Ollie Honeyman Probably doesn't know it, But he is one of Leitrims all time Greats. By Tomas Conlon of the Roscommon Herald When Oliver Honeyman made his senior championship debut against Sligo in 1979 the Leitrim Observer reporter wrote the following week that Honeyman's display "bore all the hallmarks of a great star in the making". The making has gone on for 14 years now and during that time he has opened, one after another, the doors marked "promising", "good" and "very good" and passed through. And some time during the last few years he has walked through the final door marked "great" - though he probably doesn't know it. For one of the fundamental requirements of greatness is longevity and as he stands midway through his 14th championship season it is clear that Honeyman has paid his dues - and more. He has not become a "star", however, or even an All Star, and at 32 years of age never will. These accessories are dependant on team success and media exposure and even if G.A.A. coverage has become a national growth industry a team must be moderately successful before it's brightest members catch the eye at national level. And Leitrim has not known even moderate success at senior level over the last 13 years. The yardstick is championship and by championship standards the last 13years, (and longer) has been a time of sustained disillusion: Leitrim has not even contested a Connacht final, must less won one in that time. One cannot say, therefore, that Honeyman has been with Leitrim through good times and bad, merely that he has been with them through bad times and worse. And though he has enjoyed his football career enormously, the thought saddens him. "It sometimes bothers me alright. I always wanted to play in a Connacht Final and definitely hoped to do it but ... it is disappointing. Asked why, he replies: "Hadn't enough good players I suppose - It's hard to know really". But he accepts that, in any event, there was no other team he could play for. With the G.A.A. you play where you're born and that's the way it is. But if that is it's enduring strength it also means that the natural order whereby the best rise to the top is subverted. The history of Gaelic games is littered with the names of great players who languished eternally in poor teams, who pursued personal excellence but knew only collective failure. It's a tradition of loyalty that might well be wiped out as more and more money comes into the game and players are lured to the stronger, richer counties by the promise of material rewards. It may not be a good thing - but who can blame them if they do? A few pounds in the pocket is after all a more tangible asset than a few pats on the back. But that is all in the future. When Honeyman started out back in '79 the age of innocence was still at hand and the excitement he felt at entering the adult world of senior county football filled him with hope and optimism. The merciless reality that was Mayo, Galway and Roscommon, however, constantly trampled over that optimism in the ensuing years - but never subdued it. And his commitment to personal excellence remained strong, m 1981 Galway beat Leitrim by 16 points in the first round: the Observer wrote that Honeyman at centre half back "crowned himself in glory with a scintillating performance". His first four years with the county coincided with his days in UCC where he studied Dairy Science in between training for the Sigerson Cup. He had the rare distinction of making the Sigerson team in his first year the thrived in the intensely competitive, high quality football of that competition. His final year exams in 1983 prevented him from lining out against Galway that year - the only year he has missed since his debut. Two late Barry Brennan points pulled it out of the fire for Galway that day, the day Leitrim came nearest to making the breakthrough in that decade. A decade of defeats to the big powers. But within that decade the expectations of the supporters had alternated in a cycle between high hopes and downright pessimism. A decent team at the turn of the decade had raised hopes and come close in '82 - losing by a goal to Mayo in the semi final - as well as '83. But by '84 the cycle had shifted to disillusion again as successive teams suffered humiliating losses to Mayo and Galway. 1987 offered temporary respite with Leitrim chasing Galway to the wire before losing by a goal. A year later, however, Mayo dished out another drubbing and in 1989 came the nadir: a five point defeat to Sligo in the first round. Honeyman confided on the long journey home that night that in his eleven years on the team, this was his worst moment. But he and a handful of other veterans kept the faith and were ready to serve when the cycle swung back to hope again. In the spring of '90 PJ. Carroll took over a team desperate to retrieve it's pride and from that desperation came a string of victories that took the team into Division Two and gave it a genuine core of self belief which it retains to this day. The team quickly caught the imagination of a Leitrim public with little else to cheer about and it was during that first season that Honeyman became something of a folk-hero. Where Michael Martin had generated respect and admiration, Honeyman inspired affection. And how they loved him! (And still do, of course). Perhaps it was his improbably physical appearance, with what one writer called his "flashing pate", which made him instantly recognisable. And they rejoiced in his immense strength, the way he could "toss" an opponent with one crunch from his clenched shoulder and hip, and how, sensing their mood, he would burst out of a crowded goalmouth and power the ball downfield to a rising swell of cheers. But his game is as much about perception as power. His reading of the game is exceptional, his anticipation frequently takes him first to the ball - though it often looks as if the ball is somehow magnetised to him! And, to complete the package, there is the mental strength, the indestructible inner confidence that makes him such a player on the big day. Not that he doesn't know fear and insecurity - all players do. It's just that he is able to fight those demons more ruthlessly than most. It's a mental process he goes through before every big game. "You ask yourself searching questions and if you know you can answer them, you know you can do it. But yes, there's always an element of fear too, self-doubt, fear of the unknown. That's the motivating thing - fear of losing, the implications of losing on your mind - that's what gives you the edge". "But you also have a secret core of inner confidence as well -especially if you've done it before. Confidence is a vital factor. The ideal specimen is a player who has both the physical and mental strength". Where Oily is concerned, however, the body may give in before the nerve does. He has fought a running battle with the weight for a few years now and despite his bottomless heart and appetite for pain, it's not a battle he's winning - he has slowed. Being selected at comer back doesn't help: there's more ground to cover and generally a pacy opponent to cover it with. At full back he would have less of both to contend with and it would probably add an extra season to his career, many event, time is running out so is this year to be the year for the breakthrough? "I'm optimistic. Our level of fitness is better, we're fresher man we were last year and our forwards are moving very well so 1 m more than hopeful". I remind him that he is an inveterate optimist: "I am - but sure what have you if you haven't got optimism", he replies. Taken from Hogan Stand magazine 19th June 1992 Tweet

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