ALL-IRELAND SFC QUARTER-FINAL:YET AGAIN, Kieran McGeeney finds himself fielding questions about refereeing decisions that have gone against Kildare. What seemed to be a good goal disallowed. A Donegal point four minutes into injury-time in the first half even though two minutes had been signalled. A possible foul not called late in injury-time.
He knows the routine now: he gives his opinion and then it is tarted up as McGeeney bitching about referees and life and everything. Again. So on Saturday night in Croke Park, he was too tired and too hurt to bother with it.
“There is not much point in me saying anything. This happens every year even in games. Then the ones with no balls stand in front of me here, wait for a week and tell me to shut up and take it on the chin.
“I say something after a game and never mention it again. Ye wait a week and tell me to dry my eyes. I am just fed up to the teeth talking about it. Every child from knee high knows that when the ball comes off the crossbar and the goalkeeper comes out . . . unless that rule has changed. Has it?
“What is the point of talking about it? This is my fourth year in a row talking about it. Put your opinion in the paper if you saw what I saw. Stand up! Say it on the radio! Don’t be using me.”
It was a fair admonishment. His argument is simple: Teams train too hard to be let down by elementary decisions. And he knows that by talking about it, it risks sounding like sour grapes. And there was none of that on Saturday night, not for a second.
“It is tough. Everyone is falling to pieces out there. You have to credit both teams – every player gave every ounce of what they had. And for us, it wasn’t enough. We were there, we finished the stronger. Just the last two minutes . . . I feel for those boys in there. You hate saying anything because they are a good bunch of lads in Donegal as well. Everyone gives their all.
“It is always tough (to come back again). It is hard for me because sometimes I wonder is it my personality that seems to have an effect on the whole of officialdom. It is difficult to comprehend. I know that these men, when they put uniforms on them, they seem to become supermen.”
Donegal players make their way out of their dressingroom, hobbling, aching, delighted. Jim McGuinness sports a cut on his nose – a collision with a television camera. “I’ll live with it,” he smiles.
McGuinness has a month now to take stock of what has been a phenomenal fortnight. “The Ulster final was a huge achievement for this group of players and we haven’t been able to process that. We had to put it to the side for this game. A lot of the papers spoke of the fact that we might be done and dusted for the season but that is not how it transpired and that came from the players. ”
Michael Murphy, the Donegal captain, had an odd evening, limping around the parade at six o’clock and booming over a huge free two hours later. He grinned when asked how he did it. “Ahh, its amazing what a few painkillers will do.”
