by Adam Moynihan

For most players, posting 1-9 and being named Man of the Match in a county final would define a career. For David Clifford, it didn’t even define his weekend.

Less than 48 hours before he led East Kerry to another title in Tralee, Clifford was in the Dublin Docklands picking up his fourth All-Star in five attempts. (But for the pandemic, there’s a decent chance it would be five in five.)

He was also crowned Footballer of the Year at the GAA’s end-of-season gala which effectively means that the 23-year-old PE teacher has already achieved all there is to achieve when it comes to intercounty football. His widely predicted ascent to the very top of the game is complete. The Fossa man is the best Gaelic footballer in the country. Or the world, if you want to be American about it.

That much is undeniably true but more contentious is the debate surrounding Clifford’s place amongst the all-time greats.

It’s an interesting question and one that crops up regularly in the smoking areas and quiet corners of Kerry’s public houses, but the reality is that it’s simply too early to judge his legacy and his career just yet. All going well he could have a decade left in him. Maybe more, maybe less.

Who knows what the future will bring for him and for his team, but right now the honours section of his Wikipedia page doesn’t compare with those of Colm Cooper or Pat Spillane, for example. It doesn’t even compare with those of some of the Dublin players who have won it all in recent times.

For this reason, it’s not right to call Clifford the GOAT. I’ve done it myself online in emoji form, for instance when he executed his drag back and finish against Galway in 2021, but I think the term “GOAT” has become less literal and more symbolic over time. When fans of soccer clubs start using the acronym to describe some mediocre centre half who has just made a basic tackle, the word loses whatever weight it had in the first place.

You really can’t refer to a player as young as Clifford as the greatest ever. As much as he has achieved, he hasn’t achieved enough yet. He needs to do it again and again and put together a body of work over a longer period to earn that particular title.

But I will stand over what I said recently, and what I’ve been saying about Clifford for a good while now: he is the best player I’ve ever seen.

At this point you might rightly ask what I mean by “best” and how he can be the “best” but not the “greatest”.

“Best” to me refers to how good he is at football - in the purest form of that notion. Forget the accomplishments and the silverware. Things like that contribute to a player’s legacy but they have no bearing on the simple act of you or me, as observers, going to a match and watching a footballer on a pitch.

How good is Clifford in this regard? To me, he is the best. The way he plays - his skill levels, his technique, his physicality, his creativity, his attitude - I’ve never seen anything like it.

You can make strong arguments for other wonderful players, many of them Kerrymen, who have gone before him, and that’s fair enough. Everyone has their own favourites and, when it boils down to it, judging a footballer is as subjective as judging a painter or a musician or any other kind of artist. Some people like James Corden. There’s no accounting for taste.

But when you really break down and analyse the games of other legendary players, are there many things they were able to do on a pitch that Clifford can’t? Are there any?

Conversely, are there things Clifford can do on a pitch that they couldn’t?

Again, all-time greats are judged by their careers. Although his place in the pantheon of Kerry legends is already secured, he will only be considered god of gods if he and his team sample even more success in the coming years. With that in mind, I’ll show restraint with the goat emojis for now.

In pure footballing terms, though, and judging him solely by how he plays the game, I firmly believe that I’ve never seen anyone better.