Cork hurling fans left with huge questions about Rebels' approach and fragility in devastating loss to Galway

But. But. But… It was the most common word I heard on Saturday afternoon.

Standing outside the Croke Park Hotel, leaning against a wall and chatting with Cork supporters as they waited for friends and family before heading into the All-Ireland semi-final against Galway, every conversation seemed to follow the same script.

Cork would win. Cork were the better team. Cork were on a mission to reach a third consecutive All-Ireland final.

They would be back in Croke Park in two weeks to face Limerick or maybe even Clare. Either way, we would be there.

The arguments were convincing enough. Cork had beaten Galway in the league. 

Munster hurling was stronger than Leinster hurling. Cork had more firepower and more momentum.

But. There was always a but. And it wasn't a small one.

"It's Galway."

Those two words hovered over every conversation like a dark cloud.

"They're our bogey team."

"They always beat us in semi-finals."

"We haven't beaten them in years."

"They beat us the last time too."

The evidence was impossible to ignore. Cork haven't beaten Galway in a major championship clash since 2008.  Since then have come championship defeats in 2009, 2011, 2012, 2015 and again in 2022.

This wasn't paranoia. It was memory.

Real, lived experience.

It reminded me of something Joe Canning wrote.

"Throughout my Galway career we always regarded Cork as fragile. Nice hurlers and all that, but not a team to be afraid of in a close game. I think I lost one championship game to Cork – and I'm talking about U16, minor, U21 and senior."

That word lingered. Fragile.

Because the record backed it up. Cork had lost their previous five championship meetings with Galway coming into Saturday's game.

Suddenly all those 'buts' didn't sound like nerves. They sounded like truth.

The supporters tried to hide it behind smiles, confidence and bravado, but it was there all the same. 

Quiet and persistent, sitting just beneath the surface.

Poor Record

Semi-finals haven't exactly been kind to Cork either. Despite winning their previous three, they had lost six of their last 10 All-Ireland semi-finals since 2006.

Then there was last year's All-Ireland final collapse. Strip away the recent run and the pattern is impossible to ignore.

That was the real mood outside Croke Park. There was hope. There was expectation and a belief that Cork would win.

But.

Underneath it all there was doubt. And worry.

To be clear, that doubt belonged to the supporters. Or so I thought.

We were nervous. There was genuine concern among the 50,000 Cork fans inside the stadium.

I certainly didn't believe those doubts would seep into the dressing room.  Ben O'Connor and his management team have forgotten more about hurling than most of us will ever know.

But after what unfolded on the pitch, you have to wonder.

How else do you explain Cork abandoning the style of hurling that brought them this far and instead embracing tactics that were baffling to watch?

This was the strangest, most bizarre Cork performance I ever witnessed.

Why was everything so rehearsed? Why were Cork players told what to do every time they got the ball?

Where was the trust in the players? Why so much lateral passing?

Why were Cork constantly going across the field and back again?

Why were players being put under pressure with short passes when simpler, longer options were available? And why wasn't more direct ball being played into Brian Hayes, who was on fire in the opening half?

Why couldn't the Cork players make their own decisions when on the ball?  

They kept raising their hands over their head and making an X movement to tell us where the ball, via a pre-determined move, was going to go. They never tried another way.

They did it even when it was wrong to do so. That comes down to coaching and poor player intelligence on the pitch.

Hurling Made Simple

Cork seemed determined to outsmart Galway's sweeper. While they were busy playing tiki-taka hurling, going nowhere, Galway were doing the simple things brilliantly, firing over points from every angle and racing into a 1-4 to 0-2 lead.

There are ways to beat a sweeper system. Move the ball quickly. Hit the opposite side of the field. Deliver it long before the defence can get set.

Instead, Cork repeatedly took five or six passes when one might have achieved the same result.

That opening spell handed Galway confidence and belief.

From that point on, they looked the better team.  They were the better team.

Tactics are one thing. But players also have to react to what's unfolding in front of them.

When something isn't working, responsibility has to be taken on the field.

Cork never seemed to do that. Where were the leaders?

They needed a reset. It never came.

The management didn't alter course and the players persisted with the same approach. 

At times, they looked unsure of what they were trying to achieve. It was painful to watch.

Mike Tyson famously said everybody has a plan until they get punched in the face. Galway landed the first punch. Cork never truly responded.

To be fair, there was a spell midway through the first half when everything clicked. Cork opened up a four-point lead at 1-12 to 1-7 and looked ready to take control.

Then Galway finished the half strongly, scoring five of the last six points to reduce the gap to a single point, 1-13 to 1-12 at the break.

Around me, most Cork supporters felt half-time would sort things out. Surely the tactics would be adjusted.

Surely Cork would drive on. Leaders would stand up and be counted.  Mistakes would be rectified.

Instead, the opposite happened. The second half was another nightmare.

Galway outscored Cork by 10 points to one in the opening 12 minutes after the restart. Cork were in all sorts of trouble, both on the field and on the sideline.

Galway's forwards found themselves in acres of space with all the time in the world to pick off scores.

Where were the Cork defenders? Where was the response? Where were the subs when the game was going away from us?

When Darragh Fitzgibbon was sent off, it felt like the final nail in the coffin.  It was.

Cork had blown it again. The memories of last year's collapse against Tipperary came flooding back.

What makes it even harder to understand is that it has happened two years in a row.

Fragile

Maybe Joe Canning was right. Maybe Cork are fragile. Maybe they are not as good as we thought.

Maybe they are not mentally strong enough when the pressure reaches its highest point.

Whatever the answer, Galway's hold over Cork continues.

Next year it will be 22 years since Cork last won the All-Ireland, 19 years since we beat Galway when it mattered most.

Unless this team finds a way to deliver in the crucial moments — particularly in second halves at Croke Park — that wait could continue for a lot longer.

Finally, my mother always used to say there's something good to be found even in the worst days. As usual, she was right.

At least Ringmahon Rangers can now ask again to have their FAI Cup tie against Bohemians played on Sunday, July 19.

And perhaps best of all, I won't have to spend the next two weeks turning off my phone to avoid the endless requests for All-Ireland final tickets.