THE block. Peter the Great’s pointed finger after hitting the Kerry net. Dooher’s stunning solo and score from underneath the Cusack. Sean McLaughlin’s last-gasp equaliser.
This should be the roll call of some of Tyrone’s greatest moments in All-Ireland finals, but there’s one too many entries on the list.
It’s the one that, when mentioned, brings a grimace rather than glee to the face of the Red Hand hardcore – and none moreso than Sean McLaughlin himself.
Deep into added time at the end of the 1995 final Tyrone, trailing by a point, have one last chance to salvage a draw and a second shot at the Dubs.
Ciaran Corr pumps the ball towards the small square, John O’Leary rises highest to fist clear but the ball lands with Peter Canavan.
An untimely slip threatens to extinguish a flame already flickering frantically in the wind, but Canavan still manages to find McLaughlin who makes no mistake, lashing between the posts.
As he wheeled away in celebration, the wave of euphoria dripping down from the stands was like nothing he had ever experienced.
That makes what transpired all the more cruel.
In the midst of the madness, the sound of Paddy Russell’s whistle had fallen victim to the deafening din of 65,000-plus inside Croke Park, the Tipperary ref controversially ruling that Canavan had scooped from the ground rather than connecting with a bouncing ball.
The debate will still occasionally rage and, 22 years on, nobody would have greater cause to carry that bitterness than McLaughlin.
Instead he approaches the subject not with anger or resentment but a mournful sense of regret, that horrible moment of realisation recalled with a world-weary sigh.
“I ran up the field - I was delighted, obviously,” he explains.
“We’d got a draw out of it, a draw would’ve been a great result for us, we would’ve got another crack at it. Then I looked over and said to Pascal Canavan ‘what’s wrong? What’s wrong?’ and he said it was no point.
“The next thing the final whistle went, the game was over. That’s how quick it happened. The pitch was invaded by Dublin fans and it was just over…
“Look, it’s a regretful thing that stays with you for the rest of your life because you get boys like you talking to me about it.”
A young lad only brought onto the panel by Art McRory and Eugene McKenna in the 1993/94 campaign, McLaughlin's inter-county career all but ended just two years after the day for which he is best remembered.
Work took him to Chicago in the late ‘90s before the love of a Cork woman brought him to the Rebel County around the turn of the Millennium.
Seventeen years an exile, a slight Cork inflection brings a softness to the end of some sentences but McLaughlin remains unmistakeably Tyrone, the parish of Drumquin rarely far from his thoughts in a family rooted in football.
He played a few years for Na Piarsaigh upon his arrival before leading Cill na Martra – home of former Cork hard man and 2010 All-Ireland winner Noel O’Leary – to an intermediate title.
When we first speak we have to reschedule because he is running out the door to take the U11s at the Eire Og club in Ovens.
Life has moved on, the summer of 1995 barely visible in the rear-view mirror.
The only time he has ever laid eyes on footage of that ill-fated final, it lasted only a matter of minutes.
Delighted to be asked up home to play in a Dublin v Tyrone 1995 legends game in memory of young Cian Corrigan six years ago, McLaughlin enjoyed the craic with old friends and foes from yesteryear.
The match itself never quite reached the intensity levels of 22 years previous but the banter in McAleer’s Bar was good, until somebody dusted down an old DVD and stuck it on in the lounge.
“That’s the only time I ever watched any of the match. The place was buzzing before that, and as soon as they turned that on…” he says before breaking into a chuckle, “the place just cleared, everybody left.
“It was depressing. Nobody wanted to watch it. I don’t have it on DVD or anything and I wouldn’t be seeking it out. Absolutely not.
“The funny thing is I had a really good chance to score a goal as well in that game. I was basically straight through, the ball just hit the outside of the post on the left hand side.
“I don’t know if we really got over it [the disappointment]. It was an awful feeling. I can still clearly remember coming through Emyvale in ’95… it was just very sombre. Awful.”
Those final dramatic seconds, played out in real time, were his sliding doors moment. Had Paddy Russell seen a bounce instead of a scoop and kept his whistle away from his lips, the story would be so different.
Sean McLaughlin’s magic moment would still be talked about in the same breath as all the others, his hero status secured.
Such are the fine margins of success and failure.
“It doesn’t matter now, the referee made the decision, but there was no way he [Canavan] picked the ball off the ground. The referee had a bad day, but what can you do? You can’t change it now.
“To the day I die, it’ll be there with me.”
