Take a deep breath.
The game had absolutely everything, from red cards to black cards, awful mistakes, nine minutes of added time, hope, despair, power, strength, will, and heartbreak.
Tit-for-tat. End to end. Thrills. Spills. Skills, yes, lets focus on the skills.
Mayo and Dublin played out one of the most entertaining football games of all time on Sunday, a game that ebbed and flowed, that traded hands for what seemed like every second minute of the game.
There was obviously going to be fire, there was obviously going to be some tension and dirty strokes. The biggest prize of all was at stake.
John Small was sent off, so was Donal Vaughan, Joe McQuillan’s hands were busy taking all sorts of cards out of his pockets, but that was bound to happen.
What we have to appreciate is the skills, the finesse, what we have to take a step back and admire the excellence served up by the artists of Mayo and Dublin.
We saw Andy Moran doing what he has been doing all year, scoring some ridiculous points after casting Dublin’s defenders under a spell, we saw Cillian O’Connor pick off some inspirational scores, we saw James McCarthy caress two of the sweetest points you’ll ever see from his reliant right foot.
Some of the defending, from Chris Barrett, particularly was straight out of the textbook.
Nothing, though, nothing encapsulated the daring artistry on show in this game than between the 66th minute of the game, when one of gaelic football’s most accomplished and naturally gifted players, in Diarmuid Connolly, lit up Croke Park.
Connolly was introduced at half-time, and impacted the game well, flourishing in a play maker type role, and the Vincent’s man was at his dazzling best in the 66th minute, when he received the ball on the right hand wing position, he darted into the ground in front of him and was completely undetterred by the opposition tacklers.
There was no pass on, most players would have ran into the space in front of them, attempting to draw a foul.
Connolly had nerves, he had balls and he took the option that could have easily ended in disaster.
He burst past Lee Keegan and he spotted a lurking Dean Rock in the corner of his eye. Rock had ghosted in behind Chris Barrett, probably not even expecting Connolly to have the audacity to try to pick him out.
Connolly swung that peerless right foot at the ball, nailing the O’Neill’s size 5 with the outside of his boot, right on the laces.
Did just enough to tempt, to lure Chris Barrett to dive in, thinking he’d be able to block it.
Barrett was on the floor, and within seconds, Dean Rock was on his bike and on the way to notching a crucial point.
Rock was actually through on goal but opted to fist over and move the Dubs one point clear at a time when only two more white flag would be raised.
The pass was pure perfection.
The curve, the trajectory, the weight. It’s mouthwatering stuff. Diarmuid Connolly stuff.
