Dundalk: beaten but not bowing out

Heading to Tallaght Stadium yesterday evening I asked myself the question: when is this all going to end?

As they say, ‘all good things come to an end.’ Was tonight going to be the night? If Zenit run riot will this be the beginning of the end of a run which has sparked a mass support movement for Dundalk FC across the north-east?

For some reason I kept thinking about Tom Watson and his tilt at winning a sixth Claret Jug at the 2009 Open Championships. Coming down the 18^th for the fourth time that week, Watson saw his dream collapse in the most cringeworthy way.

He was ‘exhausted.’ One more par was just a step too far.

He had become a cult figure for the armchair golf fan. He had states and continents behind him. For one day only children wanted to be like Tom Watson, a man with an uncanny likeability and a personality to charm a nation – like this Dundalk team.

Watson came back from nowhere, having enjoyed a huge amount of success in the past. He built round-on-round from Thursday to Saturday like Dundalk have built year-on-year from 2013 to 2016, making his presence felt and disrupting the established favourites, much like Dundalk have.

For him, though, it all came crashing down on the home straight.

Here is Dundalk, on the verge of a third league championship in succession, the double-double and poised to lead their Europa League group. Greatness within touching distance. Dundalk were indeed carrying the hopes of a nation.

Would it all be too much? That was the rhetorical question, the unanswerable sum. Could they maintain their relentlessness?

I was unsure. The vibes from the crowd were mixed, and that didn’t sit well with me. Stephen O’Donnell, the heartbeat, was missing.

Shields, Benson, McEleney, Mountney, McMillan, Gartland, Finn, Gannon – practically the entire starting XI – have been injured since the European crusade began in July.

12 games in five days, or whatever the equivalent was – I had lost count – was surely going to hamper their performance levels.

The agonising opening didn’t reassure either myself or the 5,000 Dundalk followers any further. Benson’s break through the middle, Finn’s incredible turn of pace and almost flawless effort took what seemed like hours to go across the face of goal. It was that agonising it was painful. The wince on Finn’s face matched those in the stands.

A gracious rendition of applause was raised in an attempt to further spur the Lilywhites on but it was tinged with regret, regret that Dundalk weren’t one up. How it didn’t go in one will never know.

During all of this the image of a 59-year-old Tom Watson was etched in my thoughts. He bogeyed two of his opening three holes in his final round, Dundalk had missed two glorious openings in the space of seven early minutes. The similarities were almost implausible.

Over the next eleven holes Watson remained level par, he was still leading the Open Championship despite a number of players charging up the Turnberry leaderboard.

In Tallaght, Dundalk remained toe-to-toe with Zenit – possibly even ahead on points – though it was scoreless. Zenit, with Witsel, Giuliano and Dzyuba, looked menacing, but the Lilywhites held firm with Chris Shields acting as the stringent shepherd orchestrating his flock into position, left-to-right, forward and then backwards.

At half-time, the mood was again conservative. Nobody wanted to tempt fate. The conversations went, ‘well, what do you think,’ with the coy response being, ‘they’re doing alright.' In fact they meant: ‘this team are incredible. They can do it. Why can’t they go and win?’ Or maybe they were just my sentiments!

Meanwhile, back in 2009, Watson was birdying the 17^th. It was actually going to happen – he was going to break yet another record and become the eldest ever winner of a Major Championship. The crowd were chanting his name and Peter Alliss was preparing another lyrical line of poetry in commentary. It was really happening.

52 minutes in at Tallaght Stadium and Dundalk were doing it as well. “Benson left-footed and IT’S GONE IN. BENSON HAS PUT DUNDALK AHEAD.” Although Dave McIntyre’s commentary may not be as iconic as the great Peter Alliss’, it was like a note from Mozart in the eyes of the Dundalk fans: sweet, soothing and sublime. Much like Benson’s left-foot. It was really happening.

Massey then hit the post from a scrumptious free-kick delivery by Horgan. The agony went on.

70 minutes played. The crowd were growing confident. I began putting the standfirst to my report and Zenit were losing their cool. Domenico Criscito was in the process of being handed their fifth caution of the night.

On the golf course, Watson had just split the fairway with his final drive of the week. It was all looking good – history in the making.

Disaster! Man-made disaster!

Gabriel Sava, a compatriot of Zenit manager Mircea Lucescu, ballooned a clearance and within seconds Robert Mak had put the ball in the net. The ‘keeper was unfortunate. It was his only error of the game, but how costly it proved.

The same at Turnberry as Watson over-hit his approach shot. The ball landed in the hay. He chipped back within eight-feet of the hole. His par effort to win the Open rolled agonisingly past the drop. A play-off. His body couldn’t take another four brutal play-off holes.

Stewart Cink won the Claret Jug as Watson held back the tears with his customary smile and the words, 'I’m proud.' It was a hollow pride though; he had missed an opportunity that he would never get again.

After 93 minutes, the game was up in Tallaght. 2-1 Zenit, a sublime second from Giuliano. Heart-breaking, unforgiving and cruel! For Watson? For Dundalk? No, for both.

Tallaght Stadium emptied with a murmur, just like Turnberry had emptied seven years previous. An air of deflation and devastation pervaded Tallaght Stadium. There were no words to sum it up.

Watson never came back, hasn't won a Major since and has now stopped trying.

That is where the comparisons between the eight-time major-winning American and Dundalk FC stop. Dundalk will be back. This will not be the end and they will continue to fight. For this isn’t any ordinary team, this is a Stephen Kenny team.