A blog post written by Conán from SC1 Sports Blog.

Shame on me.
Just two days ago I spoke on our second podcast discussing why I couldn’t see anything other than an Armagh victory today at Clones. Our defence was weak; our key players were missing; Armagh had just too much in the tank for our relatively inexperienced outfit.
Shame on me.
I spoke volumes about this Armagh team. Charlie Vernon, Jamie Clarke, Steve McDonnell’s superlatives had bells hanging off them. What about the aptitude of Ciaran McKeever, Aaron Kernan, Andy Mallon? Need I go on?
Shame on me.
Because what I did briefly brush over, rather abruptly and disrespectfully in hindsight, was that Derry’s forward line had potential to hurt the Orchard county. And boy, did they wreck havoc today amongst the opposition backs in monstrous proportions.
Yes, the Oak Leafers still had a few problems in defence, as expected. Giving young and, for me, still unproven corner back Brian Óg McAlary the task of marking Jamie Clarke was particularly baffling. The Kilrea back works hard and no one can doubt his commitment to the cause. But, unfortunately, any time I have seen him, he has always proven too light, too loose and too rash to be playing in his county’s last line of defence. But I’ll give John Brennan a break this time – a nine point victory speaks for itself.
Besides, the selection policy of the boss, apart from that one glitch which was rectified with a first half substitution anyway, was undoubtedly on the money – so much so that odds-on favourites, Armagh, seemed less lucrative by the second. Throughout the week, we had heard speculation of a possible Kevin McGuckian return to the starting line up. I backed this idea but, again, said that I couldn’t see it happen because he hadn’t played all year. I had also spoken of my desire to see the inclusion of James Kielt back in Derry’s 15 – the reality of it too easily dismissed in our podcast. Thankfully, however, in John Brennan, Derry have manager who has been there and done it. They have a leader who will not shirk the responsibility of making the big decisions. They have a winner. And by reinstating Ballinderry’s corner back ahead of former Allstar Kevin McCloy; by recalling James Kielt’s thunderous left foot ahead of O’Boyle, Brennan made some bold and uncompromising moves which demonstrated that he too believes that there is no substitute for quality – and moves which paid rich dividends in his debut year as county manager.

Admittedly, I shamefully underestimated a manager whose appointment I rejoiced for. I undervalued a man who has won senior championships with 5 different clubs. Admittedly, I got it wrong. But having spent the last 13 years arguing blindly with anyone who would listen that Derry had talented individuals equivalent to some of the top counties, maybe I was just finally broken. Maybe I had cracked. Maybe I had given up like the rest of Derry whose loss of faith was all-too-evident in the thousands upon thousands of empty seats at St. Tiernach’s Park. But the team hadn’t.
And what was to unfold before my own disbelieving eyes for 70 glorious minutes was nothing short of a massacre.
From the outset, I didn’t like Armagh’s approach. I think the 2002 All-Ireland champions like to think that they are ahead of the game. They are usually the most physically tough team in the country – strong and robust. They are always amongst the fittest. And their psychological preparation has reportedly been perfected long before other counties even copped on. But strolling out of the tunnel - their shoulders back, their heads high – towards their pre-match photograph, they looked lacklustre. I spoke with a native who explained that this was all part of a new psychological routine of confidence and identity building. They are to walk from the tunnel, as opposed to run, to portray an alpha-male conviction. That this was their territory (even it was Monaghan) and they, the jungle cats, ruled. If this was the notion they were going for, then I recommend that they part ways with their psychologist rapidly - because their attempts to relay domineering confidence got mixed up somewhere along with casual lethargy. And things never picked up from there in their final pre-match preparations as the orange jerseys engaged in some static stretching (bizarrely before exercise) and lots of chit-chat whilst their opposite numbers built progressively towards match intensity. There is a very, very fine line between confidence and cockiness and, to their detriment, Armagh went wandering too much today.
(Another thought: Whoever decided not to deploy a sweeper in front of Eoin "Skinner" Bradley and his deadly allies today - not just from the beginning, but as the game wore on and the damaged worsened - needs to take a long, hard look at themselves. Brilliant, the media now say that they didn't witness "puke football", but to leave 40 and 50 yards of space in front of Bradley and Lynch for 70 minutes is catastrophically naive)
The most pleasing aspect of my home team’s first championship semi final victory in 11 years was that after all those arguments I have had down through the years, all those times where I’ve seen baffled faces gaze back at me, after all those friends that I have lost, I finally gained some reassurance that I wasn’t crazy. Of course we have some of the most talented footballers in Ireland being produced up north. Of course our club championship is, in fact, one of the most competitive in the country. Of course the Bradley brothers, Mark Lynch, Muldoon, McGuckian and all those other relative legends down through the last decade are as good as I say. Because, today, a Derry team minus Paddy Bradley, without the services of Gerard and Joe O’Kane, without Fergal Doherty, Patsy Bradley, Johnny Bradley, Paul Cartin, and Colin Devlin, with so many question marks at the back and in midfield, went to Clones and beat the 2008 champions by almost double figures in a semi final fixture – and, for that, my faith has been restored in the ability of those willing to trudge to Owenbeg on dreary midweek nights.
My one saving grace prior to Sunday was that I did, at least, remark of the strength in our forward line and I said, “a puncher always has a chance”. Okay, I didn’t consider that we had cast-iron, heavyweight punchers capable of delivering killer blows whenever they fancied. I didn’t even deem goalkeeper, Danny Devlin, worthy of a starting spot yet he went on to produce two outstanding saves – one of which was a game-saver which prevented Armagh from closing the gap to one point and, incidentally, we went straight up and opened the lead to 7. (I think we’re running out of egg for my face) And I didn’t show enough belief in our midfield pairing who provided the remarkably efficient platform from which we launched our attacks and kept the ball away from our sometimes shaky defence. Michael Friel stepped up abundantly as the opposition 8 and 9 failed to cope with his physicality in the centre and he, along with Charlie Kielt at centre back, hoovered up and dispensed of breaking balls like they were going out of fashion. Joe Diver was Joe Diver. Hungry, explosive, energetic – a complete nuisance.
And, for once, I am proud to say that the forward line were like… well, they were like Derry players. Quick, slick, direct, devoid of any respect for their trailing defenders, and oh so deadly. Brennan yet again answered my prayers by pulling Muldoon from the full forward line to the midfield and the most naturally gifted footballer in Balinderry was absolutely delicious. Pass after pass, left foot to right foot, Enda Muldoon was, for me, Derry’s man of the match through which the entire team prospered from his evergreen heartbeat. Of course, having the luxury of picking out Mark Lynch, who won every single ball without fail, and Eoin Bradley, who once again scored a ridiculous return of 1-05 (yet not that big a deal is ever made of it is there? Because he is a Bradley after all), Muldoon was a hunter in an open forest of defenceless deer. Lynch and Bradley demonstrated everything there is to showcase for a modern day forward. The pair were out in front at will (out in front of 3 or 4 different markers, each), they twisted and turned as they pleased, they ran when they wanted, they scored off either foot and, along with Conleth Gilligan who roamed devastatingly in and out of the full forward line, produced 3 goals that a would-be sports writer has run out of superlatives and synonyms to do them justice.

Call me over-the-top, call me premature, call me a dreamer. But the beauty of today was that an apparently under-strength Derry side, a supposedly inexperienced manager, a declining fan base, went to Clones and reminded themselves and everyone around them that there is still greatness at either side of the Glenshane pass. They restored the mass faith in the underdog story but, in doing so, restored a sense that this county is not an underdog at all… not by any stretch.
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