OPINION: Anthony Cunningham’s blast of blazing fury came two months too late

Anger is an energy.

As Galway ran to the darkness of the tunnel under the Hogan Stand at half-time in the All-Ireland hurling final this year, Anthony Cunningham must have thought his day was finally about to arrive. His critics, inside and outside the county, would finally be silenced. Leading by three points, his side had Kilkenny rattled and, if they could keep the level of performance up, it looked as if a first All-Ireland within 30 years was on the cards. But it all came asunder in the second half as Kilkenny battered and bullied their way to a 36th All-Ireland crown, and as Joey Holden lifted Liam McCarthy, Cunningham might have had some inkling of what was coming down the tracks. The seeds of Cunningham's anxiety had been sown in 2014. The St Thomas' man was surprisingly re-appointed as Galway manager last year, despite a nightmare 2013 and an indifferent 2014. Cunningham must have been aware it was win-or-bust this term but, after a mixed National League, trouble flared as players looked for him to quit before the beginning of the championship. The county board stepped in and patched up relations, but the good ship Galway had been holed below the water line. The team ploughed on to the Leinster final where they lost to Kilkenny again, but with a power-packed win over Tipperary in the All-Ireland semi-final, they finally looked to be hitting top gear at the right time. But in one 35-minute spell, their entire season collapsed around them, as their tactics came apart and the Kilkenny full-back line mopped up ball after aimless ball. The Galway players were the ones who failed to deliver any decent possession into Joe Canning, but their cross-hairs were trained on Cunningham as the fall guy. In the end, his failure to provoke a response in that half-time team-talk sealed his fate. We knew he was a fiery character from his run-ins with Brian Cody over the years but perhaps the best place for his anger and rage was inside the four walls of that dressing room on September 6th. That was the place for his anger, instead of a statement released in defeat, a statement that achieved a GAA first last night. In it he confirmed that he was quitting as Galway manager before publicly blasting the players for holding what he described it as a "kangaroo court" to force him out. He said the Galway players were, "motivated by a desire to unjustly extend their lifespan as inter-county players, placing personal agendas above the greater good of Galway hurling”. Contrast his reaction to that of Pat Holmes and Noel Connelly who, though disappointed they were axed by the Mayo players, accepted it and moved on without barely a murmur. Where the row between the Mayo players and management was based on preparation and seemingly a slippage of standards from the James Horan era, Cunningham's falling out with what he described as "a core group of senior players" seems to be a clear clash of personality that was a long time coming. While Mayo squad acted with a purpose and a clarity, Galway's heave was carried out in a haphazard fashion, and they needed three attempts before finally getting rid of their intended target. The whole saga dragged on for well over a month, which led to bitterness festering and a gaping wound in Galway hurling that will need a delicate surgical touch to fix. Cunningham is not entirely blameless. He failed to address why he made no mention of the squad unhappiness before a county board meeting in October, despite knowing there had been a vote of no-confidence in him just 48 hours before. Instead, he told all assembled he was looking forward to another season in charge of Galway as he was ratified without any opposition. Cheeky, or just brazen?   Cunningham was clearly very hurt by the way he was dumped by the Galway hurlers, but lashing the players in his final act as Galway manager does not reflect well on the gentleman that many have dealt with over the last number of years. Perhaps he thought he could ride out the controversy, like he had in the spring and the player's resolve would lessen with the dying of the light. But he misjudged the rage within the Galway camp. Instead the bloody end to his reign leaves his successor with a Dr Frankenstein like challenge to reassemble the various bloody body parts of a fractured squad into a working unit again. He gave us one of the moments of the year when he spoke to Noel McGrath after the Tipperary game, but his criticism of the Galway players - true and all as it may be in his opinion - has soured an already toxic situation. His anger may have been productive on the first Sunday of September, but last night it achieved nothing.