Michael Moynihan

WE'RE a bit late with our tribute to Damian Fitzhenry. Apologies. We've been busy.
Allow us, however, to join in the tributes to the Wexford No 1 that have been paid in recent days. Unlike many of his contemporaries in the Golden Age of Goalkeeping, the Wexford man often played behind a far more porous rearguard. When Kilkenny supporters complained that James McGarry's excellence went unrewarded by All-Star selectors,  the flinty defence protecting him took much of the blame. Fitzhenry's ability was a matter of public record.
As has been pointed out, the Wexford man also posed an offensive threat: only two years ago he was a foot or so away from putting Wexford through to an All-Ireland semi-final when the vapour trail from his 20m free against Waterford late in the quarter-final steamed above, rather than below, the crossbar.
A few years ago we took ourselves to Páirc Ui Rinn one evening to watch Cork play Wexford in the National Hurling League under lights.
It wasn't a work gig so we settled on the terrace at the Cork Constitution end of the ground - that’s us, one of the people - which was the goal defended by Fitzhenry in the first half, and he was good that evening, particularly under the dropping ball.
You will find plenty of people to bemoan the emasculation of hurling, but fielding a sliotar dropping between two men swinging their hurleys is still a fair test of a goalkeeper's nerve.
 Fitzhenry passed that test, even if there was a question mark about a Cork goal, given his hurley seemed to be interfered with.
After a lengthy evening's refreshment, your correspondent and other miscreants found ourselves seeking hot food for the walk home. We tried a chipper in the city centre where, at the head of the queue, was D. Fitzhenry (Duffry Rovers).
After brief negotiations he agreed to relay our order to the man behind the counter and we all headed home happy. Memories of Fitzhenry’s order have faded over the years, but for some reason the image of a double cheeseburger rises unbidden . . .
Flann O’Brien often gave examples of Things That Could Only Happen In Ireland, and we’re happy to submit the above as an entry for that list. In many other countries it’s unlikely that you would encounter many top sportsmen in a chipper within a few hours of watching them perform - no sly jibes about the juxtaposition of ‘top sportsmen’ with ‘chipper’, please - but we won’t belabour the point: it was refreshing to meet the Wexford man and confirmed the general impression that he was one of the good guys.
Just one question: we wanted curry sauce with our chips that evening. Did Fitzhenry make the executive decision to rule out that messy condiment?
If so, for the sake of the dry-cleaning bill we would have faced, we’re even more grateful.