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Pádraic Joyce, whose photo you'll find in the dictionary under the listing for 'classy footballer', has called it a day. He seems like the last of a dying breed, a player born before the 8-meals-a-day regimen, a player who seemed to roll out of the womb destined to play gaelic football. I saw him play in person once - in the Galway senior club final against Ciaran Murphy's Milltown. It was a dire afternoon and you could tell the setting felt beneath him, but with the game on the line in the second half, he took care of business for Killererin.
Here's a characteristically Joycean point that Padraic scored back in '94 minor final against Kerry: he bobs and weaves until he gets he find the space to slot over from a pretty difficult angle.
