But then a strange yet familiar thing happened.

Armagh seemed to sit back, inviting Derry onto them. Before they knew it they were out of the championship proper by the same manner as they had left the Ulster championship. Just like against Donegal in Ballybofey, they had been cruising, only to again lose by a point, again being outscored by 10 scores to nine. It would take a lengthy discussion with the Armagh players to know exactly what went on in the closing quarter of both their defeats to Donegal and Derry, but we can hazard a good guess that they made the cardinal if common mistake of thinking of the outcome instead of the process of winning. And as a result of such a distraction, their play became more cagey and less aggressive.

To avoid that trapdoor, they could have done with setting what sport psychologists call 'performance' goals. In Ballybofey Armagh had scored 1-8. With 10 minutes to go that looked like being enough to win but nine scores had been the lowest an Armagh team had scored in the championship in 10 years.

Before playing Derry it would have been a reasonable goal to say that whatever happens, any Armagh team should register at least 10 scores, minimum, probably 12. Armagh though didn't push on like a side that had set out that performance goal.

It's strange that the lack of performance goals might have contributed to the demise of Armagh because performance goal-setting had been the foundation of their greatest success.

It is now part of folklore how at half-time in the 2002 All Ireland final, Joe Kernan chucked his 1977 runners-up plaque against the shower wall to "motivate" his troops. But motivation by definition is both an intensity and direction of effort. By throwing the plaque, Kernan might have helped raise Armagh's intensity of effort, but that would have been futile if there was no way of channelling effort. Something else he said during that half-time break provided that, something far more significant than the plaque theatrics.

After his players had trooped in, trailing Kerry by four points, Kernan read out a series of stats from the first half, one of which instantly startled his players: "Breaking Ball . . . Kerry 19, Armagh 17." It had only been the second time all season that Armagh had been beaten in that category after a half of football. Armagh resolved to win that category in the second half. They did, by 71 per cent to 29. And they won that game by a single point.

Kerry themselves would later benefit from such a principle. Before last year's All Ireland semi-final, Jack O'Connor set the performance goal of keeping Cork to five points or less per half; achieve that and winning the game would take care of itself. Kerry kept Cork to five points per half . . . and won, with five points to spare.

It applies to every sport. At the start of last season Alex Ferguson realised that just trying to win the Premiership was too vague a goal; a better way of achieving it would be to meet the goal of at least 90 points.

Before the 1996 All Ireland final, Liam Griffin told his team that if they held Gary Kirby to four points from frees, Wexford would win the All Ireland. Wexford held Kirby to two frees . . . and won by two points.

Earlier that same year, the Tralee Tigers won the national basketball superleague under the inspirational leadership of their coach, Timmy McCarthy, the RTE basketball commentator who also acts as Ger Canning's stats man for GAA games.

With RTE, McCarthy's signature comment is to exclaim "Get that stuff out of here!" after a defender has jumped up and blocked an opponent's shot, yet one of McCarthy's signature rules as a coach is for his players to refrain from even attempting such a defensive play. While 'checking' is a spectacular and athletic play, to McCarthy the coach it's a low-percentage play that invites much more foul trouble for his players than it reduces opponents from scoring.

Instead he prefers his players to stand straight up and put their hands up straight. If teams can shoot and score over them, fair enough, but they're not going to get cheap visits to the free-throw line.

In 17 of Tralee's 18 league games that season, they went to the free-throw line more than their opponents. Only twice all season did they reach seven team fouls in a half and have a player fouled out. By setting the process goal of his players being merely shot adjusters instead of shot blockers, Tralee achieved their performance goal of avoiding foul trouble and getting more free-throws than their opponents and, in doing so, achieved their outcome goal . . . winning the league.

Elite athletes in individual sport especially know the value of performance goals. When the UK swimmer Adrian Moorhouse was a youngster, he changed clubs shortly after seeing David Wilkie win the 1976 Olympics. When his new coach asked him what his long-term goal was, Moorhouse said, "To win the Olympics." The coach instantly replied, "Okay, what time are you going to win it in?"

After that Moorhouse would set a series of performance goals and on the eve of the 1984 LA Games, was favourite for gold. He only came fourth;

the reason, he would later admit, was because he was so worried about whether he'd win or lose. In Seoul his goals were different. Naturally, one of them was to win . . . that's what kept him motivated for four years . . . but the others were to swim in a particular time and particular way, to stay strong and hold his stroke in the last 10 metres.

Moorhouse won that Olympics. By a fingernail. By holding his stroke in the last 10 metres.

The lesson is there for everyone. Think of outcome and you're likely to get the outcome you don't want. But focus on performance and process, and the outcome you desire is more likely to care of itself.

Kieran Shannon is a qualified and practising sports psychologist and can be contacted at kshannon@tribune. ie