ON Saturday I got a lift to the Mayo game with a lad from Ballina. As we got close to MacHale park, two hours early, there were parking spaces everywhere. “There’s one,” I said. He drove past it. “There’s another one.” He drove past it. “I don’t know how to reverse Joe,” he said. “How did you get a licence?” “I didn’t.” Only in Mayo.

Before the game, everyone was talking about David Clifford. Like touching Maradona. By half time, Kerry were seven behind and David O’Malley, solicitor and Ardnaree Sarsfields man, said,”Clifford is over rated.”

In the first half, Kerry were suspiciously poor. Many years ago, a friend of mine who was a good club footballer and a very good soccer player who played in the Irish league, told me that shortly after his debut, on their way to a cup game, the bus stopped at the bookies and they all trooped in and bet on their opponents. Watching Kerry in the first 35 minutes, I wondered…

The Mayo folk were mystified. Kerry played with the enthusiasm of holiday makers on a walking tour of Ukraine. The glamorous brunette said, “How can they be so poor?” By the 30th minute it was 0-12 to 0-3 for Mayo and you would have thought Mayo had a gale force breeze.

When Brian Ó Beaglaoich took the bad look off the half-time scoreboard with a brilliant solo goal in the 32nd minute, it didn’t seem to matter. The Mayo lads went off down the tunnel to the usual rousing ovation and all was well with the world.

It is the best county in Ireland. In Mick Byrne’s famous public house in Castlebar before the game, I couldn’t buy a drink. A crowd of Kerry lads on a stag who were in great humour surrounded us.

When O’Malley asked to see a picture of the bride to be and the groom showed him, he said, “You’re going to need a pre-nuptial agreement son.” Another round was called and we ended up jogging to the pitch in time for the throw-in.

A friend of mine who is a serious punter told me once he never bets on or against Mayo. He says they defy logic. At half time in the 2021 All-Ireland semi-final they were 0-10 to 0-3 down to Dublin, who looked to be waltzing towards the seven in a row. Mayo were atrocious. People were leaving.

In the second half, they played brilliantly and in extra time they completed an extraordinary comeback, before flunking the final against Tyrone. They were and are beyond analysis.

Here, they came out for the second half like the Kilkenny footballers. Within five minutes, their lead was down to three. Soon after they were lucky to still be a point ahead after Conor Geaney fisted the ball over the bar when he was clean through against the goalie.

Down’s Sean O’Neill, the greatest ever number 11 and team of the millennium alumnus, said to me once, “Take your points and the goals will come? Nonsense. Take your goals young man. That’s a forward’s job. If you absolutely cannot score a goal, then and only then settle for a point.” Geaney’s abdication of responsibility was to prove costly. When Clifford, who had been very well marked by Donnacha McHugh, kicked a point to put Kerry two ahead with ten minute to go, it looked all over.

Then, Aidan O’Shea, who until the last quarter resembled a Greek statue with fewer moves, caught the next three kick outs. The third of these was one of the most stupendous high catches I have ever seen, drawing gasps from the huge crowd, reminding me of the Derry poet’s line about the “fabulous high catcher”.

After that, the atmosphere was electric. The pivotal moment came in the 67th minute after the brilliant Ryan O’Donoghue had put Mayo a point up. Kerry were awarded a 45 metre free and David Clifford stepped up to attempt the two pointer. “Oh shit,” said the Mayo man beside me. Clifford rolled the ball in his hands, bounced it, then kicked it high and accurately.

It seemed to be dropping over the bar, but when Colm Reape caught it above his head at full stretch, there was a colossal roar. “I told you he was over rated,” said O’Malley.

From the kick out, Kerry won possession, but when they were turned over by frantic Mayo tackling, and Mattie Ruane kicked the clinching point, it sparked an ecstatic pitch invasion.

It would have been churlish of Sean Hurson to remind everyone there were still 20 seconds left on the clock.