Emmet Moloney writes for the 'The Irish Farmers Journal' and is a former sports columnist with 'The Kerryman'.

At least once a year I like to pat the GAA on the back, for no other reason than that they deserve it. And last Sunday’s match certainly deserves praise, writes Emmet Moloney...

We do a lot of giving out, as is our nature, but we should balance that with praise where it is due. Nowhere was that more obviously due than Croke Park on Sunday.

This is an era of soundbites. Our main news organisations are blindly falling for the spin of institutions like political parties, semi-state bodies and, of course, those big bad wolves – the banks. As a result, we have non-stories doing the rounds and capturing the headlines. We have lead items on the news about a Meath hunt, people potentially being “done” for dropping the kids to school in the commercial vehicle, the Greens and Fianna Fáil in a possible rift and now, because banks cannot protect their employees and their cash holding systems, we have a Government minister suggesting that because of a few criminal thugs, we should pay for accessing our own money. It’s enough to drive you to drink!

This is what is happening in our country right now. The real story, of course, is almost hidden away. There isn’t one family not affected by this economic disaster. Left, right and centre, we are suffering. Some a lot more than others. That’s what our media needs to zone in on. The urgency to deal with this suffering, the urgency to cope with this suffering and the urgency to get urgent.

In such times the lift, when it comes, is crucial. The good day. The happy event. The celebration. They now assume an importance that we had almost forgotten. Thank God for the GAA. You’d have to be an alien not to have been caught up in the hype surrounding Tipperary and Kilkenny. At last a topic of conversation that didn’t veer towards recession. A conversation that could veer so many ways – all of them good.

The drive for five. Henry. Cody. Tipp. Last year. Up for the final. The Rattler. Desperate, once-off songs. Tickets. Swops for football tickets. Spare tickets. Promise of tickets. No tickets. The train. The supporters’ bus. Parking. Rumours of clampers. Sandwiches. Always sandwiches. The forecast. Early Mass. On the road. Traffic. Shortcuts into Dublin. Jerseys now, not hats scarves or rosettes. Crowds, milling crowds. Banter. The minor match. The senior teams. The roar. The anthem. The tension. The absolute enthralling nature of it all.

You see, we still have that. We will always have that. Then the day itself lives up to everything we hoped it might be. How many times does that happen in sport? We were blessed. Sunday was a perfect GAA day. While I realise Kilkenny and Clare people will feel slightly less enthusiastic, perhaps time will make them realise how special it all was. They played their parts. Heroic parts.

For Kilkenny, there was nothing but dignity and honour in their defeat. It had to happen sometime and the class they have always shown in winning All-Irelands was to the fore in losing this one. King Henry had to be chanced. This was an All-Ireland final and with five slips of paper available to Brian Cody, the potential reward far outweighed the risk. Winter well, Henry.
Our minors from Clare did us proud and gave us a wonderful, long summer. We will see many of them again on that same surface. It will stand to them and us.

To the victors, the laurels. This Tipperary performance would have beaten any team, even the imperious Kilkenny of 2008. It was that good. A standard that might never be repeated again on All-Ireland final day.

The mist that shrouded Croke Park mightn’t have lent itself to colour, but the old/new stadium never looked or sounded better. All-Ireland hurling final day for €70? The best value out there.
If you weren’t there, the day still impacted on you. That’s the greatness of this association. Sunday lunches up and down the country were timed to avoid a clash. Televisions and radios were commandeered. Somewhere in the world you had a brother, sister, cousin or friend marvelling at how a computer can be coaxed into producing the voice of Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh live from a perch in the Hogan Stand.

Always at least once on All-Ireland final day my thoughts return to Lehman College in The Bronx where I watched Galway win the All-Ireland hurling final of 1987. Twenty bucks to see the match and grown men crying in a cinema. Those are days you will never forget.

How lucky we are. I shudder to think what this country would be like without the GAA. In good times and now bad, it sustains us. These are the thoughts that run around my head occasionally when, as a Clareman, I can revel in Tipperary winning an All-Ireland title!

You’d miss the pitch invasion because it is so rare to see mass outpourings of happiness and that’s what it was. But life is about change and the GAA is about life, so we can live with that. We also have to live with waiting 12 months to experience it all again. But my God when it comes around, it’s worth every second.

PS. Best of luck this Sunday to the O’Connor sisters from Co Wexford. Aoife, Claire, Niamh, Ciara and Eimear were all brought up on their family farm in Grange, Rathnure. Their dad, Teddy, won an All-Ireland with Wexford in 1968 and their mother, Anne, informs me that the five girls are all involved with their county in the senior and intermediate Camogie All-Ireland finals this Sunday in Croke Park. This is a truly unique achievement for the family. If the hurling pedigree isn’t strong enough through her dad, the oldest daughter Aoife is married to Wexford senior hurler Declan Ruth!

Best of luck girls, hope you’ll be dancing at the crossroads come Sunday evening.

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