Match report.... a long one

So crooned a famous singer from Northern Ireland. However that was the tune that I was singing in the bar of the Comfort Inn at 3am on Saturday morning.

As a City fan there are days when your belief is tested. After a string of away defeats it can be tempting to say "Ah naw, I don't want to see them lose again", but you still end up going anyway. Well results like that on Friday night make it all worthwhile.

Car loaded we set off on Friday morning for the other end of Ireland more in hope than expectation. Ask any of thos who travelled for Friday's epic and they would readily admit that if someone had offered them a draw halfway down the road they would have turned back there and then.

It was set up for a cracker. A sell out crowd for a semi-final, Cork unbeaten at home and Derry on a run of seven unbeaten games. It had all the ingredients of an unmissable game an it was this thought that comforted us as we made the long trek southwards.

We hit Cork around three and despite the complexities of Leeside's one-way system we managed to find the hotel. Even as we left the car people were coming up and asking us if we had any spare tickets. Considering that we didn't even have out own tickets at this stage, never mind spares, we were a little edgy. Having checked in and deposited the gear it was time to hit the town. We found out how to get to Turner's Cross and decided that rather than hang about we would head out stright away and ensure that we got tickets.

All the way out to ground there was a tangible buzz about, from the burger vans setting up three hours before to the continuing stream of pleading locals looking for tickets. Having eventually found our way the ground around five-ish we saw a large queue- people waiting for tickets. We were directed to knock on the gate and we would get sorted out. Despite wearing a Derry shirt, scarf and hat the first question I was asked, "Are yee from Derry?"

My Northern accent seemed verification and two tickets were pulled out from inside a coat pocket and we were in. We had the tickets- at least we would get in. Outside the queue for tickets was still growing and it felt like you were at an All-Ireland such were the numbers looking for tickets.

Having at least secured entry to the game it was time to retire to the Horseshoe Inn for a pint or two beforehand. We were amongst the first Derry fans to arrive and so managed to secure a seat. As the time passed the bar filled up and the anticipation steadily grew. Having glanced at my prized possession, the green cardboard that was to grant me entrance I saw that there was no reserved seating arrangements. This meant that if we were to e together we would have to leave early.

The Brandywell Pride crew arrived just before seven and suddenly it was just like any other game. All the regulars were there and it was like a Christmas party as people greeted each other like we hadn't seen them in years. Songs rang around the bar's jammed interior as rumours were traded. Pizza was playing, Pizza wasn't playing, we were playing five at the back- all these got an airing. Then it was time to go as anyone who knows me knows that I like to be in the gorund early.

We were directed to the seats behind the nets and then we were in. We were here- in Cork for the biggest game of the season. It was not all smooth sailing as the stewarts refused to allow the drums into the ground. We were stunned by this as in all the travels, the drums have never before presented a problem. We decided that we would go down and sort out where we were standig for the game. Even at this stage the ground was bunged and there was only one block of seats that we could get significant numbers together.

The atmosphere was electric in the ground- everything the Irish game should be. I phoned the lads beck in the bar and told them to shift or we would be all split up. They responded in double quick time and soon the travelling army were massed behind the nets. We had succeeded in getting the drums into the ground and th flags had been spread out on the pitch. It was now or never.

We were in great voice, aware of the size of the occassion and acutely aware of the feeling of disappointment after last year. On hearing the teams our fears were confirmed, both McGlynn and Pizza had missed out. Deery was to take over at right back and we assumed that Gary would slot in at right wing.

The roar when the teams took the field was tremendous and showed the potential for the game in this country- it should be like that all the time. However when the team lined out David Kelly was on the right hand side. We were all a bit shocked at this- to tell you the truth I thought back to last year when Derek Philips was told to man mark Kevin Hunt. Thoughts like this were pushed to the back of the head as it was time to sing the hearts out for the lads.

I would say that there were about 250 amongst our contingent and we could spot familiar faces in the main stand as well, a decent support taken all the circumstances. The advantage we had was that we were the hardcore- the Cork fans didn't know what hit them. The general consensus beforehand was that if we could keep Cork scoreless for a half an hour then the crowd would turn. It was obvious that many of their fans were bandwagoners and if things didn't go their way it was clear that they could turn on their own team.

So to the game. It wasn't the best spectacle for teh neutral but when your team is involved the need for "good football" goes out the window. Derry, chastened after last year seemed to settle quicker and we had two early chances when Ciaran Martyn was sent through and Devine did well to parry his effort for his corner. Derry forced several early corners and from one of them Liam headed wide when he could have down better.

This start had us all in great voice and not even the persisitent shouts to "sit down" from the home support behind bothered us. Cork had several chances of their own when they found their feet. Shooting into the Shed End, roared on by the fans in that end they pushed Derry back. Their star men, O'Flynn and O'Callaghan got much more of the ball and had several efforts on goal which the travelling support were more than glad to see sail wide. Their best chance, from what I could recall was when O'Callaghan put the ball on the roof of the net as a result of an attempted lob.

Cork, for all their new players reminded me of all the Cork teams,with their physical challenges drawing the irk of Dery fans who roared at Hubert Byrne to punish their repeated late tackles with a card.

Friars was always an outlet down the wing and Gary Beckett ran all over the place to close down advancing Cork defenders. Sensing that Deery might be the weak link Cork threw their efforts down the left wing and David Kelly was having to double up on their winger to try and stem the flow. The half seemed to go on for an enternity but as we thought, the home fans became restless and soon the only ones singing were ourselves. Half-time was welcomed by all inside the ground. Cork fans were hoping for a change of luck in the second half and City fans were more than happy with the way things were developing.

The second half was a much higher standard of football as both teams seemed to have shrugged off the weight of expectation and decided that they had to play their own game. Seated as we were behind the goal, Derry fans were in the perfect position to see the efforts of the City defence in the second period. No doubt Liam Murphy had told his charges that he didn't want a replay and they committed a lot more men forward. The pace of their front duo of O'Flynn and Callaghan, twinned with Billy Woods on the flank were their main threats.

Woods drove forward at every opportunity, giving young Kevin Deery a hard time but he was injured early in the second half and had to be replaced. Cork had several good moves early in the second forty-five but Eddie McCallion, Paddy McLaughlin and Sean Hargan improved their performance levels from excellent to super-human. They dealt with the threat of the Cork attackers and Hargan in particular was outstanding, not more so that when he got a foot to a superb cross to prevent O'Flynn firing home.

Muscles were aching and nerves were highly strung at this stage, and this was only the supporters. Cork continued to pore forward, roared on by an appreciative home support. Derry were reduced to clearing the ball, Gary Beckett doing sterling work chasing and holding the ball up.

The game still had a few twists and turns before its conclusion. On 70 minutes, O'Flynn went down after a tackle from Paddy, claiming a penalty. Hubert Byrne recieved howls of derision from the home support and of delight from ourselves when he booked O'Flynn for a dive.

Cork seemed to be still thinking about the penalty as Derry broke forward and Ciaran Martyn drove narrowly wide after being set up by Liam Coyle. Amazingly Cork then broke forward with a ball back to Gough being chased by O'Flynn Byrne whistled and pointed to the spot. As you can imagine this caused serious anger amongst the Derry fans as we couldn't see any reason for the penalty but speaking to journalists after the game they said that Byrne had claimed that Deery had been tugging O'Flynn's shirt.

The home support was in raptures but there was the small matter of having to convert the kick. Minds floated back to Russell Payne's heroics at Bohs last year and to Tim Dalton saving one the year we won the Cup. Gough looked ready and Flynn, for all his exploits, had surely never felt this pressure was there.



Candystripes Online

People often see that when you are about to die then life appears like slow motion. Well it was like that for me for that penalty. Hands were held, fingers crossed, prayers muttered and curses uttered as O'Flynn advanced towards the ball, hit it, Gough went down and....and...and..... he's saved it, he's saved it, has he saved it? yeah, he's saved it. The instant was endless and then dissolved to unabashed joy amongst the City fans, as the home support collapsed in shocked disbelief.

At this the vocal support increased once again as we got the feeling that it could be one of those nights and we were going to get a draw. There was now less than a quarter of an hour left and we felt that we would at least get the chance to have a pop at them in the Brandywell next week. Gary, shattered with chasing all night long was withdrawn for Darren McCready, with Friars pushed up alongside Liam. Another heavy challenge by Cork led to a free kick on the halfway line. Eddie McCallion launched it forward and it broke to Friars. His first attempt was blocked and then….he hit it again and it flew past Devine and into the back of the net. We weren’t sure if it was in or wide but Friars baring his torso confirmed our fervent hoped

If events before that had sent us into a frenzy, the goal caused mass hysteria amongst the supporters. I can remember jumping up and down on the seat and then the seat breaking as I went mental and nearly killed myself. Premature suicide attempt survived we continued to celebrate madly. The camera was nearly dropped several times but managed to avoid destruction as we all lept about like Duracell bunnies. With all that was happening we barely had time to acknowledge Liam Coyle as he was replaced.

It was now countdown time. Watches were being consulted with every increasing frustration as time seems to slow down. Cork, flattened by the blow attempted to rally and may have had a shout for another penalty but Byrne appeared not to see Paddy McLaughlin’s shirt pulling. Doc and Martyn continued to break down Cork moves as time ticked on. Jamie’s introduction injected fresh blood up front and he caused the tiring Cork defence a few problems. This eased the pressure on our back four who didn’t allow their concentration to slip.

Referee Byrne decided to liven up the proceedings with a few Cork frees on the edge of the box to keep our collective blood pressure at unhealthy levels. Such was the tension was that we failed to hear or comprehend that Ciaran Martyn had been given the man of the match award. Congratulations to Ciaran but surely it should have been either Paddy McLaughlin or Sean Hargan. Both were outstanding and drew out the sting of many a Cork move before it reached fruitition. The declaration that there were to be four minutes caused a few palpitations but it was within our grasp- we could hold on for four minutes, surely. Four minutes passed slowly as Cork threw everything at us while their supporters drifted off home. And then it was over.

It was over, five and a half minutes of injury time had elapsed but it was over. We were there, we were in the Cup Final. The heartache of last year was consigned to the dustbin while Alan Gough was installed in immortality. The players, matching our feelings rushed towards us, ecstatic with what has to go down as one of the best results in many a year. We had gone to Cork an won. We had come a long way since the Drogheda game in the second round when the doomsayers were predicting that it could be the end of the season.

The players delight was obvious particularly Liam Coyle and Alan Gough. Alan who had come in for some stick earlier in the season was justifiably delighted and he was nearly in tears with emotion. The same was true of Liam Coyle who as he reaches the twilight of his career knows how rare nights like this are. Waves of emotions became waves of people as we scrambled to reached the playing surface and enjoy the moment. The players continued to rejoice with the supporters while Kevin Mahon talked to Trevor Welsh of TV3.

Jim Roddy was also there and received the congratulations of everyone. Of all the fans and faces I remember, it is Tommy Gallagher that I remember the most. Removing his City shirt and holding it aloft he looked like a man who had discovered the Holy Grail. Everyone celebrated the occasion in their own way, James “Absolute Disgrace” O’Toole was sitting, savouring it quietly while madness reigned all around. Phone calls and texts were composed to those that couldn’t make the trip telling it that Richie and Jobby weren’t lying and that we had in fact beaten Cork.

We stood and sang on for three quarters of an hour, long after the home support had gone, leaving only when the floodlights were turned off. Then it was into the Horseshoe to wet dried and cracked throats, and to soak up the magical atmosphere. Pints were taken outside to wait for the players.

They emerged in groups of twos and three, all to a heroes welcome. The “Sean Friars is better than Crowe” song getting its umpteen airing as the man of hour came into view. Alan Gough received a tremendous roar from the faithful fans for his crucial denial of O’Flynn. Then it was time to head back to the hotel, a shower and a shave and out to really celebrate the night.

Everyone will have their own stories of what they did that night and some may not be for public airing but I am sure that everyone had a great night(apart from those ****er bouncers but that is another matter). The last thing I can remember is in the hotel at about four in the morning trying to teach some West Indians and a Russian the Sean Friars song while the other fans staying in our hotel collapsed in that state of drunken laughter.

“My mother always told me- there’ll be days like this”

Well that is the things about occasions such as Friday night, we are lucky to be able have nights like that. Armchair fans will never experience the buzz of nights like that and it is their own loss. Prior to it, many great days and nights have been had while following the City but I think that we might just have a new winner. Many who didn’t make it will have regrets now but all I know is that I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Roll on Halloween.

Candystripes Online

Nice description of the day/game.

Suppose the win all the sweeter for ye given the long journey - away wins always better.

From a Derry piunt of view do ye think now either penalties actually penalties?

IMO Ciaran Martyns chance before Friars scored was the most serious threat to devines goal.

Sounds like ye enjoyed it lads. Fair play and well done.