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Ahead of Sunday's All-Ireland Football final, RTÉ Publishing's Barry J Whyte continues his look back at some memorable encounters between Kerry and Mayo.
'In essence, sport is drama without rules, without knowing the ending.'
So said Tom McGurk in a recent advertisement for RTÉ Sport. Those of you who may have said that the comment was trite to the point of being virtually meaningless, well, you were all wrong.
In fact, if the 1969 All-Ireland Football semi-final clash of Mayo and Kerry is anything to go on, Mr McGurk actually understated the case. This final should have been played in the Abbey Theatre, or at least in the backlot of some b-movie studio.
And, staying in the world of entertainment, this game also lived up to the showband motto, 'Send 'em home sweatin''. It trundled along for about fifty minutes, proceeding along at a steady clip, just not necessarily into the history books, but with nine minutes to go, Mayo exploded into life and gave themselves, Kerry and the fans something to really sweat about.
So, in order to get to the drama of the last ten minutes, it is probably wise to breeze through the first thirty, at least. So here goes:
Mayo, as usual, opened better and lashed into their opponents. After an opening brace from Kerry through Brendan Lynch and the great Mick O'Connell, Mayo's Seamus O'Dowd, Joe Corcoran (two) and Willie McGee sent their side off to a flier.
Mick O'Dwyer kept Kerry in touch with a free before Liam Higgins just missed a chance to goal for Kerry, but his shot rebounded off the crossbar. O'Dwyer drew The Kingdom level soon after with another free.
McGee got Mayo's noses back in front, but the Munster champions got back to parity thanks to a Mick O'Connell free. Mayo rode their luck once more when a Kerry shot – this time from Mick Gleeson – bounced back off the upright.
Finally, Kerry's tenacity began to pay off and Mick O'Connell and DJ Crowley set up Mick O'Dwyer for the lead, which was soon added to by Pat Griffin. The Kingdom continued to shoot for goal, and failed yet again, when Mick Gleeson lashed his shot goalwards but was blocked by a Mayo defender.
Gleeson would rue not passing off to Liam Higgins – who was just outside the square at the time – when Mayo's Joe Corcoran tapped over two frees, leaving the half-time score at 0-07 apiece.
The fans were, no doubt, less than enthralled. The football hadn't been bad, but it certainly wasn't a classic first-half. Kerry, though in control on the pitch, were doing their level best to keep Mayo in the game. Perhaps they too believed in the showband mantra and were hoping to set up a blistering finish.
If that was the case, then the second-half was a bravura display of orchestrated narrative drama and an object lesson in how to set up a cliff-hanger. For upon the restart, Kerry blazed almost out of sight; Pat Griffin, Mick O'Dwyer (0-02), Mick O'Connell, Mick Gleeson, Brendan Lynch, and Eamon Donoghue were no match for two measly Joe Corcoran frees.
All was lost, it seemed. The damsel was tied to the train tracks, the 6.42 from Carson City was coming around the bend and the dastardly villain was twirling his moustache in the corner of the frame.
And Mayo started to realise that they were in grievous peril.
But sport is drama, remember. And, with nine minutes to go, the drama began. PJ Loftus grabbed the ball in midfield and punted it over the heads of the Kerry backs, who had taken a rather high line. Des Griffin scampered after the ball, gathered it, rounded Johnny Culloty and thumped it to the back of the net.
The game was on again.
The crowd, too, came back to life, and Kerry began to stutter. The free-flowing football they had shown at the start of the second-half was gone. Mayo were thundering all over the pitch, eager for the ball, desperate to reduce the deficit in the remaining time.
It seemed that, all of a sudden, Kerry couldn't kick the ball straight. Mick O'Dwyer's magic deserted him, and he missed two frees in the 53rd and 54th minute. Mick O'Connell, one of the finest footballers the game ever produced, missed a point a minute later.
Mayo's Joe Corcoran kept the pressure on; his free reduced the gap to the bare minimum.
And then, with ninety seconds to go, Willie McGee embarked on a dangerous run down the right. He had all eyes on those two Kerry posts, and was about to cut inside to make an angle for himself when he was hauled down. A free-kick was awarded.
Joe Corcoran had pointed five frees so far in the match. He had kept them in the game in the second-half when Kerry were rampant. If this were a Hollywood script, the rules would have dictated that he take the free.
But sport, you see, is drama without rules. So instead of Corcoran grabbing Mayo a replay and a second shot at Kerry, the pressure kick was handed to Seamus O'Dowd. And O'Dowd missed it. Kerry won 0-14 to 1-10. The 6.42 from Carson City ran right over the damsel with the hero nowhere in sight.
So while Mr McGurk might be right about sport and drama, sometimes – just sometimes – the fans and the players deserve that Hollywood ending.
Tomorrow's instalment will be the 1997 All-Ireland final.
