Brendan Boylan Column: Win at all costs can have more than one meaning

The first four words in the above headline were often levelled at the great Meath teams of the 1980s and early ‘90s as a means of pouring scorn on the deeds of Sean Boylan and his mighty men. Utter bovine excrement of course. Those teams contained some of the finest players ever to grace Croke Park. As did other Royal ensembles before and after.

However, if you throw enough sloppy mud at a stationery entity, eventually some of it will stick. No matter how ill-merited the propelled dung is. Hence, those galant warriors in green and gold never really getting the credit their stellar achievements deserved.

Mind you, recent evidence suggests that the aforementioned quartet of words could - quite legitimately - be affixed to certain occurrences. Though no matter what lengths entities may be willing to go by way of getting those extra few grains of rice to tip the ******g scales - as the late great Paidi O Se once put it - in the desired direction, some days your ship just won’t come in.

When I was younger, I remember my mother singing “Trains and boats and planes took you away from me” (By Dionne Warrick) but there’s no guarantee that engaging the use of such services will prevent the end result from being a Heartbreaker! Because, you see, even if the homecoming heroes do assist with bringing home the bacon, as it were, somebody who had been playing one of the leading roles will have to be switched to the guise of Best Supporting Actor.

Sometimes, though, the stars align as if guided by somebody or something from afar and, for those on the opposite end, destiny gets taken out of their own hands. How else to explain Comeragh Rangers sensationally ending Ballymacarbry’s 42-year dominance of the Waterford Ladies Football scene.

Forty two years. Just think about that. Four and a bit decades. There are probably children and/or grandchildren of those who began the streak in the year I was born involved at the present time.

But surely at some point the question must be asked, why? Why this year? What was so different this year? With Ballymac and/or their opposition. Whatever it was, the Rangers boldly went where numerous had sought to venture over the years. Katie Murray had a night of nights, filling the favourites’ net on four occasions.

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Maybe it’s the year for it. You had Dungloe making the Donegal SFC Final for the first time since 1991, Cuala ending three more years of a chasm in terms of the Dublin SFC Final.

Now, my own club are the unfortunate holders of one of the greatest chasms in sport anywhere as it now enters the 111th year since we won the Meath SHC in 1914. Ratoath weren’t waiting quite as long as that when they claimed the Jubilee Cup last weekend for the first team since 1963. When they, incidentally, beat Dunboyne. One of three consecutive deciders our team would lose in that era.

It was somewhat ironic, then, that Ratoath faced into last Sunday’s decider with the aristocrats of Meath hurling, Trim, having lost three out of the last four finals. So there was probably a degree of trepidation as the red and white opened brightly with scores from James Murray, Diarmuid Higgins, David Murtagh and Conor Quigley.

Eventually, Ratoath and Meath’s Mr Reliable, Padraig O’Hanrahan settled Mickey Cole’s side into their stride. That said, with Higgins, James Toher and Quigley making the hard yards, Trim were upsides those who have become their rivals. Until, that is, the McGowan brothers cut loose.

Firstly, Gavin sent over a couple worldly scores from way out under the terrace. Ratoath folk will tell you that’s his favourite hunting ground. Then county footballer Daithi linked up with the industrious Cian Rodgers to put another McGowan, Jack, in for the first goal of the day.

When O’Hanrahan followed up with a point fashioned out of flick work which would’ve given the recently retired Rafa Nadal plenty to think about, it meant the Ratoath manager and his charges took a six point lead (1-10 to 0-07) over his nephews Joey and Mikey et al into the break.

Mention of the latter in particular is instructive. At no stage did he - or indeed any of the Trim attackers - manage to dominate the exchanges with their direct opponent.

That, of course, was mostly due to the sheer excellence of Domhnaill Rodgers, Cian Kelly, Darragh Kelly and, in particular, former inter county footballer Conor McGill at the back for the blue and gold. It was suggested that the now previous senior football county management dispensed with McGill’s services owing to fitness concerns, but the new regime - and indeed new Meath hurling supremo Johnny Greville - could do far worse than take a look at that cold case file.

For large swathes of the action, it appeared those waiting for the longest time were not only going to dine at the top table were going to be able to gorge on whatever they desired, but, like all good teams do, Trim worked their way back, and how. Albeit riding their luck along the way.

Though when Daithi McGowan blasted past Charlie Ennis, that appeared to be that. But no, the planes, trains and automobiles appeared to have paid off when Alan Douglas rattled the net at the Hospital end.

Throw into the mix that O’Hanrahan’s radar was uncharacteristically off with a few frees, and when Trim mustered a flurry of scores from Murray, Conor Quigley, Joey Cole and David Murtagh, there was an air of inevitability about what was coming next.

And it did. The Herculean James Toher charged at the Ratoath rearguard more like a bull than a steed and the outstretched arms of referee Conor Ferguson signalled for a penalty. Leaving the Sword Of Damocles dangling of Ratoath’s hopes once again.

But wait. In a replay of the scene from Summerhill’s clash with Tullamore last season, the Gaeil Colmcille clubman was summoned by an umpire. What was a penalty became a free, the missile was repelled and the Jubilee was headed towards Fairyhouse.

Ratoath revelled, Trim raged, but on mature recollection, that will only be with themselves.