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7th January 2015
10:48am GMT

Throughout all the success, the titles, the individual accolades and all the marvellous rest, something has been gnawing at Alan Brogan. Something that perhaps runs deeper than the free-flowing exterior that washes unstoppably over the plains of Croke Park every summer. Something that he still wants. Something he needs.
Ask any child starting out with a piece of leather between their hands what their hopes and dreams of the future hold and they’ll do well to paint a picture as colourful as Alan Brogan’s national exploits with Dublin have.
Ask any man though. Ask someone who has been embedded in this way of life for a generation and they’ll admit that a county title with their club, their community, their family, is something priceless. The chance to celebrate with those you grew up with, the club that moulded you, the home which promises to provide a haven forever, when county careers come and go, that’s the biggest dream.
And yet, somehow, in all his blessings, fate has been so cruel to deny Alan Brogan his club championship.
And it’s not like he hasn’t had a sniff of it either. It’s not like St Oliver Plunkett Eoghan Ruadh haven’t been banging on the door when the nature of it is that all this might have been easier if they were nowhere near it.
It’s a phenomenal but unfortunate sight when you can go to Parnell Park on a freezing Monday night in October and see a man who has touched greatness at the very highest level all over the country reduced to sheer and utter dejection because his club have suffered an agonising defeat for a third time at that finishing line they just refuse to retreat from.
Where else in the world would you get it?
Where else could a sports star of such distinction be chained by one slave-making dream that is the AIB Club Championship?
Alan and his world-beating brother Bernard might well rule the roost of the 12 counties in Leinster, they might even hold more power over the 20 others, but when the third Sunday of September passes, when the Dublin jersey has been hung up for the year and the heart of the GAA reopens its calendar, those two superstars are no different to the rest of us. They are no different to the other 2,000-plus clubs around the island desperately, frantically, endlessly chasing the holy grail of an organisation that has community lining through its very core. They’re just dreamers, too. Human.
The country speculates about Alan Brogan’s next move, whether or not the most diverse attacker of his generation will call time on a glittering county career in a move which would probably be too soon for a talent sure to reap more rewards on the biggest stage.
Whatever his decision, whatever his thinking, it won’t change a thing. Come next October, Alan Brogan will still be that same man relentlessly hunting success in the toughest championship around. He’ll still be that same club man trying to realise the same dream as the rest of us.
And he’ll still be heartbreakingly unfulfilled until he gets what he deserves.
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