04-07-2025
Feeling Blue: A Corkman in exile looks forward to the All-Ireland semi-final as the Dublin hurling melting pot comes to the boil
There was a large smattering of red jerseys in the crowd for the Dublin-Limerick hurling quarter-final two weeks ago.
Sure, the Rebel big-ballers were playing later that evening. But given their well-documented difficulties in filling the hall, it's unlikely that so many would have made the long journey early for what was presumed would be a one-sided affair.
For those that were there, you'd be forgiven for guessing they were just taking another look at Limerick – the script said they'd be seeing them again this summer.
As the game progressed, the Cork crowd were clearly roaring on the Dubs – a fact that didn't go without negative comment from those in green. But it was, I suppose, firstly a mark of respect. Clearly, Cork people were aware that beating Limerick for a fourth time in two years (when it really mattered) would be a tall order. Anyone that helped them avoid that would be encouraged. And there was the simple motive of cheering for the underdog – particularly a plucky, one-dog-short underdog.
But there's another reason for the red support for Dublin that day and it's something unique about hurling in the capital. An unscientific poll of the red jerseys revealed many exiles involved in club hurling in the city for decades.
They were there from Ballinteer St Johns and Castleknock and Crokes. They were there from Olafs and Boden, from Lucan and Judes. Men and women, no different from thousands of others from other hurling counties, who for generations have brought their own childhood sport and then their own children, to Dublin clubs, helping nourish what has always been the second game in the city.
It's a unique - unwelcome - distinction for those trying to grow the game. Every other county that considers itself a genuine contender has, at least, large areas where hurling is top dog. In most, hurling is unquestionably number one.
Once, at a Dublin hurling function, Brian Cody, in his pomp, was asked to analyse the state of both Dublin hurling and Kilkenny football. Cody spoke at length about hurling in the capital, its strengths and weaknesses at both inter-county and club level. His answer revealed a deep knowledge. He referenced demographic changes and how they might affect the Dublin clubs into the future. It was an impressive analysis. Kilkenny football, he said… "was just fine."
Not being top dog is not to say that Dublin hurling doesn't have its own proud tradition. There are parts of the inner city where inward migration mightn't be a big factor. Hurling has survived, even sometimes thrived in clubs like Kevins in the Liberties and Dolphin's Barn. There are other clubs like Kevins - Commercials and Faughs - where hurling (and camogie) are also the main, or only, tradition. But no one can argue that the big ball isn't the bigger sport in the capital. Without the blow-ins it would be even more so.
This current crop of young men who hurl for Dublin have the usual mix of eclectic backgrounds you'd get in any capital city. There's the exotic – the Currie brothers' father is from New Zealand, Paddy Dunleavy's grandfather from the Blaskets. To coin a phrase used for another island chain, "neither a hurling stronghold".
But there's real GAA pedigree on the Cork side of that family, and there are others as well. Donal Burke traces back to Offaly and Cork. The Hayes' brothers grandfather hurled for Mount Sion. Throughout the team there are roots – some distant – from Galway, and even Kerry hurling country, uprooted, but replanted and flourishing all over Dublin.
But the magnetic pull of success has always been strong for young dual players in the city. Eoghan O'Donnell's decision to go with the footballers this year robbed the hurlers of one of their best. He joined his own clubmate Lee Gannon – who also hurled for Dublin underage.
It's a well-worn path – particularly through the glory years for Dublin football. O'Callaghan, Kilkenny, Costello to name a few, back to Ryan and Keaney in their prime before All-Ireland football medals were an almost inevitable consequence of wearing blue. Through the good years for the footballers, you'd be forgiven for wondering if they'd have given the hurlers a run for their money at their own game as well.
This is the first year since forever that the Dublin hurlers have been in the championship after the footballers are gone. Until now, even when hurling in the capital threatened real success, football has always been there to overshadow them.
The last Dublin hurling team to get this far – in 2013 – had been building for a few years. A league title in 2011 was a real achievement. That was the year football fever swept the city to a first All-Ireland in 16 years. The hurlers contested four Leinster finals in six years. The footballers won something like 19 out of 20. Was anyone even counting anymore? When the hurlers finally won Leinster in 2013 and made it to a semi-final, the footballers outdid them again and laid the foundation for a decade of national dominance.
So what happens now?
No one is writing Dublin football off but clearly the Gavin years of dominance are over. What if the Dublin hurlers could make it to an All-Ireland final? What if they could win one with the footballers off the pitch?
Would it be enough to lessen the slope on the Dublin playing fields? Might the hurlers play with wind and hill for once?
Might more of the young club players on Mobhi Road, the Firhouse Road and the 12th Lock vote with their 'hurls'? Might they even learn the right name for them?
The foundations are there. In the past ten years, Dublin teams have won the same number of club All-Irelands in both codes. No other county has won more club hurling titles in that time.
Could just one visit from Liam MacCarthy be a tipping point? Enough that even some of the next generation with the option would go small rather than large?
Meanwhile, Cork hurling has its own demons. Twenty years without an All-Ireland means Cork can't afford any complacency or superiority.
The county's standing as one of the 'big three' is on life-support. Cork hurling cannot afford another winter renewing their dreams of past glory. Four losses from four appearances in finals mean they can't take anything for granted. No one who loves Cork hurling – no matter how invested in the Dublin scene – can afford to be generous or sentimental towards this weekend's opponent.
But if Dublin do the unthinkable – again – and make it to the final, there'll be a cohort of Cork people watching in three weeks' time, in Phibsboro and Rathfarnham, from Dalkey to Portmarnock, who'll have to put the disappointment of another year of waiting behind them.
They'll be cheering for Dublin in their own right, but it'll help a lot that it's Tipp or Kilkenny they'll be playing.
