Every sports result has a clear-cut quantitative as well as a more elusive qualitative dimension, writes An Fear Rua …

None more so than Sunday’s All Ireland senior hurling semi-final between Waterford and Cork at Croke Park. The quantitative piece is straightforward enough. Cork 1 – 16 Waterford 1 – 15; Cork go through to the final; 61,731 fortunate souls were in attendance.

It’s the qualitative aspect of the day that’s more difficult to pin down. Easier – and better – to try to assess it now, soon after the heat of battle, than to wait until cooler counsels prevail. In years to come, that 1 –16 to 1 – 15 score line will nestle among the fifty-two other championship results between Three Castles and Three Shippes, with the record heavily skewed in Cork’s favour. It will look like just another of the veritable litany of heartbreaking defeats suffered by Waterford at the hands of Cork over the years. But to see it merely in that way would be wrong.

There is another story behind it. 2006 was the year Waterford folk held their breath as the championship progressed, almost afraid to say out loud what was in their hearts and minds: ‘This is our year’. An Fear Rua does not propose to go into all the events that happened at Croker that prevented this being the Year of the Déise. In a fast, intense game of championship hurling the actual incidents that turned the game – and that could have sent it the other way – were fewer than a handful.

The after match punditry focussed much on Newtownshandrum’s young Cathal Naughton. A goal and a point is a substantive contribution to any championship score line. But it is truly remarkable to do so after coming on as a sub – with your first couple of touches of the sliothar – in an All Ireland semi final in Croker. Yet, it was really a couple of isolated flashes of brilliance from that dangerous duo, Corcoran and Deane that despatched Waterford.

The irony is that on a day when their back division performed exceedingly well as a unit, from goalie out to the half back line, it was their much-vaunted forwards that left the Déise down. The two second half substitutions up front served only to effectively reduce Wawderfurd to a thirteen man squad as the game entered its most testing phase.

Throughout the game, every time the ball rained down on the Waterford defence it was a hand-to-hand struggle for them to keep Brian Corcoran contained. Literally, one slip and he had flicked the ball past a defender; Deane ran on to it and intelligently passed it to Naughton who left the reliable Hennessy floundering as the sliothar flashed passed him. Another couple of slips late in the game – when long sixty metre clearances were the simpler and clearer options – resulted in a free to Cork which Deane gratefully converted from the sideline, and another resulted in a sideline cut to Deane when the ball ought to have been pressurising Cork at the other end. Of these nanoseconds of judgment is the destination of Liam McCarthy decided each year.

Waterford have almost learned what it takes to win these vital tussles. They know all about fitness, teamwork, skill, individual brilliance, coming from behind and so on. All those vital elements are second nature to them. The difference on Sunday was that Cork handled the pressure of the final five minutes better. They were cooler and calmer and made better decisions under the pressure of the stop watch. However, if Waterford take nothing else out of Sunday it should be the learning of how to play in those final five minutes. Mullane showed that he has learned. The others will follow. Sometimes, intensity of desire to win is not enough, particularly if it is hastening and clouding your judgment.

If the faithful Déise followers felt bad on Sunday they can only imagine the pain that must have been endured in the dressing room in the hours immediately after the game: the dull ache, the despair. AFR has little doubt that time, rest and recuperation will dull that pain and despair. The key now is to take it into the soul and harden yourself for the next season’s encounters. Paul Flynn can go and have that long overdue operation and prepare himself for next year. Ken McGrath is not going to rest content to see lesser hurlers than he step up to receive an All Ireland senior medal. Nor, presumably, will Tony Browne settle for the dubious accolade earned by his late, great grandfather ‘Fad’, as the greatest hurler of his generation never to have won an All Ireland senior medal. Age is not a factor yet with this panel. To paraphrase that wily old Prussian, von Clausewicz, age is just experience gained by other means. Motivation to win is still a huge factor with these men.

Over the coming days and weeks, Déise folk will do well to beware of the commiserative ministrations of smug Kilkenny men, Tipp men and – let it be said – denizens of the Banner or the Treaty Stone counties: ‘Sure, what harm. Ye did well, bhoy. Didn’t ye get to a semi final again?’ This is the kind of cop out thinking that this current Waterford panel has vanquished. That is precisely why the pain of Sunday runs so deep. Because the Waterford hurlers know they’re good enough to be the best in the land; in the immortal words of the incomparable Padraig Ó Fainín, to take their rightful place at the top table among the hurling men.

This is where the qualitative takes precedence over the quantitative. Quantitatively, the score line says Waterford were defeated yet again. Qualitatively, the game says they have inched ever closer to that elusive All Ireland title.

After some time, the likes of the McGraths, Flynn and Browne, will Peggie Lee-like, ask themselves ‘Is that all there is?’. And the answer will be ‘No!’. Sunday was not an end for Waterford hurling, nor yet a beginning. More of a mid-point staging post.

So, stow the obituaries. Wear the blue-and-white jersey with pride. Right up to All Ireland final day.

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