"It's different for me. It's just that the back of my kneecap is chipping off. That's all that happens. It keeps wearing and tearing. It's not like a cruciate injury that I can do muscle training on, it's just consistent wear and tear. So whenever it calls me into the theatre, I have to go and that's it" - Kevin Walsh.Many decades of the rosary have been said for Kevin Walsh's knees. Not to mention other parts of his anatomy. Back in the early '90s, he contracted a groin problem that lasted through the Gulf War and the first half of the Clinton Administration.The white coats shook their heads and advised prudence, told him that it was time to leave foolish games to foolish boys. Best to think of later life. The gentle giant of Kilanin always shook his head."That has been said to me everyday by local people and by family - if some of my family had their way, I'd have given up a long time ago. There might be problems down the road, then again, there might not. You have to try and make the best of it," goes his philosophy.Kevin Walsh has been director general of the Galway midfield for so long, it seems ludicrous that he is still in his early 30s. Still a young man! Somewhere in Connacht, there is a room devoted to the storage of the K. Walsh medical files. Several sports journalists spent their entire careers covering his setbacks and comebacks.If he ever tires of the Garda life, he has probably absorbed enough casual information to go into physiology. Injuries have been the big man's Achilles' heel - although his actual heels remain scalpel free. Tall and phenomenally gifted, sport got serious on him at an early age."I'd say he was probably playing senior with Kilanin at the age of 14. He would have been over six foot at that time and we were intermediate then," says Peter Lee, the former Galway player and now senior club coach in Walsh's parish.Kilanin rests on the main road to Clifden, farming stronghold traditionally, but gradually eyeballed by city commuters. In his youth, Walsh kicked football and also excelled at basketball, making the short trip to Oughterard for those alluring winter night hoops derbies that were a huge draw in the west of Ireland not so long ago.He represented Ireland at under-15, under-17 and under-19 level in the one year and, even then, his knees were creaking to such an extent that he had to reconcile himself to the fact that the hardwood was too unforgiving. Football became his mainstay and natural talent was enough to propel him into the senior squad as soon as he graduated with minor honours. And Walsh was keen to see how it would evolve but could not possibly have guessed at the extent and longevity of his role.He could not have guessed that some 12 years after his debut, Ray Silke, in his own twilight, would declare: "It's not too much to say that Kevin Walsh is the most vital player on this Galway panel. An excellent individual, he has an excellent football brain and works very hard. There would have been a criticism that he didn't in the years from 1991-'97. But if Kevin plays well, Galway plays well. He doesn't have the supersonic star qualities of Ja (Fallon) or Michael (Donnellan), but in his own quiet way, he is the man."And that is precisely the point about Kevin Walsh. Shorn of all the hoopla and wonder, Galway are, at heart, about the Kilanin man. The first half of Walsh's career just slid by in the mire of the county's lost direction.Injury visited so seriously in 1997 that he admits there were days when he "felt like he would not be back, that it was gone". So the O'Mahony era has been redemptive and, at an age when many players are trapped in a rut of habit, Walsh transformed himself."He always trained hard but if you see earlier pictures of him, his thigh muscles were huge. He was fit but carrying excess bulk. He went on a diet in 1998 and now has a much lighter physique, more definition and suppleness. I'd say that has helped fend the injuries," says Lee.Even a casual follower of the maroon game can't but note his all-consuming presence. He towers over midfield in princely fashion and, though he is a stay-at-home man, he is a creator too. His wonderful sleight of hand and peripheral vision is a legacy from his basketball days and while his kick is neat and accurate, it is foreign looking in comparison to the swift and natural brilliance of his hand deliveries. Some of the younger Galway players refer to him as "Daddy". In the station in Galway, they call him "Hightower". Walsh is, in classical big-man tradition, stupendously laid back while simultaneously commanding of a deep respect. "If he was interested, he'd make a fine county manager," observes Silke.Peter Lee tells a good yarn about Walsh on the afternoon of the 1998 All-Ireland final. He was hovering about midfield minutes before the throw-in and John Bannon, the referee was looking to toss the coin. "Are you the captain today, Kevin," he enquired."No", shot back Walsh. " But I should be." Earlier this year, Bannon officiated a Galway game and noticed Walsh in his vicinity again and couldn't resist. "So you're captain now, then, Kevin," he said.Walsh just grinned ruefully.But, behind the easy-go-lucky aspect, there is a serious subtext to this. Walsh refuses to dwell on it but there may be repercussions in the years to come, when the medals from this late harvest are dulling in the corner. The big man may yet pay for his commitment to his amateur sport and county. He can't help it."In '91 with the groin, they were saying I should stop. And that's 10 full years now that I wouldn't have been playing. Just wishing and wondering. So I don't regret it. There will always be the buggy for golf."The big man is too wry to wear his heart on his sleeve, but friends testify that he cares deeply. He often confessed to Peter Lee that he wished he had a broken arm to go with his "invisible injuries". Least that way, people could see a cast and know he wasn't faking it. Because, sometimes, he spent so long out, players would have started and concluded their Galway careers before he returned.Win or lose tomorrow, Walsh will line out for Kilanin in the county final next Saturday. The parish has yet to win the senior title, having lost to Corofin on a cursedly wet day last winter. Club teams regularly put two markers on the big man."Love to see that," he grins. "Means that someone else is free and they mustn't know I have two bad legs." He has trained with the club more than usual this summer, despite the Galway demands. Sometimes, if he hadn't made it across for a few weeks, he would find himself embarrassed walking through the door, loathing the role of the hero returned. Walsh wants none of it, only to play.But these foolish games are finite, for all of us. Except, perhaps, Michael Jordan. Walsh grins and dismisses a similar comeback down the road."No, if you go, you're gone. The day I say that, I am gone," he says gruffly.But he wants to defer that decision, doesn't want to consider it at all just now."Because there is a Sunday in every week. And the focus is always on some GAA match somewhere. It is hard to go to the matches unless you are involved yourself."And so he has defied the experts and the weak joints to be out there for judgment day on a season of biblical lessons and falls. Although the hype flies for the forwards, the essence of tomorrow's All-Ireland lies in the tension between Meath's John McDermott and Walsh. It is a duel for the ages, fire and ice, two of the game's great survivors raging against each other, against time."Every day is different out there. You suss your opponent out and sometimes you have to play a negative game. I probably did that against Derry because you can't allow the runs to come from midfield. A lot will hinge on the break of the ball. It isn't really about the catch now because it's as if there are eight midfielders out there nowadays and often a roaming corner forward as well. It's a jungle."But the big man is adept at surviving its vicissitudes. An angel has trailed him this summer, giving him an unbroken run since the early days of championship.
"It's been a long year but in a way it's been like any other year, coming back from injury. I'm so used to it now at this stage. Only another game or two to go - hopefully I will get over that."And then, with the easy nights of winter, comes the tough decisions. True, there is a Sunday in every week but if you are in Croke Park tomorrow, it might be as well to doff your hat at big Walsh as he walks by. Just in case.
