Ulster is orange. Yesterday in Clones, Armagh's emotional surge saw them sweep past the bones of a storied Down team and on towards the dream days. Rarely has the town hosted a more rapturous aftermath to a final.
This was a tale of two forwards. Armagh isolated Diarmuid Marsden and Oisin McConville deep in Down territory and the duo combined for 3-9. Down's Finbar Caulfield was presented with the hapless task of confining Marsden and before the afternoon was out Paudie Matthews and Paul Higgins also spent queasy minutes in his company. In the first half, when this game was essentially won, the Clan na Gael man was spellbinding.
Down buckled after conceding two first-half goals (in a 10-minute period) and Marsden was at the heart of both. In the 12th minute, he fetched a long ball from Andrew McCann and scorched past Caulfield, running along the endline before flicking a perfect handpass to McConville, who fired home. Ten minutes later, Ger Reid pumped a ball skywards and Marsden, floating around the small square, nudged for space, caught and fired on the turn. It was 2-3 to 0-4 and Armagh were on the verge of cutting loose.
By midway through the second half, the occasion had swapped intrigue for sheer carnival celebration. Armagh struggled at times for possession but it didn't matter; the defence ground the Down forwards remorselessly and when Armagh attacked, they sang.
McConville, who nailed 2-7 in a performance based on imagination and clinical place-kicking, was at his most free-spirited. With Marsden, he roamed free in the last third of the pitch and was a menace whenever ball was directed at him. In the 51st minute, Cathal O'Rourke, squatting around midfield all afternoon, threaded a ball through for Tony McEntee, whose pass found the Crossmaglen sharp-shooter.
We held our breath, he cracked against the crossbar. Three minutes later, he nailed a penalty after Paddy McKeever torched Simon Poland along the wing and was hauled down in front of goal. Then, with time ebbing, an image redolent of Holland's finer moments in the World Cup; McConville racing across open plains and attempting to chip Down goalkeeper Michael McVeigh from maybe 20 metres. Audacious but befitting Armagh's adventure.
While McConville and Marsden gave superstar turns up front, there was serious grafting to be found further back. Down, razor sharp against Tyrone, were simply suffocated. Shane Mulholland had neither the space nor time to direct operations as cerebrally as he is capable of and the rest of the attack withered with him.
Mickey Linden was shepherded into anonymity and Shane Ward, Ross Carr and Ciaran McCabe displayed a hesitancy that plagued the team. Manager Pete McGrath tried to wring one last shot from the old school; Greg McCartan lumbered on and changed the flow at midfield. And fellow substitute James McCartan foraged in the last minutes when it was really out of sight.
Even had Armagh not been so bewilderingly creative, it is unlikely that Down could have reversed this result. They did show flickering promise in the latter part of the first half - Mulholland arced a couple of pressure frees to leave them trailing by 0-6 to 2-5 after 34 minutes but it was too little to spark any serious revival.
As their plans for the last raid of the century became eclipsed, Down became more fragmented and several players gave in to frustration. They are more accustomed to being on the brighter side of days like this.
Armagh simply waltzed on after the break, with Kieran McGeeney gradually climbing towards brilliance and his partners, Kieran Hughes and McCann, leaving their opposite numbers ever more crestfallen. At the back, the McNultys were in no mood for fooling.
Down's success in piercing the Armagh defence was minimal. At times, they overran the victors at centrefield, with Mulholland and Burns sweeping a lot of breaking ball, but their attacking game lacked focus and conviction. All the worst Ulster traits were in evidence and by the end there seemed a possibility that this loss might leave a long-term scar on a team in flux.
McConville's penalty, after 53 minutes, pretty much put paid to any remote prospects of a startling riposte by Down, leaving the score at 3-9 to 0-9. On the hottest of afternoons, the pace flagged a little and there was something poignant about the departure of Mickey Linden for McCartan after 60 minutes.
Full back Sean Ward followed, sent off for a rash challenge after an earlier booking. His slow walk capped a nightmare hour for Down. The orange faithful thrice invaded the pitch in the final moments, delirious with the moment.
The team they support has some gifts for sure in the forward lines and a defence that doesn't know how to flinch. The question is how long this gorgeous mix of flair and raw emotion can sustain them.
From now on in, Armagh will meet less porous defences and attackers with guile similar to their own. Much will depend on Marsden's rare ability to define a game in seconds. But yesterday their world opened up after all those years of chasing ghosts. Ger Houlahan, an icon in bleaker times, earned his first championship minutes of the year as the last seconds ticked. He touched the ball maybe once but has he known a sweeter moment? Armagh, then, have broken tradition. Where now for this new adventure?
