I would not be surprised if David Clifford caught a bus falling off a bridge on his way to Killarney. Instead of the National Anthem, they should play the Superman theme.

In the modern game they are systems, strategies, tactics, statistics and there is David Clifford. Here, Armagh utterly dominated the first quarter. Kerry tense and hesitant, looked like a group riddled with doubt after their two Donegal thrashings. Then, with Armagh leading 0-4 to 0-1, Superman got his first touch. He dummied the goalie, went around him, lost control of the ball, then volleyed it expertly into the far corner. If he were a soccer player, Ireland would be at the World Cup.

With his second touch a minute later, he scored a brilliant point. With his third, another wonderful point. Like the English defenders at the 1986 World Cup, the Armagh defender didn’t do anything wrong. He must console himself with the fact that it is impossible to mark the Kerry Maradona.

Clifford scored another with his next touch, putting Kerry ahead for the first time, 1-4 to 0-6, in a game where his team mates had been anonymous. A minute later, he took possession again and stroked over a massive two pointer (1-6 to 0-6), as if to say to his players, “Don’t worry boys, everything is going to be okay.” There were only 26 minutes gone, but already you could see Armagh wilting. What can you do when he is on the other team?

He is Kerry’s wellspring. Their conductor. Their confidence. Their doting father. In the 32nd minute, he kicked another two pointer (1-8 to 0-8). Then, he did something else amazing that went unnoticed. I only picked it up when I watched the replay a few times.

Armagh had been playing with the kamikaze tactic of their goalie joining the attack, a ploy that never ceases to amaze me. Stephen Cluxton, the greatest goalkeeper in the history of the game, has nine All-Ireland medals and never ventured beyond the 21.

Just as Donegal ambushed Mickey Harte’s Derry a few years ago, scoring four goals into an empty net, this was a disaster waiting to happen. Kerry turned Armagh over. They kicked long and high towards Clifford, who went to jump, scanned the pitch ahead, changed his mind and instead nudged the Armagh jumper, who dropped it into Paul Geaney’s arms. After that, it was a simple punt pass to the empty net and the game was over.

By half time, Armagh had 69 percent possession and blah blah blah blah. The only fact that mattered is that Kerry had David Clifford. Having relaxed and electrified his team mates, the eighth wonder of the world dipped in and out of the second half.

He kicked a few insurance points in the first five minutes, the second leaving Kerry 8 points ahead and having made two Armagh defenders wish they were at home with their mammies. He fisted a point shortly after, meaning he had scored with both feet and the fist from play, which I like to think was a homage to a fellow God, Frank McGuigan.

He kicked an outrageous two pointer five minutes later, then literally talked Jason Foley through a score. As Foley passed the ball to him, David could be heard on the mic shouting, “Keep coming, keep coming, go left.”

He then dummied as though to shoot before giving a delightful handpass over the top to his full back, telling him to “cut inside” then “fist it over” which is precisely what Foley did. After that, he wandered about, pointing and assisting, then kicked another brilliant score to bring him to 1-10, which was half of Kerry’s scores.

Before the hooter, commentator Mike Finnerty said to co-commentator Darren O’Sullivan, “Who have you been looking at Darren?” He said, “I was leaning towards Mike Breen, but in the end I’ve gone for David Clifford.” As the bible says, “Truly, a prophet is never accepted in his hometown.”

All that remained was for David to rescue a plane whose wing had fallen off on the approach route to Shannon. Thankfully, no passengers were injured.