“Away ye go,” bellows Rory Gallagher. “Set the tone.” Off they hare. Studs pounding turf. What’s known as a ‘three-man weave’, in coaching parlance. Gallagher, standing, watching, berating. With each repetition, the pace is upped. The intensity maxed out.
Corduff. A tiny rural parish past the outskirts of Carrickmacross. A community of maybe 400 people. Most of them are here, at the club’s grounds, a fine two-pitch structure, passing the usual Sunday afternoon greetings in the car park beforehand.