What sheer drama! What a delight it was to spend two days in HQ, basking in the beauty of our championships. Come Sunday evening the reservoir of emotions was well and truly dry, two days that the championships needed had done their job.

On Sunday De Scribe caught the final twenty minutes of the Christy Ring Cup Final between Antrim and Carlow – in hindsight it would have been better if those final 20 minutes were dropped. Questions have to be asked as to how such a contest can be allowed to take place in Croke Park on the day of an All-Ireland semi-final.

Carlow were abysmal, and no amount of platitudes can cover this up (De Scribe also saw the first 25 minutes in a pub, it was pathetic and should never have been allowed to happen.) If you haven’t seen it yet, take a look at Antrim’s final goal and ask yourself should this type of thing be occurring in a senior inter-county match at Croke Park (the goalkeeper will have nightmares for the rest of the year about how he let that one in).

Harsh possibly, but comments that are justified – only the best of fare should be in Croke Park on days such as this. Many people, we are sure, felt cheated by the ‘contest’ that was presented to them before the main event.

The main event – Cork v Waterford. It lived up to its billing, and then some. The rain may have come and fallen all the way through, the players may have been slipping and sliding like Torvil and Dean, but the contest - and it was a real contest - was compelling. De Scribe was once again on the Hill, conditions could not have been in starker contrast to the previous days, but the action was no less compelling.

This was the best hurling match of the year so far, marked by skill, passion, commitment and drama. Cork once again showed why they are All-Ireland champions, maintaining their composure when facing a four point deficit in the second-half. Waterford must have felt that this was finally going to be their day, the occasion when they at last reached a final after a lapse of forty-three years. But it wasn’t to be.

Deep down, when Cork began their comeback, a la the semi-final against Clare last year, did Waterford start to doubt themselves? When Cork goaled through Cathal Naughton, sending the stadium into a cacophony of Rebel roars of relief and belief, did the Déise give up the ghost?

There was something inevitable about the way Cork hung on to claim the win. They had the experience, the scars of battle, to know exactly what to do. Right beneath De Scribe, with Waterford men pursuing him as a greyhound would a hare, Brian Corcoran was saving the day. From full forward to left corner back, right on the endline, holding on to possession for dear life, it was one of the highlights of the sporting year so far. The sheer intensity of it, the sheer desire on display, was a privilege to behold. In that one play, that one act of what had been a seventy minute drama, we witnessed what this game can give us.

Upon the final whistle the reaction of both sets of fans could not have been in greater contrast. Rebels roared, exuberant at getting to yet another final. The men from the south-east were stunned, disbelieving that yet another semi-final had been lost. De Scribe, as a Clare man, felt like saying something, maybe ‘I was there last year, I know how you feel’ – but instead I joined them in their silence, looking out on the field – for some a field of dreams, for others a field of nightmares.

The championship at its best – don’t you just love it?

Related Topic: Haaa-aay! Not so fast with the obituaries already!
Cork get their just desserts - just!