The current state of affairs wasn’t always the norm. Cast your mind back, tread carefully through the years. Perhaps 1992 rings a bell?
“Limerick’s presence in the Munster final is rare,” announced Michael Lyster on The Sunday Game. For most of the Limerick team, this was a new experience, with only one player, Tommy Quaid, having tasted it before. Behind him were 11 years of hope, fuelled by a distant, elusive dream.
Yet in the annals of Limerick’s hurling past, an 11-year wait was far from the record. Limerick was frequently absent, conspicuously missing. However, whenever a Munster final did eventually appear in the realm of their wildest aspirations, it came bearing its own brand of anguish. Nonetheless, they were at least familiar with this craving; they knew how to cope with such discomfort through repetition.
The 1992 Munster final was a textbook nightmare in its category. Armed with a newfound optimism from winning the league final, they marched into Páirc Uí Chaoimh only to find themselves trailing by 10 points at half-time.
Tomás Mulcahy was responsible for Cork’s first goal, managing to juggle the ball between his hands and boot it into the net on the tenth stride. His unconventional celebration came after a slight pause, negligible enough to maintain the illusion. The goal was honoured.
Young Mark Foley, son of one of the Limerick selectors, Vincent Foley, and a carrier of hurley himself, was just 17 at the time. Youngster Niall Moran was but nine years old. This was his first viewing of a Munster final in his lifetime.
“Downing a two-litre bottle of cola on the car ride is something I vividly remember,” he shares. The heat that day was quite memorable, along with Mulcahy’s memorable kick.
In the 2007 Munster final, Limerick was represented by Foley as the experienced left half back, and Moran as the wing forward. This was the sole Munster final reached by Moran during his first decade with Limerick, with Waterford emerging victorious by a margin of nine points. At that time, the notion of making to the finals was treasured, even if occasionally unrealistic.
“The sense of achievement was overwhelming considering the team we had,” Moran reflects. “For many Limerick fans, it was almost as if they had set their sights on nothing higher. That was the prevailing mindset in our county.”
“Participating in the tournament was an exhilarating experience. When you’ve grown up in the culture of the game and its legends, being an active part of it feels incredible. However, it felt more like being part of the experience rather than the game. That’s the enduring impression I have,” he adds.
After their 1994 Munster final victory, Foley, then a teenager, was invited to join the training squad. The next year, however, he found himself unplayed when Limerick, the hot favourites, suffered a nine-point loss to Clare while defending their title. The defeat to Clare complicated Limerick’s standing in Munster hurling’s established class hierarchy.
“For me, it was a hard pill to digest,” remarks Foley. “A Munster final loss to Cork or Tipp would be seen as a disappointing day out by the people of Limerick, but losing to Clare was considered utterly intolerable.”
“On that night, I was in Limerick [city], and many of the Clare supporters would have been travelling home via Limerick. I was with some of our players when Clare’s fans paraded through the city, walking up and down O’Connell Street and Henry Street. It resembled an impromptu celebration rally through the city of Limerick. All we could do was grit our teeth.”
Over many years, numerous generations endured hardship. The Limerick team from the 1940s experienced defeat in five Munster finals over a span of six years. From 1956 to 1970, the only representation from Limerick in a senior provincial final was in football, with Kerry claiming victory from them in 1965. Equal scores were attained that day by Eamon Cregan and Mick O’Connell, each achieving five points. Regardless, football was not really a favourite sport in Limerick.
The resonant Limerick team of the 1970s made several appearances in the Munster finals, yet it failed to impede Limerick’s tendency for self-destructive behaviour, and Cregan shares some intriguing anecdotes. In 1975, Cregan was dealing with a ripped hamstring, an affliction which modern medicine at the time found baffling.
“Cregan recalls, “Various remedies including poteen and vinegar were used in attempts to repair it. Upon visiting a doctor, he injected something into my leg with assurance that everything’s alright. However, around 10 minutes later, I made a sudden turn and my hamstring was strained again. The selectors were contacted who advised me to keep playing till half-time. So there I was, stuck in the centre back position with an injured hamstring, immobilised, in pain and trying to tag Willie Walsh.
“After half-time I confessed, ‘I am unable to move my leg,’ hence I was assigned the position of the full-forward. I spent the whole 70 minutes of the Munster 1975 final playing with a ripped hamstring.”
During that year, Cork began a consecutive spree of five Munster championships. Limerick faced defeat again in 1976 and yet again in 1979 at their hands. However, this is a tale for another time. In those days, the Limerick team journeyed in personal vehicles. Cregan’s car was driven by one of his friends, a missionary priest, with a few other team members accompanying them. The team had planned to assemble at Hayes’ Hotel in Thurles at 1 p.m., but they found themselves caught in traffic at Holycross by 12:30, stranded in the middle of a rural road.
Cregan recalls the intense frustration of being stuck in a traffic jam miles away from the match site at 2 PM. He describes the desperation of his priest friend who, in anger, sought the help of a motorcycle-riding officer of the Garda before resorting to offensive language. They had players trapped in the traffic and had no way of reaching the pitch to participate in the Munster final.
Exasperation rose to unprecedented levels, underscored by the sight of three cars full of players behind them, equally helpless. Finally, they took matters into their own hands, grabbed their hurleys and equipment from the car boot, and dashed across two and a half miles. They reached the dressing room by half past two, their match scheduled just 45 minutes later. With no food intake since 9 AM, their preparation was far from ideal. The match ended predictably with a defeat from Cork. Cregan names it as a sheer case of poor planning.
Fast forward to a year later, Limerick impeded Cork’s attempt to attain the much-desired six in a row, the same target Limerick had their eyes on the following weekend. It was the first time in four decades that Limerick had outplayed Cork in a Munster final. Post-match celebrations took place at Hayes’ Hotel; a mere curtain provided a semblance of privacy as they relished their victory over dinner.
Dave Punch recollects an emotional incident when an aged man approached them to offer congratulations. He burst into tears, expressing his joy at witnessing Limerick’s victory over Cork in a Munster final for the first time. This encounter left a lasting impression on Punch.
The following time Limerick triumphed over Cork in a Munster final took another 33 years. The Gaelic Grounds was alive with euphoria under the scorching sun, as legions of Limerick supporters swarmed onto the pitch. The exhilaration of this win ran deep, counterbalancing countless past defeats.
“In a chat with Moran, it was clear he hadn’t expected to witness it. He expressed his belief that the current generation might not fully grasp the enormity of it all, suggesting it may never quite sink in for them. Moran recalled that unforgettable day, marked by an intense rush of emotions that encapsulated all the hardships of the preceding decade. If your life has been marred by disappointment and heartbreak, when triumph finally arrives, those repressed feelings inevitably surge forth.
There were times when it seemed futile to continue hoping for such a result. It was a mix of suppressed emotions and dreams so audacious they were unsettling. This starkly contrasts with the feelings leading up to this Sunday.
YouTube may not have been as prominent in 2013, but Moran recalls revisiting the 1996 Munster final held in Cork and drawing inspiration from the sight of Ciaran Carey hoisted on the pitch after securing Limerick’s earlier Munster title. It was an event which took place in ’96.
Conversations with folks in Limerick will reveal their casual optimism – ‘Sure, let’s not worry about the consecutive Munster scores, we’re aiming for five-in-a-row All-Irelands.’ Yet, we poured all our resources into securing a single victory in Munster. Engaging young lads on the subject sometimes felt awkward, given how we gloated about a single Munster medal when they can name multiple players with five medals each.
Of all the players in this weekend’s Limerick squad, merely Nickie Quaid, Declan Hannon, and Graeme Mulcahy have experienced the bitter sting of a Munster final loss. Today, each of them boasts one more medal than Mick Mackey, and two more than Cregan, outdoing even Christy Ring’s nine medals. Is this feat beyond their grasp now? Are you certain?
The agony lessened with time. No sensation is permanent.”