Latest missed chance is the toughest for Tipp to accept

By Thomas Conway

Waterford, take a bow. That was, quite simply, epic. To qualify for a first All-Ireland final in 78 years is a glorious achievement in itself. To do so in the manner in which the Déise did last Saturday in Nowlan Park is quite something.

Forced into a corner with their backs against the wall midway through the first-half, Waterford could have capitulated. They could have tossed their helmets in the air and given up on it all, given up on the dream. Instead, the Déise dragged themselves back into the game courtesy of an opportunist goal and gradually began to eat into the Tipperary lead. Suddenly the crowd realised that they had a game on their hands, that this thing was really on. And suddenly the Waterford supporters, which seemed to outnumber the Tipperary crowd by a sizeable margin, became vocal and energetic.

Waterford’s goal arrived in the 24th minute, precipitating a purple-patch which, theoretically at least, should have lasted until half-time. But purple-patches, by their nature, are temporary. They can alter the course of a game and ultimately decide the outcome, but they rarely last any longer than fifteen minutes. In this case, Waterford stepped up several gears and sustained that high performance level until the final whistle. It was, in all honesty, mesmerising to witness. The work-rate and application of the Waterford players was absolutely phenomenal.

Tipp worked hard, as they always do, but Waterford worked harder, physically confronting Tipp in various areas of the pitch, particularly within the middle third, where the action was at its most pulsating.

Beth Carton was the stand-out performer, and indisputably deserved her Player of the Match award. But there were others too. Midfielder Lorraine Bray was electric, while the entire Waterford half-back line were a model of consistency.

From the 24th minute onwards, Waterford performed with a sense of loose abandonment. They let go of their nerves, threw off the shackles, and just decided to play the game on their terms. That was risky, even audacious, and yet it worked. Tipp found themselves unable to contain the surging runs of the Waterford midfielders, unable to cope with Carton’s slick stickwork and uncanny accuracy. They were outnumbered, outworked, and just generally overcome by Waterford’s pace and tempo. Tipp, it must be said, fought hard, eventually reducing the deficit to just a single point.

But from the moment Brianna O’Keefe landed that monstrous long-range free in the 56th minute, it felt certain that this was Waterford’s day. They came to Nowlan Park as underdogs with low expectations. They departed the Marble City amphitheatre with a newfound confidence, a swagger, a sense of self-belief which should serve them well in the final against Cork. Whether they’ll have enough to outmanoeuvre the Rebelettes is another question, but they’ll certainly believe that the O’Duffy Cup is there for the taking.

So, what exactly went wrong for Tipp? How could a side which has looked so smooth and refined thus far this season be exposed so unmercifully on All-Ireland semi-final day. Several factors contributed to Tipp’s downfall.

The weather conditions - damp, dreary and outright miserable - did little to enhance the Premier’s prospects. Tipp are a team which thrives off quick, free-flowing camogie - best suited to a spacious pitch on a dry day. The threat that this game might descend into a scrap was always apparent, and it ultimately materialised in the second-half, when the play started to resemble a dog fight and both sides became embroiled in physical confrontations.

It was at that point, midway through the second-half, that Tipp began to lose their nerve. Whereas Waterford remained cool and composed throughout, Tipp allowed the emotion of the occasion to overwhelm them.

Some of their players, it must be acknowledged, stood up as leaders. Karen Kennedy was awesome and should probably have been shifted up the field at an earlier juncture. Cáit Devane hassled and harried and attempted to work her way into the game, but the ball supply just wasn’t there for the Clonoulty woman. Ultimately, she was under-utilised, and that cost Tipp.

Other players, some of whom had been key to Tipp’s success earlier this season, either under-performed or just failed to secure enough primary possession to make a meaningful impact. But part of the reason for that was the unrelenting intensity of the Waterford press. The Déise consumed Tipp in the second-half - they absorbed almost every attack and snapped up the breaking ball at every opportunity. The fact that they could sustain such a high work-rate for such a prolonged period of time points to the quality of their physical conditioning. Waterford are an aggressive, combative force. They confront the opposition and relish the physical challenge. By contrast, Tipp are free-flowing and dynamic, and were perhaps less suited to the attritional nature of last Saturday’s contest.

So where does this defeat leave Tipp? Ultimately, they lost this game in part because they lost the psychological battle. They tried painstakingly hard, but they failed to hold their nerve, and Waterford preyed on that psychological vulnerability.

Tipp have still enjoyed a relatively good season. Their Munster Championship triumph was a watershed moment. The value of winning that piece of silverware should not be understated, but the damage that this All-Ireland semi-final defeat will do is also considerable. Tipp have been wandering around semi-finals for some time now, this a fifth semi-final defeat in six years. Wandering, and waiting.

This was meant to be their year, their chance, their shot at glory. But that’s not how things worked out. Make no mistake, they’ll bounce back - they always do. But this particular defeat will be difficult to stomach. It’s going to be a long winter for many of those Tipp players. They’ve missed a golden opportunity, and how they respond will signify where this team is really at. But it will be twelve months before the answer reveals itself. Twelve long and lonely months.