FOR David Clifford, Jim Gavin’s new rules are like a can of spinach for Popeye the sailorman.

In the All-Ireland final, David had possession for a total of 43 seconds and scored 0-9 from play. In the semi-final it was only the 1-9. He scored 8-62 (86 points) in this championship campaign. This is more than any player in the Donegal squad has scored in their entire career save for Michael Murphy who managed 9-312 in 17 seasons (2007-2025, with two years out) and Patrick McBrearty in 15 seasons (2011-2025).

He is a footballing Terminator. The DC 1000. The Sunday Game panel gave the MOTM to Gavin White which was ridiculous. Just as it was nonsensical to give the MOTM in the semi-final to Joe O’Connor. Both boys played very well but it was fundamentally untrue to say they were the players of the game and condescending to give it to them. These awards are now given to Kerry’s second best player.

The reason for this is it is now universally understood that Clifford is thoroughly abnormal. It is like letting Superman compete at the Olympics. If he got the MOTM every time he deserved it, he would need to rent a warehouse for all the crystal.

In the final, he was the warhead, the difference. At 0-5 to 0-3 there were no signs of what was to come. Donegal had not settled but that is often the case with a team that plays a very high octane style. We saw this against Monaghan and Meath.

Then, in the tenth minute, David took control. A massive two-pointer, followed by another massive two-pointer suddenly made it 0-9 to 0-3 and for the first time all year Donegal were in serious trouble. Then, he was fouled giving Seán O’Shea a two-point free. Then, another solo score from play, followed by the staggering two-pointer after the hooter that spelled death.

Another way to look at it is the psychological impact on Donegal. At 0-5 to 0-3 David hadn’t touched the ball and Donegal were happy in their system, playing with confidence and hope. Then, they see him destroying this system in a way that cannot be guarded against.

After all, there is no one who can simulate David Clifford at training. “Conor, we want you to stand on the sideline 55 metres out, then ghost in at high speed and shoot two-pointers under pressure like Clifford,” would give everyone at training a good laugh.

He reminds me of Mike Tyson’s great line, “Everyone has a game plan until I punch them in the mouth.”

It was not just his superhuman scoring. It was also his creation of space for his team-mates to score and his positioning, which dragged one of the Donegal zonal defenders out to the sideline leaving them a man down. By half-time, Clifford had stripped Donegal bare. He had shown them that their mission was impossible. A good friend of mine said to me as the teams went in, “If I could put a million pounds on Kerry now I would.”

As an aside, but an important aside, David also illustrates how modern defenders have never learned how to defend. Because of the zonal systems employed over the last 12 years, man-marking had disappeared. Instead, the player in possession was shepherded to the sideline or endline before being trapped. A corner-back and full-back had little or nothing to do since full-forwards were not going to be getting possession in the danger area one versus one.

One statistic proves this point, not that proof is required: In the 2024 All-Ireland final, the six starting inside forwards scored 0-1 from play. In the 2025 final, they scored 0-24. A striking feature of the game for players from the pre Jimmy McGuinness era was how shockingly poorly Brendan McCole set about man-marking Clifford.

As the greatest ever corner-back, my old team mate Kieran McKeever put it at half time, “What is that man doing?” Worse, it had obviously been rehearsed in training. The checklist of folly: He faced up to David so hadn’t a clue what was going on around him. This allowed David to move to danger areas all around the arc and get ready to strike at a time of his choosing. He kept him in touching distance, meaning that David could wait and wait, then decide when to take off, giving himself the few metres separation he needed to score. If Brendan grabbed him and fouled as he took off, then it was a two-point free for Seán O’Shea.

This was not man-marking, it was an illusion of man-marking. McCole should have been playing four or five metres off David keeping him on the sideline side, meaning he could watch the play and David simultaneously, refusing to let him come inside.

It also meant he could see the player trying to feed David and would be in position to know where he should be moving to, allowing him to shepherd the big man down the flank. As it was, his positioning was a gift.

The linked problem was that because no one picked up the brother, he was able to solo, often on the spot near David, waiting until David made his move then feeding him. These were serious managerial failures, but as Kevin Cassidy always says, Jimmy’s systems are great until a flaw is exposed. Then, he insists on sticking to the system regardless.

The other thing to consider with David is the impact he has on his team-mates. There is no need to be nervous when he is on your team, whether it is Fossa or Kerry.

Donegal have often looked impenetrable this year. They go to the bitter end. Hyperactive, they tackle in swarms, and counter-attack in squadrons.

As Clifford penetrated the impenetrable defence at will, his team-mates’ confidence soared. Kerry were not worried. They were elated and relaxed in their work. Donegal? What was all that fuss about? This is easy.

It is the Clifford effect. He doesn’t get injured. He radiates an unusual charisma, like the greatest ones. He revels in his team-mates and in his community.

Jim Gavin’s committee have unleashed a monster. Now, they might have to consider a handicap system. Perhaps hang weights on him or limit him to six points per game, after which his scores are not counted. Maybe permit him to play one half only. Or ban him from eating spinach.