The hurt of 2001 can never be repeated in the Kingdom

When you’re from a Kingdom, the idea of a Royal county prompts a bit of cognitive dissonance. Royal? We thought that was our thing. Our heritage, our birthright, writes The Kerryman's Damian Stack.

We know, we know. Historically there’s good reason for Meath’s Royal moniker. Strictly speaking there’s more of a link of kingship between the plains of Meath than the reeks and peaks of Kerry (regal and majestic though they may be).

Meath and Tara, obviously, was where the high kings of Ireland were crowned. That’s the real deal. Blue-blood stuff. Whereas Kerry’s status as a Kingdom is a bit more opaque.

Some have it that the county was dismissively referred to as ‘that Kingdom of Kerry’ in the House of Commons in Westminster owing to the locals’ tendency to do things their own way.

Apocryphal? Almost certainly. It’s more likely to do with one of the O’Connor chieftains, Ciar, after whom the county is named. Ciarraí was Ciar’s kingdom if you follow.

Part of us, though, wants to believe the story about some old fusty Tory MP fulminating from the green benches of the Commons about the wilfulness of the natives in this part of the world.

For all he – and in the nineteenth century it would have been a he – meant it as an insult (if it was ever said at all) it does sum up an essential truth about the place: we go our own way. It is a place apart.

And we like to think that our football sets us apart. It has too we suppose. It’s the way we project our sense of Kerry exceptionalism beyond these shores. People eat it, drink it, live by it, die by it.

It’s why 11 years without an All-Ireland title can credibly be referred to as ‘the famine’. Other counties can look at that and see a haughty arrogance – and we’ll not deny there is some of that there – but in Kerry, football is more than football.

To fall from the golden years to the near ignominy of the famine years – losing to Clare in a Munster final in 1992 – cut people to the quick. It affected people’s sense of who they are, ludicrous as that may sound.

Which brings us back to our friends in the Royal county. Few counties have caused as much soul-searching for the Kingdom of Kerry as Meath have done, and they managed to do it in just one game of football, just one 70 minutes of action.

Meath had beaten Kerry before, just the once as it happens – the 1954 All-Ireland final, Meath 1-13 Kerry 1-7 – but this was different. This was scarring, humiliating, on a scale which we don’t think the Kingdom have ever suffered before or since.

We speak, of course, of the famous (infamous in this neck of the woods) 2001 All-Ireland semi-final. The facts of it don't even do it full justice for what it did to the Kerry psyche. Nevertheless it's worth recounting a little of what transpired.

Kerry came into the game as fairly hot favourites as reigning All-Ireland champions and Meath, well, Meath pulled off the perfect ambush. A goal by veteran John McDermott before half-time put five between the sides at the break, 1-6 to 0-4.

On its face a recoverable position for the Kingdom, but the Royals piled misery upon misery for the All-Ireland champions, who managed just a single point in the second half through Declan Quill (the current Kerry ladies joint-manager).

A late goal by second half Meath substitute John Cullinane completed the Royal rout. The truth of the matter is, though, that not too many Kerry folk were still in the ground by the time of Cullinane’s coup de grace.

It was one of those lock the gates and make them watch type days. Thankfully health and safety regulations allowed Kerry folk their escape route and escape we did, in our thousands.

We were probably shuffling down O’Connell Street, tails between our legs, by the time the full-time whistle was blown. We get the concept of supporting your team through thick and thin… but Kerry fans were more than shell-shocked, they were shook to the core.

The inquest into the defeat was all the more frenzied as a result. It’s not for nothing Páidí Ó Sé made those comments a few years later about the roughest type of animals (my favourite part of this story is that Ó Sé followed up the incendiary comments with, ‘and you can print that’).

In hindsight it was probably beginning of the end for Ó Sé’s tenure as Kerry manager. All benefit-of-the-doubt stripped away in the aftermath of it and subsequent championship exits to Armagh and Tyrone.

The game – which we readily admit we haven't re-watched – is available to watch on YouTube on some guy called Dean Farrelly’s page. Farrelly we suspect is not a Kerry man, as most of us would rather memory hole that particular day.

Indeed, if you do happen to watch the video – and as if time of writing 7,800 people have – one thing you’ll notice is that the Kingdom are wearing some rather fetching white jerseys.

What you’ll not have seen at any time since then is Kerry wearing white in any championship or league fixture. Call it a piseog, but there’s no hope in hell that when Kerry travel north to face Meath in Navan in a couple of weeks time that they’ll be wearing white.

Since that day Kerry’s alternative strip has generally been Munster blue (barring the frankly dreadful gold shirt of a few years ago that more closely resembled a pack of twenty Bensons).

Granted Meath’s championship record against Kerry isn’t stellar – two wins from eight games – but it’s fair to say that the Royals have left their mark on the Kingdom. We’ve not forgotten 2001, we never will.