Connor has a different feel entirely to his first reign. The outsider, the cabóg from Dromid who accepted the keys to the Kingdom back in 2004 had no off switch. His head ran at full pace in every direction through every waking hour, with ideas, schemes, maxims, tactics, advice being churned out on an industrial scale.
He sits down and wants to know what you want to talk to him about this evening. You say that you’ll start off with the recent success of Coláiste Na Sceilge.
“Okay,” he says “and where will that lead to”?
“Sure who knows?”
“You know, ya feck’n haydog,” he says with a grin. “You’re not starting off without knowing where you are going.”
“Sure we’ll see.”
“Yerra, fire away so.”
Haydog! New suit, same vocabulary! He isn’t the chippy outsider anymore, though. Since 2004, he has added two senior All-Ireland title wins with Kerry to a bulging CV. Then he came to one of the houses of the aristocracy, to Kerins O’Rahilly’s, and took a team carrying scions of the golden generation into the Munster club championship.
And, of course, there was Coláiste na Sceilge.
If you know your Jack O’Connor backstory you know then the heartbreaks visited upon Cahirciveen by the Hogan Cup campaigns of 2001 and, more poignantly, 2002.
You know about the lads staying back from the first year to repeat their Leaving Certs in the hope of another crack at the grail, you know about Jack scraping his money together and buying them weights to work out on. You know about them running the beaches in the foulest weather, about the competition coming down in the minds of the media to a shoot-out between Declan O’Sullivan and Michael Meehan of Jarlath’s.
You know how they feel about the refereeing decisions that separated them from success. You’ve seen Jack O’Connor speak of the pure and haunting devastation in that losing dressingroom, how that run and that failure touched lives and changed lives in ways far different to how football normally does.
You’ve seen the bond that exists between Jack and Declan O’Sullivan. You know what they gained and what they lost.
You know the town and the hinterlands of south Kerry lived and breathed every ball. You know what was gained and what was lost and who was lost. A special team and a special time.
The pitch at Coláiste na Sceilge is down behind the school, a green, wind-battered border between land and sea.
“I can never forget,” Jack says, “after being beaten in 2002 picking up my car at the back of the school. All alone. Pitch dark. I was devastated. Pure devastated. I was sure we had the team to win it. I thought the school would never again have a team like that. So much talent, such a bond and commitment to each other.
“I stood in the dark and looked out at the pitch at the back of the school and vowed I’d come back some day and have another go at it. Jesus, there was a lot of tears shed by players and mentors.”
Of course, Kerry intervened and the county scene took away his thoughts for three years, but when school started up in September he thought to himself that they might have a team that could challenge in Munster.
He had been joined on the staff in Coláiste na Sceilge by Micheál Ó Sé, who won an All-Ireland club medal with St Vincent’s in 2008. They set into the campaign determined to just let it unfold.
“The lads had an idea they would be very competitive in Munster. They had seen The Sem (Killarney) and The Green (Tralee) getting to All-Ireland finals the last two years and knew they weren’t a million miles off that standard.”
This journey was different. Relaxed. South Kerry felt different about itself. In February, on a magical night in Croke Park, Skellig Rangers won the All-Ireland Junior Club Football Championship and St Michael’s/Foilmore won the All-Ireland Intermediate title. Jack’s eldest, Cian, scored the magical winning goal for Foilmore.
So they were able to enjoy the progress of Coláiste na Sceilge.
So on the night they won the Corn Mhuirí to escape Munster, an achievement which had been the height of their ambition starting out, Jack O’Connor and Michael Ó Sé weren’t to be found huddled around tactics sheets worrying about how they could possibly overcome the might of All-Ireland champions St Pat’s of Dungannon. They were in the disco with the boys, being carried around on the backs of their players.
St Pat’s of Dungannon in the semi-final! A Tyrone team! Coached by Ciarán Gourley! They were All-Ireland champions, had nine of that winning team team back this year, including the entire Tyrone minor full-forward line, plus Niall McKenna, son of Eugene, at midfield, plus two Armagh minors and a sprinkling of other talents.
The Cahirciveen boys just tore into them. 3-10 to 1-6. The next day, the Kerry seniors were playing in Parnell Park against Dublin. As it happened, results elsewhere meant Kerry had already made the league final.
Jack was having one of those rare days when he hadn’t a worry in the world. With 10 minutes left, Kerry were six points down, but it didn’t matter a twit.
“I was in that kind of mood. A frivolous oul mood with a bit of divilment. There are not many games that aren’t do-or-die for Kerry so I said to meself, sure I’ll stroll down the line here now and watch Gilroy and Whelan. See how the boys are handling the heat! I’d a grand old chat with Mickey. I said to him that I hoped it ended in a draw.
“I meant it too. He’s a nice man, Micheál Ó Sé had spoken very highly of him. And they deserved a draw at least.”
It ended in a draw. Sometimes, if you have paid your dues, you just keep getting what you want.
Having beaten St Pat's, the boys were hot favourites to win the final with Edenderry. So they brought them to the Seven Oaks in Carlow the night before the finals and they swam and ate and went to see Fast and Furiousand relaxed to the point of danger.
Came in the next day six points to one down at half-time having played with the wind.
Mighty rattled.
He walked into the half-time dressingroom and every face looked up at him. What now? He sensed their alarm and adjusted his own metabolism to a lower setting. Extreme Calm.
“I just said, ‘yerra, look lads, they are not a better team, but we are a bit anxious. We just have to play our football and keep working the ball out. That’s all.”
They put a bigger lad into full forward and from throw-in they got a point and then another point and from there it was tit-for-tat They couldn’t get their noses in front, though. Into the second and final minute of injury-time. A free which Edenderry will forever claim was dubious, but Jack demands credit to his boys for what happened afterwards, working the ball in, back out, across the goal, the clock ticking louder and louder, finally Greg Gibson clicks a lovely ball into the sub Barry O’Dwyer who slips it into Jack’s younger son Éanna, who volleys it off the crossbar and down over the line.
And pandemonium erupts.
Hell breaks loose.
Jack, remembering 2002 and scoring a late goal only to give one away, rushes into the centre of the pitch to wake his midfielders. Éanna can’t get up he’s taken such a knock. His hands are just raised in triumph. Greg Gibson hared back and caught the last ball of the day. Cue trumpets.
“It was a special day for everyone. I set out 27 years ago as a teacher in Waterville to win that competition. To win it with my own young fella scoring the winning goal 15 seconds from the end of injury-time, with what happened to Cian with Foilmore, with Declan’s brother Dominic playing. That is once in a lifetime stuff.”
Next day for Kerry against Galway in Tralee he had to wear sunglasses. The conspiracy chorus wondered if he hadn’t been in a row. Truth was there was too much sun for jaded eyes.
And so he leaves it behind for now, the schools football, the brand which he most enjoys.
“Your Kerry senior would be sceptical of most things. With the school I love the enthusiasm. The craic we had after the matches was unbelievable. In a way, they kept me young. Watching them playing football for football’s sake, no cynicism just loving playing football and getting good scores. That’s great. the way it should always be.”
That’s dream stuff, though. The story of Kerry football is a long romance with the game, but day by day, minute by minute, that romance unfolds in the most pragmatic way. Win. Get ahead. Stay ahead. Pressure. Pressure. Pressure.
He is enjoying it more this time, he supposes. When he came in 2004 last time around he was succeeding Páidí and it wasn’t a smooth handing over of the baton, a little bit of messiness and acrimony lingered. There was only one way to come good and that was to win an All-Ireland. Fast.
Kerry were coming out of that period which included the landmark humiliations of 2001 against Meath, the loss of the 2002 All-Ireland to Armagh with Darragh as captain and then 2003, getting turned over by Tyrone on the day when that famous picture was taken of Eoin Brosnan on the floor surrounded by predatory white shirts.
Confidence was low back then.
The team he took back from Pat O’Shea have been in five All-Ireland finals in a row now. Big boys.
“The last time I came in I was full of enthusiasm and ideas, but I was kind of flailing around in the darkness. I had no idea where I was going because I had never really been there before. Now I feel a bit more confidence in myself. I’m doing it different this time. I’m keeping a bit of distance from the players. Eamon Fitzmaurice is dealing with the lads a lot. He has more of an input to training.
“I am consciously trying to get around it in my own head as to how my type of management is changing. I’m still searching, but it involves getting more removed. The last time I felt I was a counsellor. This time? No. They don’t need that. I’m throwing out stuff here and there, I don’t have to be in their faces the whole time now.”
The approach seems more sustainable. He says we’ll have to wait and see if it is as successful.
You ask him if he was granted a wish would it be to beat Tyrone in this year’s All Ireland final.
“Look, if you gave me the option of Kerry beating Tyrone in the semi-final and losing the final I know what I’d take. It’s about winning the All-Ireland. As they say about golf there are no pictures on the score card.”
But surely . . .
“To be honest, no. Tyrone is neither here nor there. I’m not staring at the ceiling worrying about Tyrone. I believe that you can’t go down that road. If you straitjacket yourself, you won’t enjoy it. There’s no guarantee we’ll see Tyrone this year. Things might not turn out the way you want them. You have to be ready for any challenge.
“I know the support in Kerry is very hung up on it. Like Galway in the ’60s and Down over the years, it bugs Kerry people. The Kerry team have won so much that sometimes it’s not about winning anymore, it’s about righting wrongs for a lot of people. If we can get our hands on the All-Ireland next September that will be good enough for us, but I know what you are saying. Some All-Irelands are sweeter than others, I suppose. Ach sin scéil eile.”
The game, he notes, is growing more defensive. A few years ago the fad was for Donaghy-like full forwards. Now, it is for dogged zonal defending.
“The Kerry and Galway quarter-final in that monsoon in Croke Park last year was a fantastic game, but that type of game isn’t the real world anymore. That was a hurling score. A football score now is 1-12 or 1-13. You look to your defence if you concede anything over that. Teams play counter-attacking football, playing on the break.”
So he chuckles to himself when people collar him around Kerry and tell him he hasn’t found a full back yet. The days are gone of Kevin Kehilly, Seán Doherty or Paddy McCormack catching high ones and driving out, tumbling three or four men like skittles before larruping the ball 50 yards down the field.
“There are usually only two forwards inside. If one is going for the ball the other is looking to block his marker off. So you are looking at two pacey lads in there. The game has moved on. In a way it is a pity, we would all love to play man for man and put players in their positions. It might be attractive, but you can’t do it.
“Coaching is about remaining patient, breaking that down, not playing into their hands, it needs a different kind of player. Mobility on the ball. Interchangeability.”
This spring, though, has been leavened by the boys of Coláiste na Sceilge. His mind switches fully now 24/7, if necessary, to the road ahead. He looked at Pat Gilroy and Mickey Whelan to see how they were feeling the heat, not to gloat, but with fraternal best wishes.
On June 7th, they expect to be playing Cork in Killarney, and Fitzgerald Stadium will feel like a microwave and nothing, not the school and not tomorrow, could prepare a man for that.
