IT WAS AFTER one of the many, many All-Ireland finals that James McCarthy faced reporters and was asked to sum up what they were achieving; did the players appreciate it? Did they understand just how historic it all was?
McCarthy smiled and made it a little less heavy. He said he didn’t think too much about it, but in his mind’s eye he could see himself, “Sitting on the high stool, years from now, telling some young one I used to play for Dublin.”
And so it comes to pass. There’s a chance the great man could be resting his posterior on an upholstered stool right now, rubbing his hands with glee as the porter flows. But there was something so Spartan about McCarthy that you can’t imagine much reminiscing or nostalgia.
He will certainly be in demand for the fresh take punditry that Paddy Andrews has cornered from that Dublin side. It’s a nice slide off the circuit for recently retired players and given his nine senior All-Ireland medals and five All-Stars, his views will be sought.
But it wouldn’t surprise anyone to see him fetch up in the Dublin backroom team after a year or two out of the bubble.
It was his winter wedding in 2022 that had one missing guest that might have been thought to be a cert; Sam Maguire.
That day and night to follow was subsequently described as the moment several players who might have been wavering about a return in 2023, strengthened their resolve. And they brought Stephen Cluxton back with them for The Last Dance.
You always sensed that it meant a great deal to the Dublin players, but McCarthy was extra conscious of heritage; naturally of Dublin’s own, but also his own family with his father, John, winning three All-Irelands.
That the only individual apart from Dessie Farrell mentioned in his retirement statement was Shane O’Hanlon, the long-term selector who passed away in February, was notable and touching.
As a player, it will be a pity not to see that loping, athletic stride anymore.
His levels of athleticism were matched by how robust he was to have played for so long and so hard. He could carry ball and fetch. He could tackle and inflict punishment on the poor unfortunate on the end of it.
In terms of skill, he had the balance of Paul Curran, elegant in ball-carrying and whether from boot or fist, accurate all of the time. For a team that played every pass to not only favour your teammate but push them into the space and instantly gain better perspectives of the pitch, that was critical.
On the biggest days, he brought it. There wasn’t a game when you could have said James McCarthy didn’t fancy, or stank the place out. A wet Tuesday in Stoke would have been right up his bóthar.
In the 2015 final against Kerry with Dublin hanging on by their fingertips at the end of a one-score game, he emerged from a ruck of players with the ball in his arms at the very end.
The 2017 final against Mayo was just one cinema reel of a man imposing himself against the biggest-hitting team of that decade.
But the standout that people will take with them was the 2023 final win over Kerry. He committed several fouls, but referee David Gough permits a ferocious level of physical stuff go in finals.
That night in his analysis, McCarthy’s old team mates Paul Flynn said, “Gough let everything go early doors.
“Players are going to realise that and get stuck in. I think James McCarthy was physical. I think a lot of lads were physical but he let it flow and that made for a good game.”
There was one passage of play in that final that showed his courage and insane workrate.
Adrian Spillane was coming through and McCarthy caught him with a body check. Illegal or not, the ball spilled out into the open.
David Clifford went for the break. McCarthy slid in and caught him in the ankle. Again it popped loose in the corner between Hill 16 and the Cusack Stand. Paudie Clifford was favourite to pick it, but McCarthy was in full Bryan Robson mode by then and slid in to poke it out of reach.
Five seconds. Three turnovers. Three fouls, possibly.
‘The stadium was on wheels at this point,’ Paddy Andrews described it as.
Without him, Dublin are less intimidating. Of course they are, without King Kong.
There was an honour to his play though. McCarthy was very popular among opposition players even allowing for how he danced along the edge of the limits.
The eye is always drawn to the shiny objects. When stories are told about the Dublin team that set all records and imposed a prison in Leinster and then stretched that right across the Bog of Allen to the west, north and south, the laughing boys will be prominent.
Like the King of the Hill, Bernard Brogan. His wizardly brother Alan. The outlandishly gifted and enigmatic Diarmuid Connolly. The upright smoothness of a Brian Fenton in full flight, the control of Ciaran Kilkenny and the wrecking ball gifts of Con O’Callaghan, John Small and Jack McCaffrey.
The beating heart of the team though, was James McCarthy.
Enjoyed that Declan thanks.
Excellent piece, as a big snooker fan, and a recent middle aged first time visitor to The Crucible. The same inevitabilities exist…
@Adrian: Indeed. I’ve been to both. Very different!