James Fitzpatrick reveals to Keith Duggan why he was a doubtful starter for yesterday's final.
On Saturday evening, James "Cha" Fitzpatrick was feeling the worse for wear. The treacherous humidity of late August was threatening to stall him in a way the best of Galway and Clare's midfielders could not this summer. There is nothing to take the snap out of your step like a summer cold and on the eve of the biggest match of his life, the thought fleetingly crossed his mind that he might not be fit to line out. He was floored.
"It hit me on Thursday," he said in the tumult of the Kilkenny dressingroom yesterday, a black and amber bag slung on his shoulder and a grin stretched across his face. "Thank God it wasn't a day later because I was fierce groggy all through the Saturday. And I was doubtful for the match, being honest. But I said nothing and, thankfully, it worked out."
Fitzpatrick did as Kilkenny have being doing all year. He stayed tough and focused and mostly quiet. Whatever lingering effects of the cold remained with him were sweated out during the 70 minutes of supernova ferocity that Kilkenny inflicted on Cork. It was never going to be a day for dazzling sleight of hand or open, loose hurling and during the last quarter, when Cork went all out, desperate to rescue a match that was slipping from them, Kilkenny had defenders queuing up to perform no-nonsense heroics.
It was, as Brian Cody attested afterwards, a day of personal vindication for Noel Hickey and although the present Cork half-back line is the most praised, yesterday it was James Ryall and John Tennyson who made most of the thunderous plays alongside the ever splendid Tommy Walsh. Jinking between that high-octane unit and the roomier corridors of centrefield was Fitzpatrick.
Even in victory, Cody fell back on the word "transition" to define his team and although he did not mention the Ballyhale man, the yellow-helmeted, elusive figure of Fitzpatrick must have been dancing around in his mind.
Still a youngster in sporting terms, Fitzpatrick delivered an All-Ireland performance of eerie composure, looking like he belonged there from the beginning and playing like the day was nothing new to him. Cold be damned, he inhaled the vapours of the Kilkenny mantra and went about his work.
"Keep it simple and nothing fancy," he said later. "We knew Cork's game-plan of pass and run and we just wanted to counteract that today with extra hard work. Running out on to the field, we knew it would be a long wait until the throw-in so we just kept cool. There was no point in going mad in the dressingroom. So we kept our focus until the whistle and, like, with JJ Delaney and Donnacha Cody on the sideline egging us all on, there was great motivation.
"It hasn't really hit me yet. It feels unbelievable and, I dunno, I suppose in some ways I didn't think we could do it."
Fitzpatrick was caught on the back foot only once, in the 33rd minute when his marker Jerry O'Connor showed him a clean pair of heels and burst clean away under the shadow of the Hogan Stand. The Ballyhale man sprinted but the move finished with a terrific point for the other O'Connor, Ben.
"I would say Jerry O'Connor would do 100 metres in under 10 seconds. I would probably do it somewhere under 20 seconds. I was thinking: just don't let him past. But he got away. I knew he would get away from me once or twice but thankfully it didn't happen too often so I was happy enough."
He had reason to be. In the taut, nerve-racking opening 20 minutes of the second half, when the All-Ireland final was hanging there awaiting a dictator, Fitzpatrick shone. It wasn't just the point with 20 minutes to go, when he thieved a breaking ball and let fly, keeping the all-important goal between the teams. In a match that hinged on small, vital interventions, the Ballyhale man made more than most, flicking a ball through the rampaging Cork defence for Richie Power's massive 50th-minute point and, after the restart, ghosting in between John Gardiner and Tom Kenny to interrupt one of those devastating Cork running attacks before it truly got going.
"Yeah, I kind of missed it and it bounced wrong and he took me out of it then. But they were coming at us at the end in waves and that kind of buoyed us up a bit. We had a bit of a cushion and we knew if we just plugged away we could come out all right."
Although celebrated as a classy, easy-moving hurler, this All-Ireland was about bread and butter stuff. Listed as the lightest man on the black and amber team at 11 stone, Fitzpatrick threw his body at wherever the ball broke during the fiercest exchanges. Then, when it mattered most, he took possession as though he had all the time in the world.
With eight minutes left and Cork still sharp and alive and probing, Fitzpatrick had possession deep in the pocket of centre field. Almost on instinct, he looked for the green head guard of Henry Shefflin drifting out to the right corner on the Hill. Fitzpatrick's high, measured ball was played away from Diarmuid O'Sullivan to Shefflin's side so that when the Kilkenny attacker gathered, The Rock was caught on the wrong side and was forced into the foul. The play killed time and delivered an elementary but invaluable score that pushed Kilkenny 1-15 to 0-12 in front.
"When you are playing against Cork you have to be intelligent with the ball and there is no point in just driving the big high ball in on top of the Cork backs. I am used to Henry from playing with the club and when Henry goes towards the sideline, you play it out to him. And it is great for Henry, myself, Eoin Reid and Michael Fennelly to be here representing Ballyhale."
He looked stunned when asked what the plans for the night ahead might be. "God. Don't know. Go mad, I suppose."
The season's work is not quite done, though. Next week, Fitzpatrick returns in search of another All-Ireland under-21 medal. "Up here again next Sunday, yeah," he says agreeably. "Ah sure, we might as well stay up here."
