Kilkenny win 2015 hurling final

Same shit, different day

How do Kilkenny keep doing it, year after year?

Some people will say that it’s because they play nothing else except hurling, and certainly, that has to be a factor but it’s not a complete explanation.  After all, from 1904 to  1994, they won the All-Ireland 25 times, a pretty good record for sure, but still only an average of slightly more than one win every four years, even though, admittedly, they made it to the final every second year.  On the other hand, from 2000 to now they’ve won it eleven times.  Eleven wins in fifteen years compared to 25 wins in the previous 91 years.

That’s a 27% success rate in the first century and a 72% success rate in the following fifteen years.  Something must have changed, but what?

Brian Cody. That’s what.

Of course he was working with great material in Kilkenny which, as I said, had reached the final every second year for the previous century, but Cody nearly trebled the win-rate.

I was going to say this guy is the Alex Ferguson of hurling, but he’s not.  Cody is a far better motivator. His success rate is much higher despite the fact that he’s only a teacher doing the managerial job part time. Nobody is paying Brian Cody a salary of millions, or offering him a share of a racehorse. He has no budget worth speaking of. He buys no players and I believe he doesn’t possess a hair drier which is always a good thing to say about any manager.

Do we want Kilkenny to keep winning the All Ireland?

No. We don’t.  I’d lay odds that even Kilkenny don’t want to keep winning it. After all, where’s the joy in winning if you know you’re going to do it every time? Where’s the excitement? Where’s the challenge?

Maybe it’s about time somebody else stepped up and took that trophy.  Anyone. Even Tipperary.

 

2 thoughts on “Kilkenny win 2015 hurling final

  1. On the subject of gratuitous attacks on the GAA, Sky Sports is shining a light into the deep recesses of the organisation and, by proxy, Paddy, who, according to Freud, is immune to psychoanalysis.

    Foreigners, who usually don’t start emoting in a language they never use if someone hands them a cup, a Sam McGuire cup, let’s say, can observe the malaise from the comfort of their living room in mainland Europe and throughout the developed world.

    Imagine the surprise on their faces when Sky Sports breaks the following.

    “Rooney admits that since he got a hair transplant he’s scoring more.”

    “N’Zogbia quits Newcastle after boss Joe Kinnear keeps mispronouncing his name and calling him (deliberately) ‘Insomnia’.

    “GAA fans lock ref in boot of car in arsehole of Ireland.”

    Could you run that one by us again. No, not the one about Rooney or Insomnia…..

    As regards Gaelic football, deep down in their psyche the GAA know that the decision to allow outfield players handle the ball at the famous meeting in Tipp in 1884 – effectively unleashing 30 goalkeepers onto the field of play for over a century – hasn’t worked.

    But like the couple that insist on doing that frenetic dance, the one where you twirl herself around – the Hucklebuck (Hey!) – to reggae, despite knowing that the suave sounds of the Caribbean doesn’t lend itself to indigenous bufoonery, the GAA keep doing it, and the couple on the dance floor keep doing it.They know it is wrong, shameful and sinful.

    (And not because the Hucklebuck (Hey!), according to the urban dictionary, is, in fact, an advanced ridin’ position).

    But at an existential level, they – the GAA and the couple – are making a deep cultural statement.

    Inspired by that great social revolutionary Brendan Boyer, the man that single-handedly tried to undermine the prophets Dylan, Hendrix, Bowie and the Beatles, they are publicly rejecting, quite clearly to me, anyway, all societal advances when they Hucklebuck (Hey!) deep into the evening of the afternoon they spent observing players who are not goalkeepers handle the ball.

    Because that’s what you do when you do the Hucklebuck (Hey!).

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