We haven't been able to take payment
You must update your payment details via My Account or by clicking update payment details to keep your subscription.
Act now to keep your subscription
We've tried to contact you several times as we haven't been able to take payment. You must update your payment details via My Account or by clicking update payment details to keep your subscription.
Your subscription is due to terminate
We've tried to contact you several times as we haven't been able to take payment. You must update your payment details via My Account, otherwise your subscription will terminate.

Trouble in Killarney

Cork are aiming to end a run of 16 years without a win in the town and this time they travel as champions with Kerry appearing to be weakened

They will load their cars, buses and trains and kiss their loved ones goodbye in Cork this morning before setting their faces to the western frontier and the mountain passes that guide them into Kerry. Some will trundle in convoys through Barraduff onto the junction at Lissigiveen. More will edge slowly through Macroom. When they reach the tight bends outside of town, some tweeters might recall this as the place where a double-sneeze almost sent Paul Galvin careering off the road a few weeks ago.

The traffic and the road quality turning almost to dirt track in Ballyvourney will make others wonder why they didn’t book a room below and make a proper weekend of it. They will remark on the number of cars on the road. Cork hasn’t brought this many people to Killarney in a long time.

Something is up.

By the middle of last week all the stand tickets were gone. Munster Council officials were happily reporting a few terrace tickets were still left. Cork are coming as All-Ireland champions. Even after years spent keeping a few strides ahead of Cork, Kerry were still getting a pang in their guts to take them down. Cork’s record in Killarney has never been good, but 16 years without a victory is their longest stretch, excluding the 54 years between 1891 and 1945 when they met just once in Killarney.

The hurt has been great but never dug into Cork like it might between other rivals. It’s a tricky knot to untangle. Killarney always welcomed Cork in high summer. People make Cork-Kerry part of their holidays. The pitch is immaculate and beautifully perched over the town, the mountains a backdrop with a bruised purple hue of heather dropping like a veil over them and the church spire rising in the middle distance like a Constable painting.

Advertisement

The stewards are pleasant. The crowd is hemmed in tight around the pitch. People remember Colin Corkery finding a path back through the crowd hunched on the sideline after the terraces broke their banks one year to take a free kick. When he was a child, Kieran Donaghy watched Pat Spillane tumble out over the line in front of him, his head cracked open. The newspaper picture the following day captured the moment, Spillane bleeding with Jack O’Shea standing over him, a skinny kid in the background looking on.

Where Páirc Uí Chaoimh is a cold, unfriendly concrete bowl, Killarney gives its visitors a hug before it breaks their hearts. “No matter what way things were, even if Kerry were going through a dominant period, you’d have no fear going down playing there,” says Ronan McCarthy, Cork defender in the late 90s. “I don’t what it is. We always liked it.”

That was Killarney’s hidden strength and Cork’s weakness. Back in 1982 Cork almost caught Kerry in Páirc Uí Chaoimh and killed talk of five-in-a-row months before Offaly stuck their claws in them. Kerry’s response was so devastating in Killarney the locals enjoyed the evening sun not talking about five-in-a-row, but six.

“It’s always crazy down there,” says Joe Kavanagh. “The surface is beautiful. The crowd is that bit closer. There’s no other place like it. The pitch often felt smaller than the Páirc. It always looked really crowded around the middle. Kerry always knew how to make space for their forwards inside. Sometimes the Cork forwards seem very one dimensional there. There never seemed as much room for them.”

Cork in Killarney has often provided their history with a pivot. When Cork finally brought Kerry down after 13 years of servitude in 1987, it happened in Killarney. Back in 2000 and 2002, when the balance of power could have tilted either way, Kerry did enough to take control. When they met in 2002 the rain poured down and Colm Cooper didn’t survive to half time on his first big day against Cork. The Cork team arrived before the game with the ground completely empty. People were sheltered in the bars watching Ireland play Spain in the World Cup, but they hadn’t forgotten. Over 30,000 were inside and soaked by the time the game began. “Even on the worst day imaginable,” says McCarthy, “the place still filled up.”

Advertisement

In recent years, the timing of Kerry’s wins has also been immaculate. In 1998 with Kerry as All-Ireland champions, Cork got a goal to hit the front with 15 minutes left. Kerry raced downfield in the next attack for Maurice Fitzgerald to poach one back and break Cork’s spirit. In 1991, just when Cork came with two All-Irelands in a row, notions about beating Kerry for a third successive year and thoughts on empire-building, they got caught.

“We threw that game away,” says Larry Tompkins. “That’s not taking anything from Kerry on the day, but we were a way better team. We were a bit slack in the heads. We should’ve crushed them for a period the way they crushed us. You have to be ruthless in your approach. Kerry are the masters, and to beat them, you must have confidence in yourself. Forget driving over the county bounds and that aura. You must feel you’re worth your salt, and know you’re the better team.

“People have the wrong perception. For supporters, the crack is great. The atmosphere is good, but for players, you must be focused and forget that. The crack is only great if you beat them.”

In his time as a player Tompkins never lost a game in Killarney until his final one in 1998, and represented everything about Cork that worried Kerry. He was a confident, natural footballer. He was driven. He didn’t care for names or tradition or hospitality. When Kerry hit a goal in the final minute to almost steal the 1987 Munster final in Cork, he stood over a free seconds later and converted it to force the replay. Kerry didn’t spook him. Cork travelled to Killarney with 13 years of beatings behind them, ready to finally win.

“In the past a lot of the lads had suffered against Kerry and supporters and players had become used to going down to Killarney, taking a beating and staying for the crack,” he says. “That was the scene. But we had good leaders then and the bit between our teeth.

Advertisement

“A lot of the more experienced players didn’t like the old situation of just going down and accepting defeat so easily. Cork had gotten into a rut in relation to accepting that scenario — let’s go down to Killarney but we know the result even before we leave.”

When Tompkins took over as manager, Killarney was a hard place to visit again. “We had a very serious panel of players and leaders, fellas who’d take three or four Kerry lads on their back and not care who they were. It was hard to find that when I managed, and you’re not going anywhere against Kerry if you don’t have four or five guys who stand out and can take the game by the scruff of the neck.

“Kerry had leaders then where we probably didn’t have them. Darragh O Se could completely influence the game on his day. They’re the type of players you need.”

Cork travel today believing they finally have them, but Kerry will always plant doubt. Last year Cork dominated in Killarney and led by four points with 15 minutes left, but ended the game clinging to a draw.

They travel as champions this time, with Kerry weakened, history tilting gently towards them and patience wearing thin. “This is a golden opportunity,” says Kavanagh. “If it doesn’t happen this year, you’d wonder when?”