Television shots of players looking disconsolate after being beaten in finals are no less common than bad weather. Indeed, on the face of it, RTÉ's shot of Joe Canning being comforted was nothing out of the ordinary but for some reason it really struck a chord with me.
I think it was the look on Canning's face as he stared into the distance. It seemed a look of frustration more than devastation. A 'Not this shite again' sort of gaze.
Maybe it was the fact that both Galway and Mayo, the nearly counties of the GAA, lost this weekend. Maybe it was witnessing Kilkenny win yet another All-Ireland or maybe it was just my particular mood but a scary thought crossed my mind; this is all a bit pointless, really?
Why do we do it to ourselves? Why do we get so caught up in chasing some sort of promised land when even those who have already reached it describe it as nothing more than a fleeting moment before returning to reality. If Galway won yesterday, Canning et al would jump around like lunatics for a while but then that would pass and what are they left with? The memories of the journey that are probably left unaffected by victory or defeat.
The whole thing reminds me of a Tommy Tiernan quote.
I don't trust ambition. This need to achieve shit. Fuck that, like.
I want to be more like a dolphin. You know - swimmy swim, jump jump.
Is there wisdom in that somewhere? A terrifying kind of wisdom. Because entertaining the thought that is all a bit pointless is scary. You realise that the real depression is not whether you win or lose but when you realise that it doesn't matter.
Conor Deegan, an All-Ireland winner with Down in his day, has often spoke about the biggest anti-climax of his life after winning Sam Maguire. Just last month he told Off The Ball:
The final whistle went and there's just those couple of seconds of absolute delirium. And if you could bottle that you'd make a fortune. It's pure ecstasy.
But then after that you look around and you realise it's over.
If you dig deeper you'll find other sporting greats like Roy Keane singing from the same hymn sheet.
It's a thought I can't get out of my head and I'm worried by it. It may be a sad reality but then again it's one which is too scary to face. In many ways the antithesis of victory is not loss but indifference.
