Justin McCarthy alluded to it last weekend, and maybe he was right. In saying that we are currently witnessing the best hurlers of all time gracing the game, the hurling obsessive raised a topic that is quite relevant.

In today’s world we are constantly hearing that things were better in the olden days. The Kasier Chiefs have penned a song with the words “Everything is average nowadays”. But is it really so?

Time, generally, is kind to what has gone before. Events are given a gloss, an extra significance, call it elaboration if you will. Before modern technology grabbed a hold of our lives, it was word of mouth that informed us of the major events of the day.

Nothing was as minutely analysed as it is today. Events were usually viewed through rose tinted glasses, as that was the only medium of witnessing them – there wasn’t the plethora of television reruns that would show you the truth, the reality of what you really saw.

That goal scored from the half way line? It was actually closer to the 18 yard box. That try involving 15 players handling the ball from behind their own posts? It was actually a bit more like a few forwards mauling and the winger scoring from five metres out.

In hurling, the man who went through five men to hammer home the winning goal in the last minute of the county final probably only beat one opponent and slapped an ‘oul daisy cutter from a few yards out.

It’s akin to going on a night out, thinking you look shit hot, but when the pictures are developed you see that you just looked… shit.

Think about it. If this championship was 60 years ago, the events that have taken place this summer would have been embellished with oral special effects, travelling from ear to ear with variations along the way, extra spice added to liven up the story.

Take the Cork/Waterford saga – back in the Forties this would have been listened to on thee wireless, and then left at that. A newspaper report would follow, but the extra analysis would have been via word of mouth, the eyes of those in attendance acting as today’s VCR/DVD replays would.

And how reliable would it be? The first match between the Munster rivals in Thurles this summer would have probably been described as the greatest game of all time. Eight goals, shure where else would you get it? There would not have been the forensic examination of the events that took place, no cold light of day, second look at the match kind of thing.

The controversial conclusion to the drawn quarter-final would have been viewed just once, and upon that basis conclusions would be drawn. Some would say that their own eyes told them that Donal Og was brutally assaulted, others would suggest that they clearly witnessed the Cloyne man picking the ball clean off the ground.

So what has this got to do with the statement made by Justin McCarthy last weekend? Well, a lot. Those players from earlier eras have had an easy ride, in comparison to today’s exponents of the ancient game. Never forensically analysed, the closest scrutiny their game came under was on the day of the action itself.

Christy Ring, by all accounts, was the greatest hurler of all time. But De Scribe can’t honestly say he believes that. Why? Well, as he has never seen the man play a game of hurling in his life. This writer cannot form the conclusion that Ring was the greatest – rather, De Scribe is relying on the thoughts and words of others who were around in the Cloyne man’s time.

But how reliable are these secondary sources? This writer has read the many words written about Ring and his many acts of bravado on the hurling field – but if these feats were placed under the intense scrutiny of modern times, reviewed, watched, rewound, broken down – then would Christy be the greatest?

Ring certainly didn’t look the part of the top class sportsman, with his barrel shaped figure and balding pate. If we were to have the opportunity to see him play one of his matches in full, would we be witnessing nothing more than a man with a decent touch in a game that lacked any real pace and finesse?

In Ring’s day fitness levels were nowhere near where they are today. There wasn’t the high level adherence to preparation or diet – sure, teams did train, but nowhere near the level of today.

It is logical to suggest that as life goes on things progress. Progression usually means improvement. Today the game of hurling is faster, mort skilful and more pressurised.

It has progressed.

The proof is there, De Scribe has seen it. Thanks to TG4 and their re-showing of matches from previous generations, the status of legend has been blasted to smithereens in many cases.

Here’s one example. The 1978 Munster Final between Clare and Cork was replayed last year by the station. De Scribe sat down, late at night, to witness for the first time this event that he had heard so much about, “the one that got away” for Clare.

Expecting a contest that would be enthralling and entertaining, such was the hype and history surrounding the fixture, De Scribe was instead left with a massive sense of anti-climax.

The play was slow in comparison to today – fair enough, as the training methods were probably not as intense as today’s. But the one thing that really stuck out was the dearth of skill on display. Time after time shots were mis-hit, passes went astray, and on one occasion a sideline ball was completely fluffed.

Illusions shattered, De Scribe was half sorry that he had watched the contest.

So is Justin McCarthy correct? Is Liam Griffin right when he says that DJ Carey is the greatest player of all time? Maybe. Certainly, today the level of play in some of the top class contests has been nothing short of astonishing. Athleticism, skill, tackling, running – it has all been there.

Granted, there are still displays that lack the basics, such as Clare v Limerick in the quarter-finals, but by-and-large hurling at the top level is probably at its highest standard.

If you don’t believe it, watch reruns, back-to-back, of a match from the olden days and one of today’s games, and judge for yourself.

In the past, exponents of the game were treated leniently by those watching, perhaps too leniently. Today, thanks to technology, players are under the glaring spotlight. Under such critical analysis, we risk doing the converse of what our ancestors did. We are not appreciating what we are seeing right now.

It’s time to wake up.