GPS devices don’t measure cut and fire

In June 2015, we travelled to Markievicz Park for a Connacht championship semi-final. Under John Evans, we had just sealed back-to-back promotions and won the Division Two final in Croke Park. We beat London with ease in the first round and were the warmest of favourites against a Sligo team that had finished mid-table in Division Three.

I still remember the team meeting beforehand in Boyle. The message was clear: “Don’t be complacent”. It wasn’t a hard argument to make. That Sligo team had a knack for producing big championship performances when least expected.

“Don’t be complacent. Expect a serious battle”. The messaging was bang on. It was too late though. The mindset had already set in. We were lethargic. They were buzzing. They beat us by four, comfortably.

There was a lesson from that day that has stuck with me. I’ve always had it in mind when involved in coaching teams since. Once you’re talking about complacency, it’s already too late. The mere mention of the word hints at an inherent belief that you’re better than the opposition. That’s a position we never seem comfortable in. Just look at Clones at the weekend.

It’s an affliction that has beset many Roscommon teams, not just this current crew, and it’s worth facing up to. I’ve had it said to me many times over the years that we struggle with the favourites’ tag, and I previously wouldn’t have bought into it too much. There comes a time though when the evidence is too compelling to ignore.

Saturday was a very bad day at the office. When you sit down and watch any of the televised games from the weekend, the Monaghan/Roscommon match seems bizarre in comparison.

The other games were fantastic and made for great viewing. There was ferocious bite and fight to all of them, not just the knockout games. They were filled with savage battles for possession, both on kickouts and in open play.

In Clones, though, it felt more like a league game. I imagine Monaghan could scarcely believe their luck. We never really laid a glove on them, nor did we look like doing so.

Two midfielders being taken off in the second half points to an issue in terms of winning primary ball, but it would be all too easy and not at all accurate to lay the blame on those lads. Across the whole middle-third, we were out-fought and out-worked.

That’s not an easy thing to write, and I know, from experience, that it won’t be an easy thing for lads to hear. I feel like this team, who gave us such great memories in May, fell into the same trap as many before them. It’s not so much that we underestimated Monaghan. It’s more that we overestimated ourselves.

When you’re competing in Connacht, against two traditional powerhouses like Mayo and Galway, there’s never the fear of us getting ahead of ourselves. We always know that we’ll have to scrap for everything if we’re to get anything out of a championship battle with those teams.

After the elation of winning Connacht this year, the Tyrone game was a good one to get next. It kept us grounded and focussed. They’re a serious outfit and gave us a great test — one which we came very close to passing. All was not lost in defeat and the fixture against Monaghan looked like the perfect opportunity to kickstart our All-Ireland Championship campaign.

In the week leading up to the game, I felt very confident that we’d win. That was tempered then by the news Enda Smith was out. Yet I still thought we would be good enough to get the job done.

WE DIDN’T WIN THE FIGHT

We never showed up. Now I’m sure there’ll be no shortage of GPS evidence available to management, and I’d even guess that our lads covered plenty of ground, and made the amounts of high-speed runs that would have been expected. But GPS devices don’t measure cut and fire.

Gaelic football is an emotional game, particularly in championship. You’ve got to bring fire to your performance or you’ve no chance. The best teams — the serial winners — can do that on auto-pilot. They will always bring a savage workrate and grit to their performances, regardless of the opposition.

That’s why the Dublins and Kerrys of this world will keep coming back to the top table. If you want to join them at that table, you better not forget that grit that got you there.

That’s where Roscommon have fallen off, time and again. Everything was set up perfectly for us coming into this Monaghan game. We’d had plenty of time to get over the emotional high of the Connacht championship. The Tyrone game had sharpened us for All-Ireland action. The three-week lead-in was ideal and so there can be no qualms about fatigue.

When I say we overestimate ourselves, I should explain more. We get to a high level of performance, as seen in Connacht this year, and the Tyrone game was decent too. We then, naturally, start focussing on smaller gains.

For example, we may have put extra emphasis in the last few weeks on a new attacking shape, some set plays on the slower attacks. Maybe we did some deep analysis on Rory Beggan’s kickout and concocted ways we could set traps for them to get turned over high up the field.

At some point along the way, it almost becomes like overthinking and we forget that single most important aspect to our gameplan — that fire and desire that were so evident in Connacht. It’s like we get ahead of ourselves and take that aspect of the game for granted.

Here’s the biggest problem. Once you’re off the pace of it, even by a bit, it’s very hard, nearly impossible to switch on. It’s too late.

These players have been outstanding all season and brought us to heights we never dreamed of at the beginning of the year. They played with passion and thoughtfulness and skill.

The performance on Saturday didn’t resemble anything that went before it. Monaghan have received plenty of praise for their dominance on kickouts and the scores that they kicked, especially against the wind in the second half. But it was all too easy. It felt more like a league game than the first knockout game of the All-Ireland championship. I expect Monaghan’s summer will end next weekend.

This will be a hard defeat to take, simply because we were more than good enough to win. I heard from a number of supporters last week who said it would be a shame if we were to lose to Monaghan because it would take the gloss off our magnificent May. I nodded along.

In hindsight, it wasn’t the defeat itself that may take the gloss off May, but rather the manner of it. We fell into the overthinking trap again and forgot the most important, fundamental aspect of championship football.

You’ve got to win the fight first before your football can do the talking.