"How do you stick this Joe? It's pure torture. It's far easier playing."
A few seconds later we were back in our seats for extra-time, which proved every bit as enthralling as what had gone before. In truth, Derry were a little unlucky not to force the draw. In the last quarter of ordinary time, Donegal were clinging on and after Chris McKaigue's suitably massive equaliser, it looked as though there could be only one winner.
Not that Donegal hadn't been the better team. Far from it, for 60 minutes they had dominated in most of the important areas. Rather, they seemed surprised that they were on the brink of victory, which is unsurprising given their disastrous year to that point.
So, with the winning post in sight the jitters returned and they switched to full-on defensive mode which, in turn, invited Derry onto them, an invitation that was severely ill-judged given Derry's amazing attacking arsenal.
Kielt, Lynch and Eoin Bradley duly landed a series of breathtaking long range scores and the ordinary time whistle saved Donegal.
Earlier, Karl Lacey had held Paddy in a vice, partly helped by Donegal's absolute midfield dominance. Karl is an unlikely looking Donegal footballer, with his white boots, perfect tan, immaculately groomed hair and boy band good looks. One could easily imagine him running down a sandy beach in slow motion, flicking his head to one side, and as his black locks toss and settle, looking directly at the camera and saying because Im worth it!
He might look like a prize labrador, but he defends like a doberman. His marking job on Paddy was absolutely central to the rise of Donegal's confidence. At the heart of the Donegal effort was Kevin Cassidy, the game's most influential player. Derry made no inroads at all in this sector, in spite of the fact that we played with three midfielders.
Our three can't attack or score, whereas Donegals could. Barry McGoldrick was completely lost at centre half-back and has simply not been able to get to grips with this most difficult position. Number 6 is a mysterious combination of man marking and holding the space. Barry did neither and Conal Dunne hovered up so many breaking balls and set up so many attacks that I lost count.
For the point that won the game, Barry didn't go near Conal for Barry Gillis' kick-out. It broke to Conal and he put it on a plate for the score. Perhaps No.11 is more suited to Barry's game, but there is no doubt that as things stand, he is a fish out of water at No. 6.
In the final analysis though, the skids really went under Derry because of the full-back problem. All year long I have felt desperately sorry for Kevin McCloy as he has struggled with a chronic loss of confidence. It is hard to explain why this most solid player has fallen into such a prolonged nightmare, but it continued from the off on Saturday, and by the time he was replaced, Donegal's nervous but highly gifted front two were up and running.
Magnificent Murphy
A word on Michael Murphy, who has the potential to be the next big thing. Six feet two inches, very powerful, two footed, he boasts tremendous vision and technique. At one stage on Saturday, he turned onto his left 50 yards out and popped it over the bar as though from the 21.
He repeatedly held Sean Marty off with one hand while catching the ball with the other, something I havent seen since Frank McGuigan. His orchestration of the first crucial goal was masterly. A high ball was booted in and as he rose for it with Sean Marty all over him, he simply flicked it up into the air with his right hand, turned and as he raced in on goal it dropped back into his arms, leaving Sean Marty stranded. Because he is two footed, the Derry defence didnt know which foot to take, he drew them and gave an inch perfect pass for an easy McFadden goal. For the second killer goal, he rose to another high one and delicately flicked it behind himself for the inrushing Cassidy to crash home. This boy can be the best footballer in the game. At the moment however, he doesnt fully believe in himself. Let us hope that this problem will dissolve as he matures, since he is capable of anything . . . . and I mean anything!
Anyway, back to the game. As extra time began, the general consensus was that Donegal were done for, a feeling that was reinforced seconds later when Eoin Bradley left Karl Lacey scratching his head in bewilderment at another seemingly impossible point. Then, came the crucial goal against the run of play. The goal didn't halt the Derry surge, but it gave Donegal the motivation to throw their all into it for the last ten minutes, and time simply ran out on us, though not before Derry engineered the perfect chance for an equaliser. With seconds to go, Donegal had circled the wagons. Derry were probing left and right looking for the breakthrough. The crowd was squealing and gasping as the ball moved from hand to hand. Once there was almost an interception and I feared that a Donegal woman behind me was going to pass out. My own heart was thumping.
Then, it happened. Kielt and Lynch fooled the defenders, a perfect hand-pass went over the top and suddenly Enda Lynn was through the cordon and bearing straight down on goal. From the 21, straight in front of the goal, he somehow screwed it wide. It was hard to be upset with him, it is, after all, what Enda does.
A man beside me threw himself on the ground between the seats, his head in his hands. The final whistle blew. We sat their dazed, but exhilarated. In fact I sat there a good while with my sons, soaking it up. After such a monumental, heart-stopping contest, it was difficult to feel disappointed. Indeed, all week I have felt quite the opposite. The way both teams threw themselves into it (even if Derry only rose to the occasion in the last quarter) was positively heroic and the occasion will always be remembered by those lucky enough to have been there.Congratulations to both teams and their mentors, since this in the end is what football is all about.
The older I get the more convinced I become that Danny Blanchflower was right when he said "the great fallacy is that the game is first and last about winning. It is nothing of the kind. The game is about glory, it is about doing things in style and with a flourish, about going out and beating the other lot, not waiting for them to die of boredom."After last Saturday, who could disagree?