Anthony McIntyre ⚽For this one I wasn't quite on my own.
Just without my perennial match day companions Paddy and Jay. Drogheda were taking on Cork at Turner's Cross so I decided to make the trip and stay overnight with a friend and old union colleague, Joe.
From Drogheda, it is about four hours travelling: train to Connolly, Luas to Heuston, train to Cork. I had been up pretty early so knew I would be in for a weary day. Worst part of it was the train being so packed with passengers that I had to stand until we reached Portlaoise. As soon as a seat became available a much younger guy offered it to me. It was appreciated - reading Kindle while standing on a fast moving train has its own challenges. I had started The Phantom by Jo Nesbo. It is the ninth in the Harry Hole series. He is an Oslo cop whose his trials, tribulations, adversaries and alcohol, feed my addiction to Scandinoir. The journey, and return trip, seemed quite short as a result.
As soon as I reached Cork myself and Joe made for the nearest pub and downed a few before heading up to his place for something to eat. We cracked open a bottle of Black Bush just to put us in the mood. I had backup in the shape of a hip flask brimming with Jack Daniels that would accompany us to Turner's Cross.
The one previous occasion I had been in the stadium it was along with Joe a few years back. There was no game on but I had wanted to see the ground so he took me over. We gained access surprisingly easily, simply walking through an opening and to the edge of the pitch. Seemed we were the only two people in the ground.
Having sauntered into town all the way downhill from Joe's place, we were on time for kickoff. That however, soon started to go awry courtesy of Cork taxis simply not being easy to locate. We tried hailing a number of them but to no avail, eventually finding a rank. By the time we got to the ground Drogheda were a goal to the good, a screamer apparently from the cultured boot of Shane Farrell. Our disappointment at missing the action was soon swept aside as the hip flask emerged and did its work. Cork languish at the bottom of the table but a Martian would never have been able to work that out had he just arrived at the ground from Mars with no knowledge of current form. We were behind the Cork goal but had to crane our necks to follow the play, so much of it took place in the Drogheda half. Unfortunately, it has been the way with Drogheda for a while now. Unconvincing performances. When they achieve the odd victory they seem to scrape by. Often grinding out a win is the mark of a championship winning side, just that the Drogs look anything but that. A heavy defeat to Derry at the Brandywell last evening apart from dampening my birthday celebrations daw them slip further away from pole position.
The failure to maintain possession came to a head at the end of the game. The fourth official had announced seven extra minutes. There seemed no reason for it other than a punitive one. I had commented to Joe after Luke Dennison's yellow card for time wasting that the ref would seek to exact a price from the Claret and Blue by adding on more time than was justified by stoppages. Dennison, a fine shot stopper, is inviting trouble when he dallies too long in possession. A yellow is not a good return on few seconds gained here and there. It is definitely not worth the amount of time that can be added on particularly when the Drogs seem to be jaded as the game reaches its final moments. A goal in front was no guarantee against a Cork side on the prowl for an equaliser. Horror of horrors it came in the 96th minute, in front of the lowest crowd of the season at Turner's Cross, when Josh Fitzpatrick managed to deliver a superb cross to Djenairo Daniels who drove it home with aplomb. Deja vu - Drogs fans have seen it all before. I had to put up with Joe's delight next to me - a Cork dog with two tails and not knowing which one to wag.
Dispirited by the turn of events, we nevertheless applauded the team as they approached the away end on the final whistle. We instinctively grasped just how deflated the players and staff were after a so near yet so far moment. But the greatest clash of the night was yet to come. As manager Kevin Doherty was acknowledging the travelling contingent, a fan in the same row as myself started to complain. Later when I asked him what exactly he had said he told me that his gripe was that Drogheda threw it away at the end because in the last eight or so games they had about thirty per cent possession of the ball. Kevin Doherty was incensed and lost his cool. He had to be physically restrained by stewards and players from entering the spectators enclosure to face down a fan who was not for backing down.
Myself and Joe had a ringside seat for the acrimonious exchange. We were both amazed at what was unfolding in front of our eyes. Even An Garda moved to position themselves between the two protagonists, it seemed that close to turning violent.
The fan insisted that he he was entitled to an opinion. It was not a view shared by his fellow supporters who left him to plough a lonely furrow while they showed deference to the authority of the manager. I was not entirely at odds with the fan's opinion given the amount of possession opposing teams manage to secure when facing Drogheda. I just think the time and place was wrong to be giving out, too volatile, emotionally charged, no place for cool heads. The brooding atmosphere generated by a kick to the swingers in the dying seconds of the game was not conducive to a rational discussion.
Both fan and manager were in the wrong. They had allowed the late sucker punch from Daniels to push them over the edge. Both know that Drogheda walked away with two points less than they should have and took their frustration out on each other.
Kevin Doherty, in the public eye in a way that the fan is not, will have risked more. He should have told the berating fan that he would address the criticism another time and simply move on to exchange applause with the rest of the fans.
The Drogs are not in a dire state despite a poor run of form. They are still in the top half of the table. When a vacancy came up at Shelbourne courtesy of Damen Duff's abrupt departure, there was no rush of fans urging Doherty to fill it. There seemed more of a trepidation that he might.
The Drogs are not in a dire state despite a poor run of form. They are still in the top half of the table. When a vacancy came up at Shelbourne courtesy of Damen Duff's abrupt departure, there was no rush of fans urging Doherty to fill it. There seemed more of a trepidation that he might.
After the game Joe and myself ended up in the Mutton Lane Inn. A relaxing way to finish a day in Cork much as we had started it.
The night's soccer might not have been scintillating but the sparks cascading at the end of the clash meant that we could hardly claim we did not get value for money. We bought tickets for one event and ended up getting a double bill.
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