Arva aimed for the stars - and reached them

Cavanman's Diary

The media, VIPs that they are, have their own entrance into the hallowed corridors of Croke Park.

Once inside, there is a short walk to the lifts. Along the way, you pass under a sign, something like the iconic ‘This is Anfield’ motif at the home of Liverpool FC.

It depicts a famous quote from commentator Michael O’Hehir, beamed around the world from the Polo Grounds. That match threw in eight minutes late and O’Hehir, afraid that some operator along the way would cut him off, famously pleaded: “And if there’s anybody along the way there listening in, just give us five minutes more…”

In the latest Cavan v Kerry All-Ireland final, Listowel may have been thinking along similar lines as the big clock ticked down.

The north Kerrymen’s heads must have been spinning. They were fancied to win this, as Kerry teams do. Theirs is a big town, over 10 times the size of Arva, and they had decamped en masse for the match - and all seemed to be going to plan when they held Arva to just four points in the first half and led by three as they went down the tunnel.

But Arva got them by the throat (“we suffocated them, ultimately,” was Ciaran Brady’s description) and didn’t let go. The feeling extended to the Cavan people watching – in the smothering tension, it was hard to breathe.

With 62 minutes and 20 seconds played, Listowel won the ball back and, in a flash, had it in the net and, the dreaded feeling rose: what always seems to happen might happen again… but the whistle had sounded and the ref was not for turning. A moment’s confusion - and all of Arva and of Cavan were able to exhale again.

How often Cavan teams have found themselves, like O’Hehir, praying for those extra five minutes. This time, they couldn’t wait to hear the long whistle.

The last Arva man to kick the ball was Brady; experience told him to lump it in long and the ref would blow it up. The national press were raving about ‘the Holla’ but, for those who have watched him for years, this was nothing out of the way. This is a player for whom the extraordinary is ordinary, a man who seems to be able to bend matches to his will.

Brady made one mistake all day that we saw. Behind him, James Morris was waiting with a last-ditch diving block to avert the danger.

“How many times in my life have I seen James Morris getting last minute blocks?” Brady would ask rhetorically afterwards.

Coming in the Navan Road, you knew there was something new about this one. There, on the footpath, bedecked in blue and white and waving flags, were the Arvas, waiting for the team bus to come by. As we passed Phibsborough Chapel, the wailing of the sirens started – and then the bus zoomed up on the right, accompanied by an escort of four motorcycle out-riders. If you didn’t know before, well, now you did – this was something different altogether.

Arva had mobilised vast support from around Cavan and beyond and they voted with their wallets as well as their feet; when the club launched an online fundraiser in the days before the final, it took in an astonishing €35,000.

Pre-match, high in the stand, we met a college friend from green and gold country. How confident are the subjects of the Kingdom, I asked.

“Yerra, they’re confident enough,” he confided, “even though there will be plenty of cute hoorism and the old béal bocht.”

Around that time, word began to filter through from the camps. “Sheridan and Ellis will start,” someone said. A promising sign; Arva would need everyone to get this job done, the logic went.

They started well but then things went awry. At one stage, Listowel scored six of seven points and were beginning to play with swagger. It was Kerry against Cavan, in Croke Park; that’s what is supposed to happen.

But then, it all changed. It was clear, in hindsight, that Arva were wired differently in the second half. Brady clattered into his opponent at the throw-in, Hofmann surged through the middle. Arva, manager Finbar O’Reilly would note later, had been “flat-footed” in the first half. Now, they were on their toes.

Hofmann’s performance was revelatory. He spent much of his formative years focusing on soccer, reaching international standard, and has been playing catch-up on the Gaelic field.

On Sunday, he got there. Later, word reached us of an interesting story. Tristan’s mother, Petra, was in Croke Park once before, we were told, 25-odd years ago, at a Tina Turner concert. Here, Arva needed another hero (apologies) and her son stepped up.

“One last thing,” Brady said at the end of his acceptance speech, “when we won the county final, I said that there would be no winter in Arva. When we won Ulster, I said Christmas would be delayed. Well now that we've won the All-Ireland, there will be a party in Arva!”

The party started at the Boar’s Head, the Arvacentric capital of Capel Street, where the owner Hugh Hourican has hosted many All-Ireland-winning teams - but never before from his own club. The place was bursting at the seams.

Homewards then, the ceremonial crossing of the county boundary at Whitegate ticked off.

Earlier, we had spoken to the players and management, who spilled their thoughts in the moment of glory. Kevin Bouchier referenced his great grand-uncle, the football boy wonder of the 1930s, Fr Harry. Club stalwart Niall Brady also remembered those who paved the way; Finbar O’Reilly spoke as he always seems to do, calmly but with passion.

James Morris, who was married on New Year’s Eve, a date equidistant between an Ulster title and an All-Ireland, was his usual ebullient self.

Already, the wisecracks were starting to ping around online, a twist on Marty Morrissey’s famous “There won’t be a cow milked…” line.

“There won’t be a loaf of bread baked, a car serviced nor fruit and veg sold,” it was put to him, in reference to three well-known local businesses.

“There will no money made in Arva,” Morris grinned, “we made enough from the GoFundMe to look after us for a few weeks anyway!”

And how well deserved. As the bonfires blazed, the achievement sank in: Arva dared to aim for the stars and they reached them. Five minutes? No – in Arva, this will be remembered forever.