The Kilkenny goalkeeper was a colossus as he stood between Tipperary and a goal in yesterday's epic final, writes Keith Duggan
THERE were several moments when PJ Ryan made an entire stadium see things that were not happening. When Eoin Kelly wound up to let fly after 44 minutes, thousands of Tipperary men were already rising from their seats.
And afterwards, Liam Sheedy would admit he believed that Séamus Callanan’s low shot just after half-time had actually gone into the net.
Late on, too, with Tipperary still hunting with intensity, Noel McGrath feinted to the endline, stepped inside and made just enough space to hit a terrific shot from an acute angle. Once again, Ryan got his stick to the ball.
All afternoon, the Johnstown man had stood between Tipperary and a goal that would surely have equated more than the three points allowed in the handbook. In a game of this magnitude, a goal would signal the fact that the meanest back division in the business had been penetrated and perhaps, in a young, coming and limitlessly brave team of challengers, it would have brought them to that clean, well-lighted place.
But no: not on this damp, electrifying afternoon when the traditional counties served up not just an All-Ireland hurling final that distinguished the 125th anniversary celebrations of the GAA but a match that illuminated the highest virtues of sport in general.
When it was over, Ryan ambled into the large cavern deep in the pits of Croke Park where victors and losers alike are sent to compose their thoughts on the game. The Fenians man took it in his stride. For so long the diligent understudy through the quietly superb seasons offered up by James McGarry, it is easily overlooked that Ryan now has six senior All-Ireland medals glimmering among the other silver he has accumulated down the years.
This most recent acquisition must rank among the most satisfying, given that, in a match graced with many outstanding performances, Ryan’s brilliant stewardship of the precious white line may well have pushed his county further down the road towards uniqueness. Of course, it is terribly reductive to frame 70 furious minutes around the input of any one player and this match, more than most, highlighted the ultimate tokenism of the man-of-the-match tradition.
All through the field, the little, unnoticed interventions are what amounted to this epic achievement in Irish sporting history. But Ryan did everything he could be asked to do. And the goalkeeper was happy to take ownership of the old adage that what he had lived through on this memorable afternoon had been the stuff of dreams.
“It is, really. Especially being up in the border there in Johnstown. It is something you would dream of. You wouldn’t think that this morning. Just to be on the winning team and to win the match is great. Lads are saying that we didn’t win a hard All-Ireland for the last couple of years. So to win it the way it was today was special.”
Earlier on, Tipperary’s Eoin Kelly had been ushered in and spoke with extraordinary grace about the disappointment he was feeling and about the breaks of the game. The Mullinahone man had been terrific all day, leading from the front and always taking the right option and given that his long career has been characterised by such great balance, there was an irony in the fact that he slipped when he had Ryan’s goal in his sights.
“Yeah. I would say I definitely did there,” Kelly agreed.
“I would say it fell short to me and it slipped to me. We got two goal chances and PJ made two very good saves. Kilkenny got two clear goal chances and took them and won by five points. You could say that was the difference. That belief was there but ultimately the couple of chances that Kilkenny took and we didn’t swung it in their favour. I just have to compliment Kilkenny.”
Ryan, too, noticed that the ground betrayed Kelly as he went to strike. “Things happen fast in a game. The second one there, Eoin Kelly, he slipped. If his feet had stayed under him, he would have busted the net.
“You get a bit of luck on the day,” he elaborated. “That is as busy as I have been with Kilkenny. But playing Tipp, the last time I let in four goals and before that I let in five goals. So today was a big improvement. Even playing for the club, I would see a fair bit too so you get used to it. There was a time in the second half that we went out of the game completely for one reason or another but Martin Comerford came in and pulled it out of the fire. I suppose it is a 20-man game now. Brian always says that and it was shown there today.”
Odd the way it turns. Cody made no secret of the fact that he often felt that James McGarry was never given due recognition down the years, particularly during the Russian roulette of the All-Star awards season. Here, he paid handsome tribute to Ryan’s uncanny saves but then he returned to a theme that underlines the abiding philosophy of this Kilkenny phenomenon.
“The reflex stuff, I mean – PJ has outstanding reflexes and we saw that today with the shot from Eoin Kelly. But the bread and butter of goalkeeping is more important as far as I am concerned – the nitty-gritty of doing all the stuff like the ball coming in and getting a hand to it, all the stuff that looks very ordinary. We have been blessed this decade to have James McGarry doing that for so long and then for PJ to step in and continue doing it.”
Even in the euphoria of the moment, some instinct deep within Cody made him return to the sanctity of the fundamentals, the basics, the small interventions that are just as important as the most glorious. He has been saying it from the beginning and he will not change at this stage.