
‘The halfway line is my enemy' – Armagh's Ethan Rafferty frustrated at restriction on goalkeepers under new rules
ARMAGH keeper Ethan Rafferty sees the halfway line as his nemesis under football's new rules.
Goalies can only receive the ball in open play from a team-mate if they cross the halfway line or if they are in their own small rectangle and are given the ball from the big one.
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Rafferty loves to roam upfield, even scoring a point in
Armagh fired five two-pointers to gun down the Sky Blues as the hosts kicked 17 wides.
But Rafferty feels keepers are missing out on all the fun parts of the FRC's new rules.
The Orchard No 1 said: 'I just wish I could get up more in the game. The halfway line is a bit of an enemy for me at the minute. Some people are happy about it but that's just the rules.'
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Dublin were 0-6 to 0-3 up after the opening quarter two weeks ago, but Armagh came roaring back, kicking three two-pointers to take a 0-13 to 0-9 half-time lead.
Rian O'Neill and Rory Grugan nailed a combined five two-pointers in all against Dessie Farrell's men.
Rafferty explained: 'We had a wee bit of a gust in the first half against Dublin, so Rian nailed the first two-pointer. If you get the first one you sort of settle into it.
'We went from maybe three points down and kicked two or three in a row and were a couple of points ahead, but if Dublin kicked a couple of them in the second half, which they're well capable of doing, the game is different.'
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That victory sealed top spot in Group 4 for the All-Ireland holders and a quarter-final berth.
It means they could rest easy ahead of tonight's clash with Galway — a repeat of last year's Sam Maguire decider.
GAA fans 'loved seeing and hearing' the late Micheal O Muircheartaigh as he features in RTE documentary Hell for Leather
Pádraic Joyce's men will be out of the Championship if they lose and Derry pull off a result against Dublin in Newry.
Rafferty knows Galway will be eyeing revenge but, having lost the Ulster final to Donegal, Armagh want to keep up this winning run in their quest to retain Sam.
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He said: 'We still have a massive game against Galway.
"I'm sure they would have been seeing us in the group after we beat them in the final last year, so we know it will be a tough match and perfect preparation going into a quarter-final.
1
He's among the best ball-playing goalkeepers in the country
'We're 2024 All-Ireland champions but we're playing the 2025 Championship, so it's in the rear-view mirror.
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'We have to look forward and that's just been our thing this year, trying to see where we can improve and get better.
'You will get bumps on the road obviously, like the Ulster final, but we'll take this challenge against Galway and go head first into it.
'It's a good challenge for us in our mindset knowing that the game doesn't matter for us.
'We still have to try and get two points. That's the challenge.'
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Irish Times
an hour ago
- Irish Times
Johnny Giles was the footballer, John Giles was the pundit – both were geniuses in their own way
Forget honesty of effort, forget doing your stuff. The first time I became aware of Johnny Giles , he was doing a rabona. Nobody called it that, not at the time he did it in March 1972 nor whatever year in the 1980s it was when I came to see it on video. But he pulled it out, insouciant as you like, in a famous passage of play during a Leeds game when they were 7-0 up on Southampton. Even now, when you look it up on YouTube, the astonishing thing is that none of the Southampton players went over and buried him for it. Leeds were, to put a Fifa-approved technical term on it, prick-acting about – Billy Bremner was doing keepy-uppies and back-heeling passes for no reason other than to embarrass the opposition. Given that it would have taken the wielding of a chainsaw to be sent off in those days, it was always a wonder Gilsey didn't get a slap for his messing. God alone knows why we had it on video. Ours was not a Leeds United house, nor anything close to it. But it was there, along with footage from the 1984 Uefa Cup final between Spurs and Anderlecht – again, no idea why, for we were even less of a Spurs house. I suspect it was more that we were a house where a football-obsessed little boy lived and so any small bit of it that was on, somebody hit record. READ MORE So that was my introduction to Johnny Giles. And for years, it was the only thing I knew about him. I was too young to have seen him play and his time as Ireland manager predated me too. I knew nothing of his attempts to make Shamrock Rovers a superpower and what I now know as his reputation for being a taciturn old grouch with the media couldn't have made less of an impression. All I knew was that he was adored by old men (back then, anybody over 19 was old). That, and the one time I'd seen him do anything with a ball, he'd waited for it to bobble over to him on a cabbage field of a pitch and calmly flicked his left boot behind his right ankle to whip it down the line to Allan Clarke. 'Poor Southampton don't know what day it is,' gurgled Barry Davies on commentary. 'Every man jack of this Leeds side is turning it on. Oh, look at that! It's almost cruel.' (The 'Oh, look at that!' was Gilesy's flick). Later, when I'd see him on RTÉ as a pundit, I initially found it impossible to square the circle. Hang on, so this guy who is forever preaching simplicity and not forcing it and doing the right thing, this is the same dude that's in the Leeds-Southampton video? How can that be? Johnny Giles in action for Leeds in 1974. Photograph: Allsport Hulton/Archive Eventually, I realised I was comparing two different people. Johnny Giles was the footballer, the guy in the number 10 shirt who could do anything with the ball. John Giles was the chap on TV in the sensible V-neck, sitting there impassively as the mad fella on one side of him shook his fist at the world and the mischievous Corkman on the other side twinkled away in the presenter's chair. My generation missed out on Johnny Giles. We got John Giles instead. And it was easy to feel shortchanged about that. Instinctively, plenty of us wondered what all the fuss was about. But over time, probably because we got older and (marginally) less dumb, it became clear. Eamon Dunphy kept going on about what a genius John Giles was, what he didn't know about football wasn't worth knowing. Bill O'Herlihy kept deferring to him. Over time, you saw what they saw. Uniquely in that world, the Aprés Match lads never seemed to know what to do with him. There was no gimmick, no hook. He was who he was – straight, knowledgeable, unshowy. Paul McGrath told a lovely story years ago about being on RTÉ doing a game, back when they had the Premier League highlights on a Saturday night. He was nervous as hell, afraid of his life of freezing up on TV. They were doing an Everton game and McGrath was blanking and couldn't think of anything to say about Kevin Campbell. So Giles fed him a line about Campbell looking fit since coming back from a spell in Turkey. When they came back from an ad break, Billo asked McGrath what he made of the Everton striker and McGrath duly delivered his assessment, saying the time with Trabzonspor had served him well and he was looking a lot fitter now. When Billo turned to Giles for his take, he went, 'Well I'd have to agree with what Paul said.' John Giles makes his way down O'Connell Street as Grand Marshall of the 2012 St Patrick's Day Parade. Photograph: Brenda Fitzsimons That was John Giles. He finished up with Newstalk during the week, bringing an end to a media career that lasted twice as long as his actual playing career. Throughout it, you could tell what he stood for, always. You could tell what he thought was nonsense, always. If it didn't make sense to send your centre-half up as a spare striker in the first five minutes, it doesn't make sense to do it in the final five either. The good players take touches that give themselves time on the ball, the less good ones take touches that cut down their time on the ball. If a midfielder has found himself ahead of the ball in the opposition half, he hasn't understood what being a midfielder is. Core beliefs. Changeless as canal water. John Giles has retired at the age of 84. Dunphy's podcast has wound up, probably for good. Dear old Billo went to the presenter's chair in the sky a whole 10 years ago . The world keeps turning and new voices take over, as they should. But out on the green the other night, someone passed me the ball and I nearly threw my knee out trying a rabona. Some things last forever.


Irish Times
an hour ago
- Irish Times
Joe Ward has had to take the hits in his quest to reach the summit of boxing
When Joe Ward answers his phone he's in surprisingly good form, all things considered. Just the night before, he got word that the biggest fight of his professional career had been cancelled. Being an optimist is probably no harm for a professional boxer, a sport in which there's no guarantees of progression, or indeed, paycheques. But this seems more like he's just used to it by now, and he's trying to focus on what's in his control. He's been featured on bills all around the world that have fallen through. Shows in New York, Montreal, Boston, Dublin and now Galway have all collapsed and left the Westmeath man in the lurch. 'We got tickets in our hands, and we always get a lot of family, friends and supporters who buy them, and they pre-booked hotels in Galway. So it's a big let-down', he explains. 'It's never easy when a show gets called, because there's the time, effort, and cost of these training camps. It can be very annoying sometimes.' In a sport where Ireland have often overachieved, 'Mighty' Joe Ward was one of Ireland's truly great amateurs, winning three world championship medals. Amateur boxing has been blighted by corruption, but to its credit, it tends to offer fairly linear pathways to success. Professional boxing, on the other hand, is a big game of snakes and ladders, with very few fighters having a simple route to the summit. READ MORE Joe Ward in action against Marco Delgado. Photograph: Tom Hogan/Inpho On top of that, it would be fair to say that Ward has been particularly unlucky when he has rolled the dice. In 2019 he went pro, saying that he felt he needed to 'give it a lash' before it was too late, but his debut ended up being a bizarre and disastrous affair, with the Irishman blowing his knee out. His opponent was awarded a stoppage win, but Ward was more worried about the long-term future. 'You go pro and you get an opportunity to fight in Madison Square Garden on your debut. You want everything to go right for you, you want to be that person that really stands out. I don't know; that's boxing. It was just the freakiest thing. At that time it was just like 'my god, is this the end of the road before it really starts? Is this what it was all leading up to?'' After recovering ahead of schedule, Ward was supposed to return in March of 2020, but you can guess how that turned out. The injury, along with the lockdowns caused by Covid, meant that Ward spent the first 14 months of his pro career with a record of zero wins and one loss. He admits that things weren't going to plan at that stage. 'That was definitely another blow, sitting out of boxing with Covid. Everything was really, really slow, time passes and everyday was a battle before it had started. I was nearly two or three years behind, all down to a freak injury and Covid; both out of my control. It's been a very tough few years since I started my pro career.' A losing record couldn't have sat well with Ward after his amateur days. After all, Ward has never lost a fight on Irish soil. That streak is particularly impressive considering he fought 2008 Olympic medallist Kenneth Egan in multiple national finals. He was only 17 in the first of those fights in 2010 – a time when amateur boxing brought a major buzz in Dublin. Joe Ward celebrates after beating Dmytro Fedas. Photograph: Laszlo Geczo/Inpho 'Coming up against the likes of Kenneth Egan, a lot of people didn't really give me much of a chance because I was 17. I don't believe that the National Stadium was ever like that before, and it will take a long time before it's like that again. It was absolutely rocking. There wasn't a seat to sit down on, and looking back at it now they were amazing nights for Irish boxing.' There's been thousands of gruelling hours of training, but Ward's natural talent was clear from the minute he first stepped into his local gym in Moate, Westmeath. That was when he was only six years old; too young to join at the time, he says. Eventually though, his amateur coach Seamus Dorrington got sick of the kid haunting the front door to peek into the gym, and let him lace up some gloves. 'I was always turning up at the door and looking in. Eventually Seamus came up to me and said, 'come in and don't be messing around and hit the bag'. He wasn't paying much attention to me, then he looked over and took a bit of notice, and he said to my uncle 'that young lad is gonna be very special, just look at his footwork. Will you bring him back on Wednesday?'' It's a fitting origin story for Ward, given what he went on to accomplish, but it's the ending that's more of a concern now. Six years into his pro career, with 12 victories behind him, Ward still hasn't been able to climb the rankings. His opponent for the fight in Galway seemed to be the perfect step up: former British and European champion, Lerrone Richards. That was until Richards pulled out and the bill was relocated to Hull, where no opponent could be found for Ward. 'It's just about getting that one breakthrough fight and I felt like that was going to happen against Lerrone Richards. The fighters who are higher ranked than me know what I have achieved. I believe now that at the age of 31 that I'm better than I ever was, so they won't give me the opportunity unless I'm backed by the big guys.' There's a very limited number of 'big guys' out there, but Ward will need one of the major promoters on board, otherwise his ability inside the squared circle could go to waste. Now 31, there's only a certain amount of time left for him to reach the top of the mountain, and right now, the important question is not really whether he can do it. It's whether he'll get the chance to.


Irish Times
an hour ago
- Irish Times
Worth the wait: How Kieran McGeeney came through the criticism to show his managerial quality
In early July 2019, a week after Armagh lost by a point to Mayo in round three of the qualifiers, a former Armagh player wrote a letter to the Irish News calling for Kieran McGeeney's removal as manager. The identity of the letter writer was verified by the paper, though he didn't want his name published. Instead, he was characterised as a 'prominent former Armagh player'. Gutsy. The shadowy assassin had a scattergun. He accused McGeeney of tactical cock-ups and berated him for not changing his 'support staff' and for being 'too loyal' to players. 'It was only when us supporters were roaring on to the pitch that he reluctantly dropped them,' he wrote. The accusation that would have cut to the core of McGeeney's being, though, was that he was hiding behind a tissue of excuses. 'The post-match interview to Sky Sports [after the Mayo defeat] was most revealing,' wrote Gutsy. 'What grinds me down is the hard luck stories. 'Oh, the referee was against us, we couldn't buy a free, etc.'' From behind his mask, Gutsy pulled the trigger. 'Time to be ruthless and make a change at the top,' he wrote. 'This team is capable of winning if they are properly guided.' READ MORE If there was a constituency of dissent in Armagh, there was no heave against McGeeney at the end of that year. There were bound to be sceptics, though. In his first five seasons as manager, progress had been microscopic. In his first four seasons they had failed to win a game in the Ulster championship. It was more apparent as time went on, but even in the first half of his Armagh reign McGeeney was not swept up in the usual tides of management. For just about everybody else in that game, time granted and results gained are locked in an interdependent relationship. Forgiveness is the only variable. On Thursday night, for example, the Mayo county board buried Kevin McStay in a shallow grave after his third season because results had not met their expectations. In McGeeney's third season as Armagh manager they failed to win promotion from Division Three in the league and lost their opening match in the Ulster championship. After a charmed run in the qualifiers, they met Tyrone in the All-Ireland quarter-final and lost by a pulverising 18 points. How good were Tyrone? Dublin beat them by 12 points in the semi-final. From the scene of that blast, McGeeney walked away with barely a scratch. The common thread in McGeeney's 18 seasons as a manager, though, is that he has never lost a dressingroom. When McGeeney was ousted from the Kildare job in 2013, after delegates voted by 29-28 to make a change, the players fulminated on social media. Kieran McGeeney with Johnny Doyle and Seanie Johnston during his time as Kildare manager. Photograph: Donall Farmer/Inpho 'I've never been ashamed to be a Kildare footballer, until tonight,' tweeted Eamonn Callaghan, the Kildare captain. 'A disgraceful way to treat a man who put so much heart and effort into Kildare football,' said Emmet Bolton. 'Brainless fools,' said Alan Smith. 'A black day for Kildare GAA,' said Johnny Doyle at the time. 'I've never felt as empty.' [ Malachy Clerkin: Mayo's decision to oust Kevin McStay was fair enough but the way they did it was foul Opens in new window ] 'When he came to Kildare, he totally immersed himself within the county,' Doyle says now. 'We felt that we were the most important people in his life. Everything he did was to make us better. Challenged us, absolutely. Could be very hard on us at times. But what I liked was the honesty he brought. He got rid of a lot of excuses.' The only context for McGeeney's time in Kildare now is hindsight. This weekend is the 21st edition of All-Ireland football quarter-finals. Kildare have contested just six of them; five of them were under McGeeney. The only quarter-final they won was also under McGeeney and that may have been part of the problem. He created an expectation of success that became the barometer for his performance. Kieran Donaghy and Kieran McGeeney during Armagh's Ulster championship game against Antrim earlier this year. Photograph: Bryan Keane/Inpho It was like Aston Villa sacking Martin O'Neill in 2010 for finishing sixth in the Premier League for the third season in a row and then waiting 14 years to finish in the top six again. Since McGeeney left the only other quarter-final Kildare have contested was against Kerry ; they were annihilated by seven goals and six points. 'Some of the rubbish that went on around the time [of his removal] was crazy,' says Doyle. 'That he was bleeding the county dry, and all this bullshit. It was a brilliant part of my life. You were up there competing; you were playing to packed houses in Croke Park. 'Twice we went away on training camps. I had never been away on any of those trips. We raised a few bob and went away. You felt like, 'We're up there with Kerry. Why can't we go on these trips?' The vast majority of the players wanted Kieran [to stay].' McGeeney's capacity for engaging with players is at odds with his public persona. Like Ryan Moore, the champion jockey, McGeeney is suspicious of microphones, or ambivalent at least. The hard-nosed, steely-eyed, granite-jawed image he projects cannot be the whole truth. Players couldn't become attached to that. When he worked for a few months in 2014 as a consultant with the Tipperary hurlers, his effect on Séamus Callanan, by the player's account, was transformative. In Kildare, Callaghan said that he changed his lifestyle and how he thought about football. Nobody can just barge in and make those changes: players must open the door. Enda McNulty, the former Armagh player and performance coach, has known McGeeney for more than 30 years. 'For people that wouldn't know him, what they wouldn't recognise in Kieran is that he's incredibly empathetic,' says McNulty. After the All-Ireland last year, Charlie Vernon spoke about the togetherness McGeeney fostered in the group over many years. The pursuit of winning couldn't just be transactional and cold; it depended on feelings. After the All-Ireland last year, Charlie Vernon spoke about the togetherness McGeeney fostered in the group over many years. Photograph: Oisín Keniry/Inpho 'He'd refer to guys he played with as being his friends,' said Vernon. 'Kieran's was a Spartan attitude: the closer you were off the pitch, the better you would be together on the pitch. You can't force these friendships, but he wanted Armagh to be like a club team.' Aaron Kernan played alongside McGeeney for a few years, and under him for a season when he was Paul Grimley's assistant in 2014. He didn't change from one setting to the other. 'Anything he does in life, he's all-in,' says Kernan. 'It's a bit easier to get that buy-in when you've done it yourself as a player. The big thing for him is not everybody is going to like you, but they have to respect you if you're trying to get success. Creating the environment where the bigger picture is all that matters is very, very hard to do at the best of times. It's extremely hard to do when you're not winning. 'For Kieran, mediocrity or substandard stuff just doesn't come into the equation, but there's a fine balance with that. There can be a lot of collateral damage on the way to ultimately getting success.' In McGeeney's case there have been some mortifying defeats. In his rookie season with Kildare they lost to Wicklow, who had finished 27 places below them in the league; it was the first time that Wicklow had won a championship match in Croke Park. 'Clearly, this must rank as one of the great disasters of Kildare football,' wrote Eugene McGee in the Irish Independent. Two years later Kildare were knocked out of the Leinster championship by Louth , when they were a mid-table team in Division Three. In 2012 Kildare lost an All-Ireland quarter-final to Cork by 13 points. None of those performances tallied with McGeeney's livid rejection of losing. In Armagh, the suffering continued. In his second season as manager they were relegated to Division Three, losing by 17 points to Cavan along the way. In the Ulster championship two months later, they lost by eight points to the same opponents. The criticism on The Sunday Game was so vitriolic that the Armagh county board made their displeasure known to RTÉ . Kieran McGeeney and Joe Kernan with the Sam Maguire Cup in 2002. Photograph: Lorraine O'Sullivan/Inpho 'I have good footballers in there,' said McGeeney after the league beating. 'I mustn't be doing the right thing with them for them to perform like that. I have to change what I'm doing because I don't think they're that bad.' And yet there was never any whiff of mutiny. Players didn't walk away, or brief against him. They had his back. 'There are times you do feel you have let him down,' said Mark Shields in 2019. The Armagh county board were remarkably patient and loyal, too, but there were other layers to that relationship: keeping McGeeney on board made business sense because fundraising is integral to the service McGeeney provides. When he took on the Kildare job the county board was a financial basket case, but McGeeney took fundraising for the team off their hands. In 2012, the Kildare county board reported a surplus for the first time in six years, even though team expenses had been €525,000 for that season. In Armagh, he has provided the same service. By 2019, the county board was 'in the black' financially, after years of being in the red. McGeeney's capacity to run a self-sufficient operation was critical to that change in circumstances. And yet McGeeney's survival for so long in the job without any significant success was extraordinary. 'I met Arsene Wenger at a workshop 10 years ago,' says McNulty, 'and he spoke for half an hour about motivational stamina. He spoke about staying motivated when people are criticising them, challenging them, maybe even sticking a knife in their back. But to stay going. Kieran is the epitome of motivational stamina.' [ Football prelims had a whiff of predictability, but it's anyone's guess from here to the final Opens in new window ] Wenger had a similar experience at Arsenal in his final years: not winning anything; not sacked. In that case, waiting didn't work. In Armagh, the waiting nearly reached a bloody end in 2023 when there was a push against him from a rump of disaffected clubs. The county board executive supported McGeeney en bloc and the heave was comprehensively routed, 46-16. 'It was really difficult on Kieran,' says Kernan. 'It was hard to accept given everything he had done as a player and as a manager. My father [Joe] won four Ulsters [as manager], an All-Ireland, a National League. But I know by the time he was finishing up there were players on the county team who thought he had overstayed his time. 'I know those conversations happened. It was hurtful for me as his son and for us as a family because of everything my father had given and the success he had brought. But the reality is some people don't give a shit. They don't care what you've won. They just look narrowly.' McGeeney was spared that indignity. Armagh won.