YPICAL Mayo. They finally have a scoring superstar and he emigrates. After electrifying the game as a 16- and 17-year-old, when it was announced he was going at the end of this season, the Mayo people’s disappointment was like the time the Templenoe Parish priest told his flock that Pat Spillane’s first baby was a girl. “I know we are all disappointed, but I suppose it must be God’s will.”

If Kobe was in two minds about leaving before, his doubts will have disappeared after this game. The kid flows. But Mayo are a mess, an old pals’ association, and instructing a kid who has just turned 18 to “go out and express yourself” is like backing the rider-less horse in the Grand National.

He started with a beautiful assist for the first Mayo point. Then a wonderful long-range kick pass on the run. Then a lovely solo fisted point after turning his defender inside out, then another beautiful kickpass. He was cynically fouled by the Kerry defence for three tap-over frees. But in such an unstructured mess of a team, his elegant play was futile and he was starved of possession.

Mayo’s off-the-cuff attacking style was always doomed against this extremely well rehearsed Kerry attack. They stretch the defence by always having a player at 14. The others leave the scoring zone free, waiting patiently on the edge of the scoring arc before creating screens for a team mate to loop around or cut back door. No stupid shots. All patience and watchfulness, using the dummy and change of direction constantly to wrongfoot the defence. Every game they play now their attack play is a carbon copy of their All-Ireland final filleting of Donegal. So, by half time, against a very strong gale in the first half they had scored 13 points from play from 14 shots, David Clifford was having fun and Kerry were toying with their food.

Clifford appeared irritated by the hype around the young Mayo superstar and played as though he wanted to restore order. Reminiscent of the first time the young Lakers superstar Kobe Bryant (after whom the Mayo child is named) came up against the veteran Michael Jordan.

Jordan was so intensely annoyed by the suggestion Kobe might be better than him, that he picked him up man to man, scored 30 points in an MVP performance and held the youngster to a paltry five points. Here, Clifford scored two-pointers at will from ridiculous distances, set up both Kerry’s goals with quite brilliant quick thinking and kept nodding to himself as if to say, “the cheek of them, the bloody cheek of them.”

Mayo’s hopelessness was complete when Andy Moran brought on Aidan O’Shea, who wandered around in areas of no importance, Cillian O’Connor (whose only contribution was to kick a hopeless shot into the Kerry keeper’s arms), and Stephen Coen (I have never understood what it is he does).

To add to Diarmuid O’Connor, who started at no. 6 but was taken off far too late and Rob Hennelly, who kicked a series of wides from long frees, prompting Ger Canning to pour the sugar (“To be fair, the guy is dealing with a tricky wind”). While Andy was bringing on his old friends, Jack O’Connor was thinking of the next generation of All-Ireland winners, including Thomas Kennedy, the 19-year-old wunderkind tipped to be the next Kieran Donaghy.

It was an efficient destruction by a skilled, extremely well organised team, spearheaded by the greatest ever Irish sportsman. It was so bad that very shortly into the second half, Ger was opening industrial bags of sugar and showering them over the viewer. When Ryan O’Donoghue scored a two-pointer in the second half, Ger said, “Mayo have narrowed the gap to just 15.” Later, after another Clifford two-pointer, “To be fair to Mayo they have had some very good performances in the league.” Eventually even Ger lost hope, but not the RTÉ panel. Ciarán Whelan said, “Mayo need to take the positives from this.” Colm Cooper said, “Mayo are a work in progress” and managed to keep a straight face.