John Fogarty
As Mountain View club members will tell you, Henry Shefflin’s house backs onto the golf course in Ballyhale.
Those hackers of a Kilkenny hurling disposition always give it a glance when they pass in the hope of seeing the great man. Sometimes, they hear him before they see him. There have been days when the thud of the ash hitting leather followed by the bang of leather hitting cement has echoed onto the fairways and greens.
A look towards Chez Shefflin and there the greatest hurler of his generation would be seen pucking against the uneven surface, anticipating a different bounce after each strike to keep his eye in. There have been days when they have only heard the Shamrocks man in his garage, creating an unmerciful racket with hurley and sliotar.
But plenty claim to have seen him leave it in a lather of sweat after a most intense work-out. The weekend after the All-Ireland final draw, Shefflin was sighted togged out with hurley and sliotar walking down the field with his dog.
Perhaps he has trained his canine friend to be his sliotar fetcher but none of the golfers who saw him were in any doubt what his intentions were. Shefflin wasn’t doing it for an audience. Few other hurlers embrace the idea that champions are made when no one is watching as much as him.
Long before the crowds come into Nowlan Park to watch Kilkenny’s training sessions, he is there practicing frees. It’s a lonely furrow he’s happy to plough. His success in negotiating serious injuries in recent years are further testament to his commitment and character behind the scenes.
He might have had John Tennyson alongside him when he ruptured his cruciate in the 2010 semi-final but no other player would have ever considered attempting to do what he did to play in the final. Even if he did break down in that game and insult was added to injury with Tipperary’s victory, he returned to avenge both the following year.
Lesser athletes would have thrown their hat at it when he was informed that his shoulder injury last autumn would keep him out of the game for six months.
After all, he had more than a good innings but he was having none of that. Let nobody be in any doubt that Joe Canning admires Shefflin. His use of the expression “not sportsmanlike” in describing his Kilkenny rival’s behaviour in the first final game was unfortunate but it seemed he was attempting to articulate a back-handed compliment to him.
With such an influence and authority earned over the last 14 seasons, it would almost be an abdication of responsibility for Shefflin not to attempt to exert some sway.
It mightn’t be wholly admirable but Richie McCaw and Martin Johnson have often led as such and were duly respected.
Before the first game earlier this month, a number of former Galway players suggested Kilkenny were out for the kill because they wanted to win Shefflin his record ninth All-Ireland medal.
It turned out, in fact, that it was Shefflin based on his performance who, bar Brian Hogan in the second half and Paul Murphy, appeared to be the most interested in grabbing another Celtic Cross.
Yet that held theory said plenty about the esteem which people outside the county — never mind inside it — hold him in. Those same ex-Galway hurlers privately believed Shefflin was going to hang up his boots had Kilkenny won last Sunday fortnight.
They would probably hold the same opinion now even though there is absolutely nothing to suggest the 33-year-old won’t be lining out for a 15th season in 2013. In light of those cruciate and shoulder injuries, Shefflin’s 15/8 odds as second favourite for hurler of the year is a ringing endorsement of his longevity but most importantly his relevance. When the rest of the Kilkenny forwards were struggling on September 7, it was Shefflin who bailed them out.
Like Tomás Ó Sé, 35 next year and Kerry’s best defender this summer, he has demonstrated that age is just a number.
When Donegal’s 19-year-old forward Paddy McBrearty talks about wanting to be remembered on walls in 50 years’ time he should be looking to Shefflin as his role medal, regardless of codes. Already this week, Jim McGuinness has spoken about Kilkenny being an example for Donegal to follow.
But Shefflin is the very embodiment of Brian Cody’s Cats – motivated to the precipice of ruthlessness, determined to the point of obsession. And yet, as much as his inter-county career is inextricably linked to Cody’s managerial reign, alone he stands as a hurler who never believed his natural talent was sufficient enough to be the best.
Away from the crowds, he has always danced like everyone’s been watching.
Source: http://feeds.examiner.ie/~r/iesportsblog/~3/jtNJ5M3QbV4/post.aspx
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