I’LL NEVER FORGET where I was when Austin Gleeson scored that goal against Cork. Brushfield Street, just off London’s Spitalfields Market, desperately hunting an Irish pub that might be showing the game. In the end I had to settle for an English bar and a stream as the data usage ate up my phone bill. That bill would rise throughout the evening as I rewatched Gleeson’s majesty again and again.
I can’t remember why I wasn’t home for that All-Ireland semi-final, but I remember making the mental note that it was criminal to miss such a crucial Waterford fixture. In hindsight, I should have been snapping up every chance to watch Austin Gleeson lace up in Croker.
Throughout my lifetime Waterford have been blessed with incredible talents, the type of players who stretch out from the county and embed themselves in the wider GAA consciousness. Typically, they don’t even need to be addressed in full. Ken, Tony, Dan, Mull. Aussie was just the latest off the block.
It helped that he came out of my Dad’s club, Mount Sion, even if I held no personal link to the place myself. These are the things that help keep the bond when supporting a county you’ve never lived in.
It also helped that I enjoyed Aussie’s career purely as a supporter. I’ve been witness to many great things covering the Irish Rugby team, but it’s never the same when you’re concentrating on putting words to the moment. I consumed Aussie’s best moments surrounded by family, intoxicated by the idea that maybe, finally, this was the year.
Gleeson celebrates his memorable 2017 goal against Cork. Ryan Byrne / INPHO
Ryan Byrne / INPHO / INPHO
That season, 2017, we were on the Hill for the final against Galway, having swapped tickets around to ensure we were together to celebrate the moment, if it came. Giddy with expectation, fidgety with nerves. Before throw-in my brother, a fit young man in his 20s, looked at his watch and saw a warning about his heart rate.
Aussie had scored 1-2 in that semi-final defeat of Cork, a glorious 4-19 to 0-20 win, but he didn’t register a single point in the final, Waterford relying on the precision of Pauric Mahoney’s free-taking rather than surging through their other scoring threats. That familiar, empty feeling.
A dejected Gleeson following the 2017 All-Ireland final. James Crombie / INPHO
James Crombie / INPHO / INPHO
Over the years I’ve watched Aussie in awe, and at times watched on with mild concern. I remember examining his warm-up for a league game as a newly-minted Hurler of the Year and sheepishly suggesting he didn’t look fully fit. It wasn’t the only time we wondered if Aussie was ‘right’ for inter-county hurling. His honest words to Off The Ball’s Eoin Sheahan this week reflect as much.
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“Looking back at it, I probably didn’t look after my body in my early 20s or mid 20s and I’m probably paying the price for it now,” Gleeson lamented.
We all are, as a gifted 31-year-old steps away from the inter-county game.
Catch him if you can: On the run against Kilkenny in 2017. Cathal Noonan / INPHO
Cathal Noonan / INPHO / INPHO
I’ll miss the excitement Aussie gave us, be that his moments of magic with the stick, or the teasers he provided across the winter months. WhatsApp clips from Mount Sion games, coverage of a county championship clash through wet TG4 camera lenses, imagining what he might do on a dry summer track.
What I won’t miss is the wondering, the uncertainty if Aussie would, or should be involved in the summer’s hurling. The rumours about the plans and/or condition of a young amateur athlete battling injuries. The simmering temper that could rear its head. The pang of regret you’d feel visiting the Mount Sion clubhouse after a game in Walsh Park and seeing Aussie in there during the years he was out of the picture, enjoying the day with his friends instead of togging out for his county, knowing half the place is probably wondering where his head is at.
Gleeson had a frustrating end to his Waterford career. James Crombie / INPHO
James Crombie / INPHO / INPHO
Maybe not giving enough thought to the pressure and suffocating expectation put on these lads. Perhaps not appreciating how difficult that all is as manager after manager moves you around the field.
It’s one thing to be a talented athlete, entirely another to be somebody who is expected to make the unexpected happen. Gleeson was 22 when he delivered his moment against Cork in ’17, a highlight piece only a rare few deliver. He already had Young Hurler and Hurler of the Year awards on the shelf, not to mention a 2013 All-Ireland minor medal – Waterford’s first since 1948. Greatness delivered with a whole career ahead of him. It’s difficult to imagine how anyone manages such scrutiny, such expectation.
Some will see 2016/2017, when he was at his physical peak, as the highpoint, but in more recent years his role as a leader under Liam Cahill gets lost in the story. Remember Gleeson grabbing the game in an empty Croke Park as Waterford fought back to beat Kilkenny in an All-Ireland semi-final. That was the performance of a serious hurler but winning high ball and taking your points isn’t as glamorous as the flicks and tricks.
The sideline cut is one of Gleeson's stand-out skills. Laszlo Geczo / INPHO
Laszlo Geczo / INPHO / INPHO
I’ll hold onto a memory I’ll never forget, and one I’m sure he won’t remember himself. Ten years ago, as a cub reporter, I was sent along to Na Fianna to cover a media gig with Gleeson, Henry Shefflin, and a few other headliners.
Before the event kicked off I had a few minutes chatting with Aussie, who was kitted out in his gear ahead of an afternoon of promotional challenges. We made small talk near the halfway line about my own Waterford connections as he warmed himself up, placing ball after ball on the sideline and slicing most of them beautifully over the bar, doing it with that fluid ease the greats possess.
Standing a few inches from genius, I wondered where this brilliant young hurler would bring Waterford over the coming years.
In the end, he did just what Mull, Ken and Co had done all those years before. He made us dream.
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Regrets and the hope that thrilled us: Austin Gleeson's legacy is one of complicated genius
I’LL NEVER FORGET where I was when Austin Gleeson scored that goal against Cork. Brushfield Street, just off London’s Spitalfields Market, desperately hunting an Irish pub that might be showing the game. In the end I had to settle for an English bar and a stream as the data usage ate up my phone bill. That bill would rise throughout the evening as I rewatched Gleeson’s majesty again and again.
I can’t remember why I wasn’t home for that All-Ireland semi-final, but I remember making the mental note that it was criminal to miss such a crucial Waterford fixture. In hindsight, I should have been snapping up every chance to watch Austin Gleeson lace up in Croker.
Maybe we didn’t appreciate how good we had it.
Throughout my lifetime Waterford have been blessed with incredible talents, the type of players who stretch out from the county and embed themselves in the wider GAA consciousness. Typically, they don’t even need to be addressed in full. Ken, Tony, Dan, Mull. Aussie was just the latest off the block.
It helped that he came out of my Dad’s club, Mount Sion, even if I held no personal link to the place myself. These are the things that help keep the bond when supporting a county you’ve never lived in.
It also helped that I enjoyed Aussie’s career purely as a supporter. I’ve been witness to many great things covering the Irish Rugby team, but it’s never the same when you’re concentrating on putting words to the moment. I consumed Aussie’s best moments surrounded by family, intoxicated by the idea that maybe, finally, this was the year.
That season, 2017, we were on the Hill for the final against Galway, having swapped tickets around to ensure we were together to celebrate the moment, if it came. Giddy with expectation, fidgety with nerves. Before throw-in my brother, a fit young man in his 20s, looked at his watch and saw a warning about his heart rate.
Aussie had scored 1-2 in that semi-final defeat of Cork, a glorious 4-19 to 0-20 win, but he didn’t register a single point in the final, Waterford relying on the precision of Pauric Mahoney’s free-taking rather than surging through their other scoring threats. That familiar, empty feeling.
Over the years I’ve watched Aussie in awe, and at times watched on with mild concern. I remember examining his warm-up for a league game as a newly-minted Hurler of the Year and sheepishly suggesting he didn’t look fully fit. It wasn’t the only time we wondered if Aussie was ‘right’ for inter-county hurling. His honest words to Off The Ball’s Eoin Sheahan this week reflect as much.
“Looking back at it, I probably didn’t look after my body in my early 20s or mid 20s and I’m probably paying the price for it now,” Gleeson lamented.
We all are, as a gifted 31-year-old steps away from the inter-county game.
I’ll miss the excitement Aussie gave us, be that his moments of magic with the stick, or the teasers he provided across the winter months. WhatsApp clips from Mount Sion games, coverage of a county championship clash through wet TG4 camera lenses, imagining what he might do on a dry summer track.
What I won’t miss is the wondering, the uncertainty if Aussie would, or should be involved in the summer’s hurling. The rumours about the plans and/or condition of a young amateur athlete battling injuries. The simmering temper that could rear its head. The pang of regret you’d feel visiting the Mount Sion clubhouse after a game in Walsh Park and seeing Aussie in there during the years he was out of the picture, enjoying the day with his friends instead of togging out for his county, knowing half the place is probably wondering where his head is at.
Maybe not giving enough thought to the pressure and suffocating expectation put on these lads. Perhaps not appreciating how difficult that all is as manager after manager moves you around the field.
It’s one thing to be a talented athlete, entirely another to be somebody who is expected to make the unexpected happen. Gleeson was 22 when he delivered his moment against Cork in ’17, a highlight piece only a rare few deliver. He already had Young Hurler and Hurler of the Year awards on the shelf, not to mention a 2013 All-Ireland minor medal – Waterford’s first since 1948. Greatness delivered with a whole career ahead of him. It’s difficult to imagine how anyone manages such scrutiny, such expectation.
Some will see 2016/2017, when he was at his physical peak, as the highpoint, but in more recent years his role as a leader under Liam Cahill gets lost in the story. Remember Gleeson grabbing the game in an empty Croke Park as Waterford fought back to beat Kilkenny in an All-Ireland semi-final. That was the performance of a serious hurler but winning high ball and taking your points isn’t as glamorous as the flicks and tricks.
I’ll hold onto a memory I’ll never forget, and one I’m sure he won’t remember himself. Ten years ago, as a cub reporter, I was sent along to Na Fianna to cover a media gig with Gleeson, Henry Shefflin, and a few other headliners.
Before the event kicked off I had a few minutes chatting with Aussie, who was kitted out in his gear ahead of an afternoon of promotional challenges. We made small talk near the halfway line about my own Waterford connections as he warmed himself up, placing ball after ball on the sideline and slicing most of them beautifully over the bar, doing it with that fluid ease the greats possess.
Standing a few inches from genius, I wondered where this brilliant young hurler would bring Waterford over the coming years.
In the end, he did just what Mull, Ken and Co had done all those years before. He made us dream.
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Austin Gleeson team:Waterford (Hurling 1590 wizard of aus