I have it from a solid source that Johnny Murphy has entered the witness protection program
And there is a trophy for that.
They do not have a Canning and that is key in my view.
Wont take much from a decent Galway man to lift em 20% but the last few years has done damage.
I think they have huge holes to fill at that.
It isnt that they dont have hurlers, Galway have that in abundance, but they have a lot of work to replace leaders and experience.
Might still see em plugging away in semis but the longer the road travelled I think its very apparent how reliant Galway were on Joe and one or two more to get them that AI.
Nothing against them either, my grandfather was a Galway man and Id shout for em if we were out lest someone thinks Iâm digging the boot in.
Can someone with a sub do the honours
Strength in science: how Lukasz Kirszenstein helped Clare reach the promised land
The Pole headed the Bannerâs strength and conditioning this season, following past All-Ireland successes with Tipperary and Galway
Clareâs S&C coach Lukasz Kirszenstein alongside captain Tony Kelly (bottom left) after the countyâs victory over Cork in the All-Ireland Senior Hurling Final. Photograph: James Crombie/Inpho
Sat Aug 24 2024 - 06:00
Lukasz Kirszenstein has a hurley that Joe Canning gave him years ago â not as a token or an ornament, but as an instrument to be learned. In the intercounty dressing rooms that had become his workplace and his playground, Kirszenstein noticed players picking up other playersâ hurleys and judging them, like they were swishing a mouthful of wine.
He wondered for a long time what they were doing until one day he found himself doing it too. He had joined the band.
In conversation he will say things like âthe way hurling used to beâ, unconsciously but in context. Beyond his short experience, how many reference points did he have? He understands, though, that he has been part of the most convulsive decade the game has known. In hurlingâs age of Citius, Altius, Fortius*,* hurlers needed someone like him.
Last month, Kirszenstein was the strength and conditioning (S&C) coach for the All-Ireland hurling champions for the third time in eight years: Tipperary in 2016, Galway a year later and now Clare. Intercounty teams have had various species of physical trainers for decades, but nobody had ever achieved such a feat with three different counties.
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This year Clare were stretched, sometimes on a rack. No other team played more competitive minutes. Between league and championship, Clare had 15 matches, one more than Kilkenny, two more than Cork, three more than Limerick. After more than 100 minutes in the All-Ireland final they were the last team wobbling.
The hurling championship used to have long stretches of flat calm, where tapering and peaking was a different kind of challenge; now it is a series of white-water rapids.
âWe got to the league final and I was like, âOh no, in two weeksâ time weâre playing Limerick. Whatâs the best way we can do this?â So we planned for that. And then the next game, and the next game. It doesnât leave you too much space to do anything crazy â which is good sometimes.â
The two teams who would reach the All-Ireland final met at a cliffâs edge before the end of April. Clare had cocked up against Limerick and had seven days to restore their bodies and minds. Shortly after half-time Cork led by seven points. The Munster championship is full of pop-up crises.
Lukasz Kirszenstein with Henry Shefflin during their time with the Galway senior hurling panel. Photograph: James Crombie/Inpho
âThe catalyst was the midweek session we did after the loss [to Limerick]. It was really good and it instilled the confidence back in. Players at that level are very resilient. That group never panics. The session was short, but it was hard. Weâre talking intensity, not volume. The old thing in the GAA would have been, in the match week, wrap yourself in bubble wrap and wait for the game. At that level it doesnât work like that.â
Itâs nearly 20 years since Kirszenstein arrived in Ireland. He had quickly grown tired of London, but he was just 24 and had no desire to return home to Poland. His brother was working in a hotel in Adare and there was work there also for Kirszenstein.
His qualifications, though, were in sport. He had a degree in physical education and a masters in anthropometry â the science of human measurement. In the hotel, he served his time in the restaurant while his eyes were on the gym.
[ Clareâs residual experience of All-Ireland success carries the dayOpens in new window ]
âBelieve it or not it was hard for me to break into strength and conditioning. Someone told me once, pretty abruptly, âYouâre never going to get into strength and conditioning because your qualification is not recognised here.â It was from a top university in Poland. I said, like, âWe will see.ââ
Rugby was his point of entry. Garryowen gave him a chance and from there some work materialised in the Munster Academy. The next turn had no signpost. One of the coaches in the academy was asked to train the Tipperary hurlers and he brought Kirszenstein as his assistant. But just a couple of months later, the IRFU cracked down on its full-time academy coaches moonlighting with other teams. Before the start of the 2013 National League, the Tipperary job fell into his lap.
âIt didnât go really well. A steep learning curve. It was a funny year as well. There were a few other things wrong but, yeah, that was a big lesson for me.
Clare manager Brian Lohan dejected after a Munster Championship Round 1 loss to Limerick in Ennis. A week later, the Banner bounced back to beat Cork at PĂĄirc UĂ Chaoimh. Photograph: James Crombie/Inpho
From one team sport to another, he reckons about 75 per cent of strength and conditioning occupies common ground. The last quarter is full of variables. So he needed to learn about hurlers.
âHurling is one sport that exposes a bit of fatigue because itâs such a fine skill. If youâre that small bit off, straight away youâre dropping balls, the basics let you down, youâre shooting wides. Itâs very visible if you get it wrong. And it happens.
âItâs very easy to mess it up. I believe Iâve mastered things to get it right, but still â probably eight times out of 10 you get it right but 15 to 20 per cent of the time you get it wrong.â
He recalls that in 2015, Tipperary had a five-week gap between the Munster final and the All-Ireland semi-final. âWe didnât manage that right. I was probably too inexperienced to call it. Now, Iâd do it completely different.â
At the end of 2013, Kirszenstein took a chance. He quit his job in the hotel and trusted in his ability to attract clients. At the beginning of 2014, Tipp were the only team on his books; by the end of the year, he had added the Ireland womenâs rugby team. They were amateurs too, doing blocks of training in regional pods.
âThe Dublin-based girls used to train at 6am in UCD. I had to be up at 3.30 in the morning and drive from Limerick. It wasnât pretty. There was a Galway group, Cork, London, Belfast and some other exiles. I was managing that â the whole lot, and a couple of coaches.â In that season Ireland won the Six Nations.
Lukasz Kirszenstein celebrates with the Ireland squad after winning the 2015 RBS Womenâs Six Nations. Photograph: Dan Sheridan/Inpho
His reputation grew quickly, and after Tipperary won the All-Ireland in 2016, Galway approached him. They had been coming up short and were searching for meaningful inches. âIt was a big decision [to leave Tipperary] after winning and people say, âWhy would you not stay?â But at the same time I was four years there.
âWe have a shelf life in S&C. In professional sport itâs a little bit different. In amateur sport, I think there is a best-before date.â
Galway were already the most physical team in the championship and Kirszenstein had no desire to make them bigger. With the Tribesmen, the emphasis in his training was speed. Less than 12 months after he started, they won the All-Ireland. What difference had he made? In the absence of declared data, acclaim was the best testimony available.
In 2023, at the end of Henry Shefflinâs second year, he stepped away. By then he had worked under three different Galway managers. âIt was the seventh year. I was like, âHold on a second, Iâm not sticking to my principles here.â Maybe I just stayed a bit long. When Shane OâNeill was gone [at the end of 2021], I had a think about it and thatâs when I should have called it, really â but I didnât.â
But regardless of where he has ventured, the key to the success of Kirszensteinâs method has been a focus on the science, not the fad.
âIn conditioning work, one of the rules is to progressively overload, but not all the time. If youâre doing it all the time, itâs probably overkill.
âThe biggest problem in amateur sport is the recovery part. Being able to switch off and have outside stresses really dimmed. The body doesnât distinguish between physical stress or mental stress or environmental stress. So, you have a certain capacity in your body to tolerate that. When you come to the pitch, and youâre running on empty, youâre digging a hole for yourself.â
Clare celebrate victory over Cork after extra-time to win the 2024 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Final. Photograph: James Crombie/Inpho
With a business partner, Kirszenstein devised a wellness app called Actimet. The Clare players used it this year, as did the Galway players before them. Every morning, players are asked to rate their wellbeing on a scale of 1 to 10 under various categories in a process that takes less than 20 seconds.
âI wouldnât be jumping the gun if I saw something out of sorts, but itâs a conversation starter. Itâs not a real science because itâs a subjective marker â you donât have data for it, you just have a number that the player came up with. But it does help. Thatâs one of those layers that gives you that extra bit of, âRight, where are we at?ââ
Under Brian Lohan, Clare had used four different S&C coaches in four years; Kirszenstein was number five. What it also meant was that he wasnât starting from scratch.
âWith S&C you need time, especially if you want to build something. In Clare, it was easier. You have to give credit to the previous S&Cs. These players have been on the road a few years, so they were obviously in good shape already. I changed a few things all right â without going into specifics. I think the feedback was good.
âBut we will be sitting down and reviewing it because obviously there are certain things that you do well and certain things that need improvement. And we will find improvement.â
If nobody retires, Clare and Limerick will have the greatest number of thirtysomethings in next yearâs championship. Everyone believes thereâs another kick in Limerick. And Clare? They will have the legs
Johnny Murphy on refereeing the All-Ireland final: âHand on heart, I was happy with the way it wentâ
The Limerick referee hasnât agonised over the outcome of the 2024 hurling final and, despite criticism from some quarters, believes âthe goodwill outweighs the badâ towards match officials
Corkâs Brian Hayes speaks to referee Johnny Murphy at the final whistle of normal time in the 2024 All-Ireland hurling final at Croke Park. Photograph: James Crombie/Inpho
Sat Nov 23 2024 - 06:00
A couple of weeks ago the All-Ireland final referees from the last two years received their medals at a dinner in Croke Park. Damian Lawlor from RTĂ grabbed them for a quick chat on stage, and as he waited his turn, Johnny Murphy was struck by something David Gough said. For big football games, Gough has been a trusted go-to-guy for over a decade, a puff of cold breath on games that could be as hot as soup. All-Ireland finals, though, were different.
ââYou know,â he said, âwhen youâre reffing these games, itâs a blurâ. I never felt that because I had never done an All-Ireland [before this year] but I know now what heâs talking about,â says Murphy. âIf you said to me inside in the dressingroom at half-time in the All-Ireland final, âWho scored the two goals?â I couldnât tell you. I just couldnât tell you because I was just [focusing on] the minute, the [next] minute, the [next] minute.
âI wasnât looking around. I heard no crowd â I heard no crowd. But I was calm. I wasnât one bit nervous. Not one bit. Itâs very hard to explain. It was just calmness. Relaxed. It comes back to being comfortable in what youâre doing, and comfortable in the way youâre able to referee.â
The old truism is that referees are only happy when nobody is talking about them. That if the referee is part of the story, it cannot be good news. That is not the whole truth. If a match turns into a 24-carat spectacular, some thoughtful commentator will say that the referee played his part. Referees crave the dopamine hit of a kind word too, the same as the rest of us.
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As Patrick Collins lined up a free in the last minute of stoppage-time, at the end of extra-time, Michael Duignan said in the RTĂ commentary that the All-Ireland final âhad been one of the greatest games of all timeâ. And even when the volcano had settled and the lava had cooled, first impressions were not heckled by second thoughts.
In the middle, Murphy had kept control without getting in the way. His authority was not intrusive. In the normal course of events, somebody was bound to say that.
Referee Johnny Murphy, Corkâs Sean OâDonoghue, and Tony Kelly of Clare during the coin toss at this yearâs All-Ireland hurling final. Photograph: James Crombie/Inpho
âPeople talk about letting a game flow,â he says. âIâll leave a game flow if two teams want to play hurling. If they act the fool, this is not going to flow. You look at the All-Ireland final, it was fantastic. It flowed. The reason it flowed, it was not because of Johnny Murphy â okay, I contributed to it â but because both teams played the game. There was no messing. There was no fool-acting. It just makes it easier.â
But even before the last play, and the tug of the jersey that he didnât see, Murphy had been pulled into the story. With six minutes to go in normal time he collided with Ethan Twomey in the middle of the field and was cut on the forehead. Afterwards people wondered if Murphy had been concussed. If the fourth official should have taken over. If the knock had impaired his judgment in the closing moments. He heard all that too.
âI got to my feet straight away. I gave an advantage to Clare and he put the ball over the bar. Then I put my hand to my forehead and I saw blood. Now, Iâm not great with blood. Did it knock me? It did. We stopped the game, kept it calm, cleaned it up. If you look back, I went into my umpire, to check the score. The only reason I went to my umpire was to give myself 30 seconds. Just to reassess. A lot of people said, âHe should have been taken off.â No, I was fine â I was fine. I got plenty of belts when I was playing.â
He hasnât agonised over what happened at the end. When he interrogated his movements, he was satisfied that he was in the optimum position. For 65s or frees from the other half of the field, referees are instructed to stand at the top of the D. When the ball dropped, thatâs where he was. He had given himself the best chance. Seeing everything is the supernatural power that people think referees should possess.
Johnny Murphy, who had received a cut to the forehead, consults officials during the 2024 hurling final. âThe only reason I went to my umpire was to give myself 30 seconds. Just to reassess.â Photograph: Morgan Treacy/Inpho
When Adam Hogan pulled Robbie OâFlynnâs jersey the defender was goalside. From where Murphy was standing, he says, his view of the foul was obscured by OâFlynnâs body.
âI stood exactly where I should have been. Ball came in. What happened, happened. That was it. I was in position. I can only give it if I see it. And when it happened, not too many people saw it [in real time]. Not too many people saw it. I couldnât see it [from where I was standing].â
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When the action replay was dissected in TV studios and on a million hand-held devices, that critical detail was overlooked: the angle of Murphyâs sight. The furious narrative was dominated by a foul that was clear in a wide-angle picture from level seven of the Hogan Stand.
People say to me, âJesus, Johnny, why do you referee? Why would you go through it?â But when youâre below in Cusack Park in Ennis for Cork and Clare and the place is rocking, itâs where you want to be. Youâre over in Thurles, and the place is rocking, it makes it all worthwhile
â Johnny Murphy
But in every tight match, the story is told back to front: what happened last? OâFlynnâs miss and what the referee missed were screaming headlines for an unfathomable game of 67 scores and 111 shots. Dwelling on the ending was the analysis of least resistance. Murphy refused to be dragged down that path.
âI was happy. I was happy with my performance. My bosses in Croke Park were happy with the way it went and thatâs all that matters. Iâm not on social media. I donât react to things. I donât reply to anything. You know, that comes with experience. Three or four years ago [an incident] like that would have affected me. Of course it would. But no, not now. And thatâs hand on heart. I was happy with the way it went.
All-Ireland hurling final 2024: Corkâs Robbie Oâ Flynn is tackled by Conor Leen of Clare as he tries for a late point to level the game in extra time. Photograph: James Crombie/Inpho
âOne thing about the All-Ireland final, the amount of people that got in contact with me, messaging me, e-mailing me, writing letters, cards, it was fantastic â before and after [the match]. Yes, we have apes on the internet and a few letters to me at work and stuff [over the years] but the amount of goodwill way outweighs the bad.â
People forget that referees are competitive too, just like players. Ambitious. They want to reach the highest level and perform when they get there. Eleven years ago, when Murphy was being interviewed for a place on the Munster refereesâ panel, they asked him why he wanted to be a referee? âBecause I want to referee an All-Ireland final,â he said.
Three years later he was appointed to his first National Hurling League match: Mayo versus Donegal in McHale Park. âPeople say to me, âJesus, Johnny, why do you referee? Why would you go through it?â Like, we make massive sacrifices â massive sacrifices. My wife makes those sacrifices too and my umpires. But when youâre below in Cusack Park in Ennis for Cork and Clare and the place is rocking, itâs where you want to be. Youâre over in Thurles, and the place is rocking, it makes it all worthwhile.â
For referees the scrutiny is never ending. Every intercounty team analyses the ref, searching for weaknesses and patterns. After the ball is thrown in, the feedback is hot and without value; from the assessors in the stand, it is expert and emotionless. Commentators will have their say, not always expert, not always emotionless. They must absorb all of it, one way or another. Different bins: waste, recycling.
At elite level now they are mentored by a retired referee and in that relationship, there is an element of guidance and succour. To survive at the top, though, every referee must fall down and get up again. The experiences that shape them cannot be outsourced or mediated. Just like players, they must be resilient. Battle-hardened. Tough.
Johnny Murphy shows Dublinâs Eoghan OâDonnell a red card â one of three he issued on the night, along with 13 yellows â in a Dublin vs Wexford hurling league clash at Croke Park in 2020. Photograph: Bryan Keane/Inpho
Murphy remembers a league game between Dublin and Wexford in Croke Park, four years ago. On the night he issued three red cards and 13 yellows and blew for 55 frees. There was uproar. âI had two intercounty teams that went absolutely balubas. They acted the eejit all night. The media went crazy. No one came back to me [from Croke Park] and said, âNone of them deserved to be sent off.â They all deserved it. Chaos.
âI was applying the rules, but everything stuck with me. Crazy stuff. You have good days and bad days. Thankfully weâve had a lot more better ones than the other ones. But weâre human. We are human.â
Hurling keeps changing, and once it turned into a possession game handpassing became its wheels. On average, there are more than 90 handpasses in an intercounty game now. Every so often, the issue simmers to a boil. How many of them are executed properly? Not nearly enough. But policing it is like handing out speeding tickets: every penalised player feels like a victim.
âDid he throw it? Did he not throw it? There must be clear and decisive separation [between the hand and the ball]. Clear and decisive is not a millimetre, itâs three inches.â
Wexford manager Keith Rossiter confronts referee Johnny Murphy at half-time in the Clare vs Wexford championship quarter-final in Semple Stadium in June. Photograph: Ryan Byrne/Inpho
That conflict has many miles to travel. Do players and managers know the rules? All of them? Not even on a need-to-know basis. Since the black card was introduced, for example, ignorance of its applications is widespread. Murphy was the fourth official at one intercounty match, not long ago, when a manager got himself into a lather pleading for a black card. Murphy asked him to name the three black card offences, and the manager was dumbstruck; he didnât know.
In the 24 years since Murphy refereed his first hurling match the only constant has been the pursuit of speed: fast, faster, lightning. For referees, it meant that the boundaries of their fitness were forever being challenged. The elite Munster panel train together in Mallow every Tuesday night, but most of the training runs are solitary. In the first week of January, the referees on the national panel will undergo a fitness test in Abbottstown with performance thresholds to meet. Those assessments can make or break a refereeâs season.
Murphy played intercounty football for Limerick for 10 years, but he is certain that he is fitter now than he was then. Heâs 46. The All-Ireland final lasted 100 minutes. At the end of extra-time Murphy was cramping.
âSome people said, âYou pulled your hamstring.â I didnât pull my hamstring. I was cramping. But youâve got to remember, three or four players had gone down before me. Theyâre 20 years younger. I didnât go down. I wonât go down. I was cramping â I had to get on with it.
âIn fairness, Liam Gordon was with me and Michael Kennedy and Chris Mooney [linesmen and fourth official]. Weâre all on radios and they drove me on. âKeep going Johnny, you only have another two minutes to go.ââ
He got there. What happened, happened. Next ball.
Iâm not sure thatâs the most advisable article.
He says a lot
Braindead to be agreeing to that interview.
Once he referred to himself in the third person it was all downhill from there.
Not very PC from Johnny
Good interview, fair play Johnny.
Better than the usual bland stuff.
Not sure why anyone would have an issue you that. The usual apes on the internet maybe
He shows the slightly narcissistic streak needed to be a successful referee. I think that ever so slightly the rub of the green went to Clare in the final, but not by much if anything. I also donât think the jersey tug should have been enough to put the ball wide from there. It was crowded and intense and fatigued.
He blows his own trumpet a bit, but you need that bombast or you just canât referee. I donât think refs are wired up quite like normal folk, but maybe there is chicken and egg in that.
In truth, nothing became Limerick more than the 65 call that went against them incorrectly, and the way they just accepted it and moved on.
The IC referees are absolutely brilliant for the most part when you get to watch them at club level first hand.
For sure.
I thought this was lovely, I wouldnât have expected theyâd be supporting each other though the mic like that. I suppose it was when they saw the cramp.
Makes me wonder are they supporting the ref when heâs considering a red card too, âgo on Johnny, sew it into the cunt!â
Counties can request an audio recording of the ref mics so theyâd all be on their best behavior.
That fella wouldnât have a fucking clue
Watched this final for the first time tonight on TG4. I listened to it live on the radio. Jaysus it was a great game. Tony Kelly was absolutely magnificent but what was Lohan at not whipping off Aron Shanagher. The chap almost single-handedly cost Clare the game with stupid fouls and giving the ball away. One of the worst All Ireland cameos of all time. Loyalty to a club man almost lost them the All Ireland
Saw the last few minutes there just now for the first time since seeing it live
Horganâs free with time running out was clutch

















