Rennes Out Of Luck

Where to start? The beginning, the middle or the end? Depending on what slant you take on it, then it could be any of the three. We had set up camp at the far end goal before the final and it was there where we had to retreat when referee Tony Bass blew his whistle for the final time last Saturday. The Parisians, deserving winners, ran to congratulate eachother. After exchanging handshakes we trudged, heads hanging heavy on dreary frames, back to base. I was one of the last down there and was taken back a little by the genuine disappointment on fellas faces. The silence unbroken. No corridors or dressing room walls to conceal it. I doubted all year whether fellas cared enough and whatever went on prior to Rennes, they certainly gave everything on Saturday.

Friday

After a quick bite to eat at mine, myself and Alan headed to Zaventem to grab Emmett. Emmett had been a doubt up until the week before having told Alan he was unlikley to travel. He'd said not to say anything but Alan tipped me off that he was due to talk to me at training the following Monday. Now Emmett and his wife Lisa have had a baby girl this year and he has used up alot of his credits for the G.A.A. already. However, he is also a very important driving force for our team; the type of wing back that makes you mark him. Training was cancelled on the Monday so I took the chance to get the retaliation in first and massaged his ego with a lovely little text. He was onto Alan promptly and the deal was sealed. Thanks to a very generous wife Lisa Byrne for indulging him.

With the three of us loaded up we set off to race the Friday traffic West. First challenge was to the get the GPS lady to take us north towards the Normandy bridge or South towards Paris. We managed to get her to redirect us north. Loaded with water though, we managed about three pit stops in the first two hours. Still, the plan was solid and only a diversion caused us delay as we ate road down. We landed at the hotel around 20h30. Having had a bad accommodation/drinking experience in Rennes last year we were not arriving with smiley faces. However, everything was spot on. The hotel was ideally located, across from a car park with lots of restaurants and bars in the square.

The lady on reception was a fantastic advertisement for the French nation. Long dark hair, an engaging smile and eyes staring out at us that made us clamber for support to stay upright. We peppered her with questions to try and keep her attention for as long as possible. Ultimately though, the stomachs were rumbling so we had to move on. With McDonalds vetoed we settled on a little frenchy diner type spot. It had something for everyone, which meant pizza for me. I should have known better. Who serves a Margherita with a raw egg in the middle and covered in pesto. Rennes was falling quickly after its early gain.

I was rooming with Colin Byrne. This didn't go well in Copenhagen as I discovered his habit of snoring. This time he brought he plugs though, so at least he couldn't hear himself. I tossed and turned but in fairness, got a reasonable night sleep.

Saturday

For once, we had a late start (11am) so there was no early alarm or rushing around. Having the cars was handy too as we didn't have to fart around with metros and buses and all that craic. The A's were first up against Rennes. They were fit, strong and full of energy but we knew we would have more football. I won't elaborate on our tactics due to the audience which this blog is now reportedly reaching. However, I can say that to my amazement, we actually followed some pattern of play for the first time since we started this little escapade. We were trying to move the ball quickly without using too much energy. One man never seems to grasp this though. I mentioned Emmett's importance to us earlier and he started in his usual fashion, bombing up and down the pitch. I must have told him three or four times to cool the jets. He was mad eager though given he hadn't played for a while. His day came to an abrupt halt when he chased down a nothing ball and went over on his ankle. His face told the story and he sits at home this week, foot up and in a cast. It was a cruel blow to him and to the team.

We ploughed on though and build up a sufficient lead to rotate most of the team for the second period. This allowed Rennes back into it but the lads kept the attacks at bay and we secured a reasonably comfortable win. Hough and Sheanon had done well in attack while debutant Dave Bourke showed well at the back.

The B's took on Liffre in the next game and ran up a big score. I'm never the best on the details but the game was notable for a number of things. Firstly, Armagh man Paul Hagan notched a cracking 1-1. Then there was Ollie. He had a bet on with Sheanon. €10 for every point Ollie scored, €1 for everyone Sheanon scored. Needless to say, Ollie's first goal was greeted with joyous celebrations and a restrained pitch invasion. Other notable mentions to Rennes native Matti and Alan who won alot of ball.

With Paris having beaten Lux, it effectively made our game against Lux a semi-final. Lux aren't the force they were in recent years but still possess enough Corkmen in their ranks to make them a difficult opponent. Aylward came in for Emmett and I went wing forward, in a swap with Johnny O who went midfield. To win we needed to get a hold of midfield and Giller and Johnny managed that. Myself and Colin Byrne got on a good bit of ball which kept the supply lines into Hough and Eoin alive. At the back Paul Quinn attacked every ball with a tigerish abandon. In front of him Dave Bourke was growing in stature with every possession whilst Keary did his dirty work out of the limelight as per usual. It was a goal from Hough that gave us breathing space and it proved enough.

The B's faced up to Jersey in their second group game and found the going tough. Willie was solid in goal for them and Ruairi, Johnny and Matti were involved in some good movements up the field. It remains a big challenge to compete against other clubs A teams, especially when we are missing so many in the first place.

The final group game for the A's was against Paris, which would be the same pairing as for the final. They had a huge panel and it was a stick up for us wearing out the bodies. It was a good chance to rotate the squad and give as many B's a run as possible. Whilst it’s hard to say there was intent in any of it, some of the tackling was clumsy. It resulted in Paul Quinn getting split and Cluxton, now at wing forward, getting a finger in the eye. We quickly called for reinforcements and withdrew the remaining A's. Credit to the full panel for getting through this game.

By virtue of some elaborate maths, the B's ended up in a semi-final against Jersey. It was more competitive this time as Ollie's scoring brought him closer to the €50 mark. Despite the difficulties, the B's never give up and wise old heads like Denzer are great men to keep going when the tide is against you (this would be from playing with FC Irlande 4ths for years!). Jersey went on to win the Shield so there is so consolation in that.

In Copenhagen, Paris beat us for the first time in five attempts. They got a big lead with the wind and we ran out of time in our quest to claw them back. I felt we were a better team than them up there but the score line didn't back me up. They have a strong sense of purpose about them this year and you can see in the way they behave during the day. I didn't recognise some of their lads in Rennes and from early round games, they looked to have picked up a few handy lads.

Victory would catapult us right back into the reckoning, defeat would leave us relying on a delicate combination of results in Maastricht to see us retain the crown. So the message was simple; stick to the plan, leave it all out on the pitch & do everything you can to make sure in an hour’s time we are still in a position to retain the Championship.

We started with great purpose, flowing forward but our early raids were characterised by balls flying everywhere except over the bar. We came within a whisker of a goal when I pumped a long ball over the head of Hough's marker. He had little space to play with though as he pulled it down just inside the end line. Another chance gone. Paris looked dangerous themselves and whilst they kicked wides under pressure, they also kicked three points to our one in the first half.

We were well in it at this stage, matching our opponents in each sector except finishing. There was little to be said at half time. Fellas effort was good, the heads were right, it was just a case of adjusting the radar. We exchanged early points in the second half and got within one. At this stage i gathered the ball moving towards the left corner went for an effort from distance. Too far for the left, i hit is with the outside of the right. Radar was on but i didn't give it enough. I dropped 4 or 5 balls into the keepers hands on the day, mortal sin.

It was around this point when Paris took over. Every pass they seemed to hit was on the money whilst ours were always just a yard or so off. Within five minutes they struck for two goals. Whilst they came from great passes, lack of marking and tracking by ourselves were a contributing factor. When teams in Paris situation get to this point they are hard to stop. Their energy levels seem to go to another level, their believe grows with every passing passage of play. We've been there, seen it, recognised it; which makes it all the harder when it plays out in front of you. There were no complaints when the final whistle went and I had no qualms about shaking their hand and congratulating them. The team we had on the pitch gave everything they had and there is no shame in defeat when you can say that.

There were many positives to be taken from the day. Clux was outstanding in the final making a couple of great saves and steering his kick-outs well. Keary is edging back towards full fitness. Aylward showed great drive when called upon, as did Paul. Dave Bourke is a great find, a tough defender with a good brain. Johnny O and Colin Byrne had their best tournaments yet and combined well around the middle with All-Island Champions Olof. Hough (a fantastically gifted footballer who makes those around him look good!!) and Sheanon worked well. Maybe we didn't give Hough his share, maybe we should have started Sheanon on the left where the free he would have earned would have favoured a right footer. There were things we could have done but we were running a tight ship so the room to manoeuvre was not so great.

With us wallowing in our sorrows we were not such a supportive force to the B's as they took on Liffre in the 3/4 place playoff. At this point, our lads were bait, many having played nearly 5 games. The French were full of energy and were not to be contained. A season best 4th for the B's and a 2nd for the A's was the story the final tables told. No glory but no shame either.

This blog is five days late so to keep it someway relevant I will summarise the other key points;

The Gladies; They won again. Maybe one of the more satisfying as they too were missing an abundance of players and came from behind in the final to win. Great saves by Clare, a penalty from Laura, tenacious defending by Steph and marauding play by the sisterly duo of Mide and Cuba. Of course they were backboned by Cork woman Sylvia.

Joe McDonagh; The former President of the G.A.A. was on official duty in Rennes at the weekend. He is everything I would imagine of a former/current G.A.A. President. A man of the people. He talked with myself and Keary for ages about players, GAA issues and Junior football matches. Keary was more coherent then I was at that stage. His patience was admirable.

Girlfriends; Alex Ferguson talked last week about how he liked his players to settle down early in life. Hopefully this is what is happening Sheanon. He mentioned his girlfriend four times in one sentence last week. He's not back to his best yet, but he is on the way.

Paris' New Zealand connection; She was one of the girls who distracted me when I was in goal back in April in Paris. I think she may be the blogs biggest fan and insisted on being mentioned. Here you are...

Saturday night drinking; France and myself will never fall in love. I don't like Kronenburg, I don't like French toilets, I don't like French taximen......We got home around 3am.

Sunday

Alan manned the wheel. It was Colin's first experience. He blessed himself more then once but he had us in The Hairy for 18h30. We were joined by Jane, Sylvia, Olof, Clare and Colin. Olof pinned each of the girls up against the wall. Only Sylvia tilted her head. The banter ended at mine around midnight.

The end.