THE PALE man from Ballyhale stands alone now.
After another thunderous All-Ireland final victory by Kilkenny over Galway by 3-22 to 3-11 in Croke Park yesterday, Henry Shefflin edged past Christy Ring and John Doyle, the gods of so many dusty 20th-century summers and eternal owners of eight All-Ireland medals, to win his ninth Celtic Cross on the field of play yesterday.
There seems to be no end to this marble seam of Kilkenny splendour and at the heart of the nine All-Irelands achieved in Brian Cody’s reign stands Shefflin.
“He set the tone early on . . . around 1999,” Cody said afterwards; gruffly, warmly.
“He hasn’t just played for Kilkenny. He has led for Kilkenny. He has fought for Kilkenny. He has scrapped for Kilkenny. And that is the difference between Henry Shefflin and the players who go out to get on the scoreboard and be the top scorer or whatever.”
All counties have felt Shefflin’s wrath and brilliance down the years.
Here, it was Galway’s turn to feel the full fury of the black and amber men in mission mode. Like so many maroon teams since 1988, Galway endured sorrowful mysteries here. There was the sight of James Skehill, their towering goalkeeper, leaving the field at half-time with a crocked arm. And that low, whistling shot by Joe Canning early in the second half that rapped the Kilkenny post and flew outfield, taunting Galway folk with its velocity. Or the red card flashed to Cyril Donnellan, their most combative forward, in the 49th minute. These are killer details that they will mull over in the west.
But the big canvas is dominated by the gambolling figure of Brian Cody in that peaked cap, by those swarming black and amber jerseys and, of course, by Shefflin.
He orchestrated proceedings with familiar urgency yesterday, at one stage racing over to the sideline to backslap Walter Walsh, the debut man, for his effort. Walsh is 6’4”,
21 years old and looks like he has yet to tear into a packet of razor blades.
But he ripped into the Galway full-back line, plundering 1-3 from play before being called ashore after an hour. In 10 Septembers’ time, Walsh might well recall the years when he hurled with Shefflin. In any event, he was a good advertisement for the blooming state of the Kilkenny orchard.
Nine All-Irelands medals in one man’s collection! It beggars belief.
They don’t need any Everest on Noreside to scale the world. Every September is their summit.
