The Club
Page 20
‘We haven’t dropped the hammer on guys but there’s been no comeback. Some guys are still boozing, they just can’t stay in at weekends. We got hammered for going to the Aran Islands on our pre-planned bonding weekend and people were blaming it for us getting relegated. Only two of the team which started that game against Clarecastle were on that trip; but some serious drinking went on at home that weekend, which nobody knew about. Well, we found out about it. There was a wedding and a party on and some guys didn’t spare themselves. If drink was the cause of us getting relegated – and I don’t think it was the reason – it was the drinking that went on in Ennis. Not the Aran Islands.’
He’s so frustrated at the moment that he spoke to Liam Griffin – the former Wexford manager – yesterday in an attempt to find some ideas on how to manage the current situation. ‘I just can’t get my head around it at the moment,’ said Patsy. ‘And neither can John Carmody. He just can’t understand why some guys don’t want to make more of an effort. They’re putting it in but they’re not really prepared to go the extra mile that is required to win at this level. We probably should have let some guys go, got rid of them. But what do you do then? Where are we going to get them? I’m sure it’s the same in most clubs.’
Some of us have challenged a few of the serial offenders who have been skipping sessions, but what can be really achieved if you have to go chasing guys? If they don’t want to come training, how badly do they really want to play or win? Can you totally rely on them when the real heat arrives during a game? Coaxing players to train is soul-destroying.
Despite the size of Doora-Barefield, our lack of underage hurling success and our booming underage football culture have made it more difficult for young players to make that transition to adult hurling. As a result, we don’t have enough numbers coming through to foster competition and put sufficient pressure on established players. In that context, we can’t really discard prominent or young players for their lack of commitment because it could threaten our existence as a senior hurling club. Rewarding commitment and giving opportunities to more peripheral and honest players would be the noble way to go, but very few managers see the valour or merit in taking that chance with a team capable of winning a county title.
You’d often wonder, is it just us? Are we unique in that we have struggled in recent years to get fellas to train over the summer? I don’t think we are, because you hear clubs all around the country talking about the same problems, especially when their season is at the mercy of the county team. After the great Limerick hurler Steve McDonagh retired from inter-county hurling, he said that he learned more in his first two years back with Bruree than he had in 12 years with Limerick. The experience and struggles he discovered at club level really opened his eyes, and his observation could act as a metaphor for many clubs around the country.
‘Young lads now are affluent and it’s not reasonable to expect them to do what lads did ten years ago,’ said McDonagh after Bruree won their first county title under their own name in 2006. ‘They go off to concerts or stags during the summer and it would drive you wild at times. But what can you do? You have to let them go. In the ideal world, you wouldn’t want to bend the rules but we don’t have any choice in rural Ireland when you depend on everybody. It would be very easy to fall out with fellas. You can’t really crack the whip any more.’
We’re not a rural club and may have a vastly bigger population than Bruree, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that we have more playing numbers. The progression we have made from a largely rural parish to an increasingly urban one has diluted our identity. Our U-16 keeper, Aaron Landy, a great lad who sometimes trains with the senior keepers, told me recently that some young hurlers his age in the club are just more interested in football, soccer and rugby and hanging out with their friends in town.
After our U-21s were beaten in March, Patsy asked them to stay involved in the club, because the U-21 campaign was only a stepping stone to hurling with the junior and senior teams in Doora-Barefield. But more than half of that squad hasn’t picked up a hurley since then. A couple of weeks ago, I had a chat about that issue with John Carmody, who was able to assess those difficulties from the perspective of being from another club. ‘It’s a huge problem here, and the club really needs to look at its structures,’ he said. ‘Because, from what I can see, a lot of the young lads from 21 down don’t have any sense of what being part of a club really means.’
You look on other clubs with real envy at times. Clubs where hurling and football is almost what defines their existence. At times, you’d feel that such a level of commitment could lead to a degree of insularity and deprive a parish of a more open-minded outlook. But it guarantees a phenomenal community spirit and a booming culture of player participation.
Our problem may arise in part from our relocation from our traditional base in Roslevan, which is now at the heart of an urban centre. Estates mushroomed and no ancillary facilities were provided. The only real green area was the pitch in Roslevan, but that’s gone now, so there is no focal point where young kids can meet. Gurteen is the only option, but the facility sits on the periphery of the parish.
Construction on our new clubhouse will begin next year and, at a recent meeting with the minor club executive about hiring the new coach, the minor treasurer, Seánie Lyons, made an excellent point. He spoke about setting aside an area – with a couple of pool tables, a dartboard, and a coffee dock – for young players to hang out and spend time around the club before and after training. It’s an excellent idea – it would provide the kids with a focal point and strengthen their identification with the club.
When we were growing up, and were sometimes engaged in a battle against certain clubs from east and south Clare, they might refer to us as a townie club because our base in Roslevan was perched right on the edge of Ennis. We used to resent that term and we often took delight in ramming it down their throats on the scoreboard. But we effectively are a town club now in many ways, because nearly two-thirds of the parish’s population live in a predominantly urban area. And we have to change our mentality to cater for that reality. From the bottom up.
Only last week, I was speaking to Paudie Butler, National Hurling Co-ordinator, about some details surrounding hiring our new coach. The talk soon drifted to our difficulties with urbanization. ‘I know ye have problems there, but at least ye’re going the right way about it,’ he said. ‘Because if the hurling people in the club don’t do something about it, it will all fall apart on ye. Ye’ve had an awful lot of new people come into the parish in the last few years. They are looking for an identity and whichever creates the most appealing prospect, they will join that. And in an urban club, that can be swimming, cycling, rugby, soccer or hurling. It’s up to the club to see that the kids are there for anybody. There may be 50 kids in sixth class in the schools in yere parish and they are there for anybody. It’s like a supermarket now and if the club can provide attractive games and attractive coaching, ye will get them. It’s easy to say that urbanization is the problem why young lads are not interested in hurling. That’s not true. They are interested. But are ye giving them a structure to play games? That is important because a lot of underage games are cancelled. So the club has to take responsibility for giving young lads that option.’
We all know what’s ahead of us now. Before the 1999 All-Ireland club final, our manager, Michael Clohessy, took to the floor in Croke Park. ‘A journalist rang me last week and asked me, where is Doora-Barefield,’ he said. ‘Well, after today, everyone will know where Doora-Barefield is.’
That victory put us on the map, but Doora-Barefield is such a vastly different place now from what it was ten years ago that there are people living in Doora-Barefield now who don’t even realize that they’re living in the parish.
After training on Thursday evening, 17 September, management informed us of our training schedule for the weekend. We were playing Kilmoyley from Kerry in a challenge game at the LIT grounds in Limerick on Sat
urday at 12 noon and we were all going to the Greenhills Hotel afterwards for a meal – a rare treat. Then on Sunday, we were training on the beach in Quilty at 8 a.m. Ken Kennedy was on the treatment table in the dressing room by that stage, so I made a point of telling him about the challenge game as soon as I spotted him.
‘Look, these boys might not be Portumna but just because they’re from Kerry, that doesn’t mean that they won’t be a serious challenge for us,’ I said to him. ‘They’re a hardened crowd. Plus, they’ve got Dalo [Anthony Daly] training them and he’ll have them well pumped up for us.’
‘Yeah, I know, they’ll give us a decent game,’ he responded.
Before the game on Saturday, Patsy called us all into the goalmouth, where we crowded into a huddle. After going through the team and what he expected from each individual, he addressed us in a tone mixed with frustration and anxiety.
‘We need a result today, lads, we badly need to win a game. At the moment, I’m not enjoying it and ye’re not enjoying it. And we’ll drive ourselves demented if we don’t get a performance. Two weeks before a quarter-final, we desperately need to start performing.’
We lost by 1-14 to 0-14, a goal from a Shane Brick 20-metre free the difference at the end. From our last two challenge games, a couple of trends are already becoming clear. We’ve hit 14 scores but we’ve failed to score a goal and we’re fading out of games. If fitness is an issue – and it appears it is – we’re in serious trouble because we don’t have enough time now to top up the tank with gas. Given that we’re not averaging as many points as last year, we’re going to need goals to win games – but we’re not even creating the chances. We need to analyse everything very closely now, but if you were to think too much about it, you’d wreck your head.
Unfortunately, the horror chamber was opened again the following morning when only 13 turned up for training. A couple of guys were working, some lads were going to the All-Ireland football final in Dublin, but five lads just didn’t bother. In terms of proper hydration and fuel intake beforehand, going back to west Clare would have required a 6.30 a.m. wake-up call, but management wanted to gauge commitment and attitude so close to the quarter-final. Once again, they got their answer from some guys, and it is eating away at the morale of the squad like a virus.
Our final challenge game had been arranged for Wednesday night against Adare, the Limerick champions, but I rang Seánie first thing Monday morning. ‘Things are way too negative at the moment and we’ll suffocate ourselves with it,’ I said to him. ‘It’s hard to be positive but we’ve got to try and blow this negativity out of the water, because it’s killing us.’
‘Yeah, it’s a concern,’ he replied. ‘And we’ve got to do something about it.’
We have got to choose our attitude now, especially Patsy. More importantly than him being a coach now and enlightening us with new drills and tactics, he has to lead us. To create a more positive mindset. Before training on Tuesday evening, I rang Patsy. It may have been beyond the limits of accepted player–manager dialogue, but I felt the issue had to be addressed.
‘Patsy, I’m not telling you your business now, but I think you’re being a bit too negative at the moment,’ I said. ‘There’s a really negative vibe around the squad. I know it’s not coming from you, but I think your frustration is adding to it. I know you’re pissed off with guys, but we need to turn this around now and it has to come from you, starting with tonight.’
He wasn’t interested. ‘I take your points, but my negativity is coming from the negativity of guys not making it to the training field. We’re just not getting the bodies on the field. There has never been a day where I’ve turned around to John [Carmody] or the selectors and said, “Yeah, everyone is here.” There is always someone missing. Either they’re injured, have excuses, or they just couldn’t be bothered their ass to turn up. I just can’t understand it. Look at Sunday for Christ’s sake – 13 guys at training. Two weeks before a county quarter-final. A complete fucking joke.’
I was a bit concerned with where this was going. ‘I accept all that, but we’re less than two weeks away now from a quarter-final and this negativity needs to be knocked on the head tonight. If you want, I can do up some positive stats about our season and give them to you for you to deliver.’
‘No, I’m not talking tonight,’ he responded. ‘It’s time for action now, and guys need to start showing me they’re serious through hard work on the pitch. Whatever I have to say, I’ll say it next week before the quarter-final.’
‘Jeez, Patsy, it will be too late by then. You need to do something tonight.’
‘No, I said I’m not talking tonight.’
‘Well, somebody better say something,’ I said.
‘If you feel it’s important,’ he responded, ‘you can take the stretching beforehand and I’ll give you five or ten minutes before training starts to talk to the lads.’
‘OK, either Seánie or I will talk to the lads then.’
The second I got off the phone, I rang Seánie. ‘Patsy’s not interested in trying to address this, so will you do it? It might seem better coming from you.’
‘No. It’s in your head, so you need to deliver it.’
As soon as I put down the phone, I started jotting down a few notes. Two days earlier, Kerry had won the All-Ireland football title after the greatest resurrection in their storied history. After stumbling through the qualifiers, they went into an All-Ireland quarter-final where they were expected to be blown to smithereens by Dublin. After they turned the gun on Dublin, it set them up for the All-Ireland.
You couldn’t dream of comparing us to Kerry, but I thought the analogy between where both teams were at before their respective big-game quarter-finals was a decent place to start. I also spoke to Kieran Shannon, the writer and sports psychologist, who is also a good friend of mine. He had some good pointers as well.
Jamesie was taking the session in Gurteen that evening. After the stretching was completed at the corner of the top field, in front of the AstroTurf, I called the lads into a huddle. Seánie and Jamesie knew what was coming, but I never got a chance to run it by Darragh O’Driscoll beforehand. Numbers were pretty high and there were only three lads missing from the squad.
‘Look, I’m only going to speak for three minutes because it needs to be said. I just feel that we’re swimming in a sea of negativity at the moment and we’re going to drown ourselves in it. You have to feel good to play good, you don’t have to play good to feel good. If we’re all waiting to play good, we might never feel good about ourselves and we might as well write off the season here now. We’re putting ourselves under too much pressure at the moment and there’s this feeling going around that we’re going nowhere because we haven’t been able to win a game recently. This needs to be addressed now because if we’re seven points down with 20 minutes to go tomorrow night against Adare, we’ll waste those last 20 minutes because lads will be thinking, “Jeez, another game lost,” and we’ll get nothing out of it. We need to empty the tank tomorrow night and get the maximum out of ourselves. Fuck the result, just burst yourself for 60 minutes and stay positive throughout the game.
‘Everybody here has to be positive from now on because this is where the road to the quarter-final begins. You’ve got to come to that game positive tomorrow night, you just have to. Each guy here, say to yourself before the game that you’re going to give yourself three targets: whether that’s a personal hook-block-tackle target that you have to meet, how many scores you’re going to try and set up, how many puckouts you’re going to win, that you’re not going to concede any stupid frees. Whatever it is, give yourself a target and chase it. And if it’s not working out for you, just keep going after it and stay positive.
‘People often ask me, “What’s Seánie like in a dressing room?” And I always tell them that the two phrases I always associate with Seánie are “Next ball” and “Hard work”. Do ye ever hear the man saying much different in a dressing room? It’s not rocket
science; if we keep working hard, it will turn for us.
‘Look, I’m not comparing us to Kerry, but Kerry are the perfect example for us. I was at their game against Sligo and they got out of there with their lives. They fell into an All-Ireland quarter-final against Dublin and what did they do then? They reaffirmed their positives; their big-game experience, their record in Croke Park, their record against the Dubs. It doesn’t matter how they got there, they got there. It’s the same with us. We’re in the quarter-final now and it doesn’t matter a damn how we got there. Broadford might have needed to top that group but we didn’t. We’re a championship team that gets motivated by the big days. Same as Kerry. That’s what we do.
‘Now, let’s reaffirm our positives. The three games we’ve played against Ballyea, the ’Bridge and Ogonnelloe, our backs were to the wall in all three but we came out on the right side of them. We played poorly in two of them but we still got the result. We’ve conceded just three goals from play in our last ten championship games over the last two seasons. We just don’t concede goals – against anyone. No team in this championship has a better goal-concession ratio than us this season. That’s not down to me; it’s down to our defence. We’ve a serious defence. People say we don’t have pace at the back, but what team has ever opened us up? Newmarket did last year when we were half asleep and we were destroyed from over-training.’
I took a breath and continued: ‘Four of the six teams we could meet in the quarter-final have never beaten us in senior championship. And the two that have – Newmarket and Kilmaley – what would we give for a crack at those two?’
At that moment, I caught Darragh O’Driscoll’s eye. ‘What would you give, Darragh, for a crack at Newmarket with ten minutes to go when it’s a right battle?’
He looked at me with glazed eyes. ‘I’d fucking love it.’