O'Brien driven by a warrior's instincts
By Anthony Lynch
HERE'S a piece of trivia about Stephen O'Brien: in the late 1980s, around the time he was crossing the threshold from boy to man, the members of Nemo Rangers learned that the subject of Michael Collins was an item not to be raised in Stephen O'Brien's presence. Not, that is, if they wanted to get home at a reasonable hour. ``He was a big Michael Collins fan,'' says former teammate, Dinny Allen. ``If you had a pint with him, and you got him talking about Michael Collins, you could be there until midnight.''
His enthusiasm for the founder of the Irish Free State did not end at the bar. Take a glance at any pre-game photograph of Cork over the last decade and seek out O'Brien. He may be standing up at the back row with his hands by his sides, he may be sitting down with his arms folded, or kneeling, holding a match ball. What you will never find is a photograph where O'Brien actually looks directly at the camera.
``When I was younger, I was deep into Michael Collins, I started reading biographies about him on a regular basis. It was one trait I picked up from him: he never looked at the camera. So I think I was trying to emulate Michael Collins, and it just stuck.''
If we choose to worship the people whose qualities we wish for ourselves, then O'Brien's choice was appropriate. On the football field, O'Brien possesses a warrior instinct of which his hero would have approved.
``He developed a football maturity at a very young age,'' says Dinny Allen. ``At 17 or 18, he was making decisions on the pitch that you would normally expect from a 30-year-old. If a fella decided to test him out, see how tough he was, even at 18-19 he was able to respond to that. His maturity on the ball in a crucial situation was amazing. Some fellas would panic in a vital situation, but Stephen was always able to keep a cool head. Not once did I ever see him kick a ball away in a vital situation.''
O'Brien was just 18 when he was thrown into the heat of battle of an All-Ireland final against Meath. Sink or swim time. O'Brien didn't need a life raft. ``I loved it. Absolutely loved it. It was physical enough, but that side of a game wouldn't faze me as such. You knew that at any stage fellas were there to take care of you as well. You had the Cahalanes, Counihans, Corrigans, Jimmy Kerrigan ... these fellas would have been as hard as would come along. They wouldn't mind mixing it either. They said `if you get any hassle, just mention it and we'll take it care of it.' Which was great for a young lad to hear. I didn't have to mention it too often, mind.''
Through 12 years of service, his ball-winning and distribution have made him a vital cog in the Cork engine. Last Sunday, in his first start of the current league campaign, he looked as potent as ever. Starved of possession due to his teammates' persistence with the short ball game, O'Brien made cake from the crumbs, winning a second half penalty which Joe Kavanagh failed to convert.
``He has so much awareness of what's around him, he brings other players into the game,'' says Dinny Allen. ``He's so mature now, he doesn't care what he does at full-forward once Cork win. If he doesn't score a point it doesn't matter. If Cork win and he does a job in there, that's his job done. You need fellas like that.''
In the dying minutes, he limped off with a tweaked hamstring, but his performance was good enough to re-open a debate which has raged in the southern capital since last September.
When the All-Ireland final was in the melting pot in the final ten minutes, and Cork found themselves strangled by Meath's pure desire, what they vitally needed was a man who could get his hands on the breaking ball and dictate the course of the game. O'Brien had specialised in that role for a decade, but he was neither on the pitch nor sitting with the substitutes.
THE previous February he had been introduced in a vital league tie against Galway, and turned the game in Cork's favour. With two minutes remaining he won a penalty which ultimately kept Cork in the competition, but dislocated his collarbone in the process. His return was delayed by a subsequent leg injury, and when he was invited back for an A versus B game 10 days before the Munster final, he went over on his ankle. He went off again, got himself fit and waited for the call. It never came.
After the All-Ireland, O'Brien resumed duties with Nemo Rangers, the sheer quality of his performances leading the club to the brink of a county title. It merely underlined the extent of his loss in September. So why wasn't he brought back?
``It had gone too late to bring him back,'' says Larry Tompkins. ``Our lads were flying at the time, it would have been unfair to the guys that were there to suddenly bring in a guy that wouldn't have got the work done throughout the whole year.''
But wasn't that a mistake in hindsight? ``Not at all. We were ten minutes away from winning an All-Ireland. If we had Stephen O'Brien, it would have been a major plus, but that wasn't the case. It was unfortunate, but that's the way it goes. I missed an All-Ireland final myself in '93 through injury.''
However, there are many people in Cork who would concur more readily with O'Brien's own assessment. ``I felt I was fit enough. It was a year when there wasn't a whole lot of (Cork) experience on the field. I don't know whether I would have contributed but it's always nice to have a blend of experience and youth. Any manager will tell you that. But they (the management) made their decision, as they were entitled to do. That's fine by me.''
Through the interview, O'Brien mentions his acceptance of the manager's decision often. So often that you sense he doth protest too much. Deep down, what probably hurts him most is the certainty that O'Brien would have contributed in the All-Ireland final. Because, in the past, when the stakes were highest, he always did.
He was just 19 when Billy Morgan entrusted him with the full-back position for the 1989 season. That Cork went on to win the All-Ireland senior, under-21 and league titles suggests the move was a success. O'Brien also won the first ot two All-Ireland club titles with Nemo Rangers. The following season he picked up an All Star (the first of three) on the road to another senior All-Ireland medal, then represented his country in the victorious compromise rules series in Australia. His 21st birthday had still to arrive, yet O'Brien had conquered the football world.
With the advancing years, O'Brien suffered a little for his own versatility. As the team broke up and deficiencies in Cork's forward line emerged, O'Brien was nudged forward out of his best (centre-back) position to fill the gaps.
The transitional years also provided the roots from which the differences between O'Brien and Tompkins emerged.
O'BRIEN believes strongly that an over-emphasis on physical preparation is destroying the more skilful elements of the game. It is a philosophy at variance with Larry Tompkins' total fitness mantra.
For his part, Tompkins believed that, in latter years, O'Brien was not physically as well prepared as he should have been. ``It would have been a bone of contention between the two alright,'' says a current Cork player, ``but then Stephen wouldn't have been the only player to have problems over Larry's beliefs about physical training. With Larry, you either you do it his way or you don't do it at all.
``The thing about Stephen is that he achieved everything there is possible to achieve in the game at such a young age. As a result, he probably got a little bit lazy in himself. Knowing his ability, I would say there was definitely more in him than he produced at times. This year, though, he's training harder than anyone. He's nearly back to where he was and all I can see is things getting better for Cork with him in the side.''
Fair enough, but how does Stephen O'Brien's relationship with his manager stand now? ``I've known him for ten or twelve years. We wouldn't be drinking buddies; we wouldn't be calling up to each other's houses or anything, but if Larry Tompkins rang me, or I met him on the street, I'd stop to talk to him as much as anyone else. There are some fellas you pal around with, others you don't.''
But the rumours suggest there is on-going friction. Is that totally untrue? ``I suppose it is. People like to stir things up. I try to steer clear of any friction because I think it is important to get on with anyone you are involved with, whether they be players or selectors. Ultimately, we are all there for the one reason, to win something for Cork. Larry's as dedicated to that cause as I am. I have to respect him for that the same way he respects me for it.''
For Cork supporters, the most gratifying image last Sunday was the sight of Tompkins and O'Brien discussing matters on the pitch during the half-time interval. Only injuries, rather than personality differences, are likely to prevent O'Brien leading the Cork attack this summer. All other issues have been left where they belong: on the shelf beside the Michael Collins history books.