Tyrone v Armagh. It was the battle that the Tyrone team of the noughties had to survive.
Like any true battle, unless you had a screw loose, they were not to be enjoyed.
If the heights of that Tyrone team’s ability came out in the games against Kerry, the strength of its steel was tested by the men from Armagh. Again and again and again.
The key battles were fought over only a few years but the way they have stayed in the collective memory speaks volumes for their era-defining nature.
The ‘why?’ in my book is fairly rudimentary. Both counties had toiled for over 100 years without an All-Ireland between them. For a team to win it in such a circumstance, they were going to be footballing Gods about home.
The problem is, both landed upon their dreamed of All-Ireland-winning crews in a window that overlapped. And there can only be one top dog.
Armagh had started early. While most of us on the Red Hand side were busy totting up underage All-Irelands under a certain Mickey Harte, Armagh were laying the building blocks of a period of Ulster dominance marked most significantly by their key breakthrough win in 1999, captained by one Jarlath Burns.
They went on to win seven in 10 years, a record not seen since the Down team of the 1960s. But while they knocked off Ulster with a relish even Jim McGuinness would be impressed by, it was the battle for All-Irelands that would define both teams.
I remember watching the 2002 All-Ireland final at home. Our McGinley house tradition was to save one of the big tins of Quality Street or Roses from the previous Christmas and open it on All-Ireland final day as we sat round the living room and took in the match on the box.
In 2002 it was no different. By then I was up with the Tyrone seniors, but that didn’t change my usual viewing spot or my preferred chocolates. By throw-in, having listened to the local build-up, the jealousy had welled up and I was hoping Kerry would do the job.
But as I watched Armagh take on the illustrious boys from the Kingdom I couldn’t help but cheer on the underdog. When Oisín McConville missed the penalty, then later rammed home the goal in the second half into the Hill, I couldn’t but admire the sheer belief and balls on show.
When Kieran McGeeney fell to his knees, ball in hand as the final whistle blew, the sheer delight I felt for them was as genuine as it was momentary!
By the time they were lifting the Sam Maguire Cup I was sick. They were there. They’d done it. It felt unbelievably far away from my sitting room in Ballygawley.
I don’t recall chatting with my Tyrone teammates that day – this was in a world before WhatsApp groups – but I can only imagine that collectively we all saw the same thing as we watched the celebrations in Jones’ Road.
Armagh had reached the summit. Now, the hunt was on to topple them.
We knew we had it all to prove. For all our underage titles and ‘potential’, we were the soft boys. Forever the nearly men who ‘lacked something’ when push really came to shove.
Peter Canavan repeatedly hammered that point into us. League title and Ulster title in hand, the fact Sam still resided in Armagh made his message easy to believe. As fate would have it, it would remain there right up until we took it off them.
One year on, the seat in the living room and the box of chocolates were unused as the All-Ireland final rolled around. There was a celebratory feel to the final in ’03.
Armagh, still riding the crest of the wave from their maiden ’02 victory and Tyrone with the smell of that dream first All-Ireland in our nostrils. One Peter Canavan reversed substitution and Conor Gormley block later, and it was Tyrone boots that would follow Armagh’s up those Hogan Stand steps.
Armagh were magnanimous in defeat. Having experienced their own version of the promised land the previous year it must have seemed churlish to deny or feel bitter at the neighbours getting theirs.
By 2005, whatever good-natured generosity there was had evaporated. The race for a second crown was on and, far from shadow boxing our way around each other, it became a full-on assault.
Then came a trilogy of games akin to the Dublin v Meath epics of 1994. An Ulster final, its replay, and the All-Ireland semi-final. All in Croker.
Peter’s iconic free was the final decisive act. It was a simple kick for a man of his ability, but like a recent Masters putt, it’s all about the context. And that kick had to be the most pressured of his career.
By that stage the games had taken on a life of their own. It was the first and only time in my career where it felt like every single person was in it together. The tension and pressure the players felt on the pitch was matched by everyone in the stands.
Palpable doesn’t come close. You could taste the thing. Every play, tackle, hit, score was as if it actively involved every person in the stadium. By the end, even the grand stadium itself seemed exhausted.
The two teams never met at the same heights again. Maybe that was for the best. All had been left on the pitch. The battles since have conjured up memories but that’s it.
Twenty years on from that 2005 peak, the ingredients for today’s game bear an uncanny resemblance. Armagh back at the top. Tyrone with a young talented team and the clichéd ‘potential’ of a serious side.
The status of various injuries could be decisive but taking things as they are, Armagh are favourites having shown a level of play Tyrone have not, as yet, produced.
The Tyrone psyche often needs a spark to light it. While I expect the game to be a cagey affair there is just the possibility that, as they did a few decades ago, Armagh act as the lighter fluid Tyrone require.
If they do, the game could be a clinker and mark the emergence of Tyrone as genuine challengers. Surely history wouldn’t think of repeating itself, would it?
