There was a crowd of Monaghan lads running around Paris this week.
You can go anywhere in the world, you can leave it all behind indefinitely to go watch a soccer tournament for the summer but you’ll never escape the GAA. You wouldn’t want to, would you?
They’re sitting there eating pub grub, drinking beer, the sun is shining and the beautiful city is in international overdrive and, oh, their country is making history at Euro 2016 as well. All this is going on around them, all the travelling and carnage, the logistics and scrambles and they’re there talking about a game in Cavan on Saturday night.
Nervous wrecks, the lot of them.
– “Well, how do you think it will go, lads?”
– “Ah, God, it’ll be tight now,” you can nearly feel the guilt that they’re not going to be there when their county needs them.
– “For God’s sake, you’ll be alright. Get it in to McManus and the rest takes care of itself.”
– “Need to watch that Murphy boy.”
It’s one thing not being able to enjoy a football tournament in a different country but they can’t even enjoy having the best player in Ireland on their side either.
That’s what Michael Murphy brings you: tremors.
Monaghan are odds-on with some betting outlets to see off Donegal in Saturday evening’s Ulster semi-final. That shouldn’t happen. Not in this tie.
They’re the Ulster champions, they possess a man who will one day be considered as one of the greatest forwards of all time, and they’ve seen off the men from the hills twice in their last three meetings.
But don’t dare forget that it took a once-in-a-lifetime performance from Conor McManus in last year’s provincial decider to hold off Donegal by the minimum. The Clontibret man was possessed in Clones. He was absolutely unworkable and it didn’t matter how well set up the yellow jerseys were or how dominant Rory Gallagher’s team seemed, McManus was causing carnage at the other end, playing on the very limits of what you once thought possible as Neil McGee and Paddy McGrath hanging off of him for dear life.
His performance that day will be remembered forever. That’s what it took to beat Donegal. By a point.
I remember thinking Donegal were finished three years ago.
Mayo had just hammered them out of sight, they had looked to have run out of legs after three seasons of unprecedented hard work and, sure, the rest of the country had caught up on their fitness levels too and that’s all they had after all. Or so I thought.
They came to Derry the following summer, already written off, and put on a masterclass. Leo McLoone finished off the most sweeping goal of sweeping goals, Michael Murphy bent one over from the sideline and the hopeful Derry crowd left with their tails between their legs. Donegal went on and beat Monaghan in the Ulster final. They went on and beat Dublin in the All-Ireland semi-final. Derry lost to Longford.
Now, the same questions are back. Are there too many miles on the clock? Has the game moved on?
Let me tell you, the game will never move on from Michael Murphy. If it did, he’d only drag it back into place and teach it some manners.
This is a man who’s chewed and swallowed every skill in the book. A man who’s physical attributes – every single one of them – are as good as anybody’s in any sport. A man who, if you cut him open, would bleed Donegal gold.
Neil McGee won’t be there in Breffni Park. If Conor McManus was causing them problems last summer, they’ll need to open a whole new crisis hotline for Saturday night and they still might not find any solutions. If he plays like he did in the Ulster final, Monaghan win. Simple as that.
But Donegal men don’t tend to let boys get a leg over them twice in a row. Donegal men don’t tend to take being written off very well either. They don’t tend to disappear into the ether or accept that they’re no longer at the top. Not this Donegal team.
Everything in your head screams a Monaghan win. Logic tells you to side with Malachy O’Rourke and question the Donegal mileage. Neil McGee is out, Conor McManus is in the form of his life – four-year form – and there’s nothing telling you to go against the rampant Hughes brothers or the rest of Monaghan.
But something inside just warns you not to overlook Donegal. There’s no real explanation for it, the argument wouldn’t win on paper.
Paper. This game is played on another level sometimes. And it’s Donegal that take it there. It’s Donegal that take things to the next level every time.
Write them off at your peril.
