Brian Dunne Testimonial - Reporter Brian Dunne (slightly biased)

 

It was the last game of the season yesterday, the game that was a tribute to a living legend. The following is a factual account of what took place. For those lucky enough to have witnessed the event - well you were lucky enough, for those who weren't - bear with me, as we meander through the incredible story of how one man can win a game single-handedly. I'd like to call this tale, "THE POWER OF ONE"   It was April 6th in the year of our Lord 2008. About 1 pm, the crowds (mostly women, for obvious reasons) started to stream through the turnstiles. By 1.30 the gates were locked, with still a huge number, unable to gain access, content to wait outside with the hope of getting a glimpse of "the living legend". Kavanagh had signed up anyone who could kick a ball in Wellington, for his "assault on Everest", leaving Dunner with a shower of eejity players - the likes of O'Connor, Cronin, McGeeny, Gormley, Burn, O'Toole, & last & certainly not least the injured O'Reilly. The Kerryman also brought  2 sets of jerseys - one green set & another green set. They say that there's one gobshite born every minute in the World - & I reckon they're all born in Kerry. Did this bother "the living legend" - not a jot. Each one of his team wore their County colours - apart from the Cork twins, who had the thrill of wearing the Dublin colours - because lets face it that Cork jersey is ridiculous looking. O'Connor & Dunner lined up at mid-field, with the rest of the team told to spread out & try not make fools of themselves for once. Kavo sent 2 Cork boys into the middle, O'Regan & Eoin, in the hope that they could even get 10% possession. Boys on a man's errand, boys sent into a blazing inferno, into the teeth of a gale, into the great abyss. Referee for the day was that proud Wexford man, Mr. Paul Mordaunt. He loves Lacrosse, he even arrrived with his lacrosse stick & plus 4's - it looked as if he was looking to catch a few butterflies. Anyhoo in the ball he through & the "living Dublin legend" started as he went for the rest of the afternoon, reaching up - well above the 3 Cork boys - & pulled the O'Neills leather out of the clouds. Kavanagh was quick to realise that he'd have to send in reinforcements to the middle - introducing himself, Taggart, English, Owens, Mihalovics & Uncle Tom cobbly & all - but to no avail, & one by one they made a hasty retreat. O'Connor was having a 'mare - suffering under the huge pressure of wearing the jersey of a superb Dublin team, Cronin & Burn need serious foot-straightening operations, & Gormley was being severely outshone by his 2 fine sons - Shea & Declan. Half-time was reached with Dunner's team 8 pts. in arrears. Did he panic??? not at all. Cool as a cucumber, he made a couple of subtle changes, looked his team in the eye, rolled up his sleeves & said "Did youz ever tink of playing a differint game altogedder yiz muppets". It was soon obvious that Rynne, in goal for the Dunner team in the 2nd half, had been bought (rumour has it for 4 bits of turf - Clare boys like "da bih a heah"). So there was only one thing for it - deny the Kavo Kappers all possession. Well it worked a treat, as the "living legend" himself, scoring 2 superb goals - brought the Dunner team all square. As the game entered it's last breath, "the legend" pulled another ball out of the skies (narrowly avoiding a plane coming in to land) & went on a weaving run - mercilessly cutting through the opposition, like a knife through butter. There was still some 60metres between himself & the opposition goal, when he pulled the trigger - women screamed & fainted, men gasped & looked in awe, the ball sailed between the sticks, the white flag was raised, Dunner's 100% record of never being beaten on Wellington soil was maintained, & "the Living Legend" got down on one knee & had a quiet word with his equal.

 


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