Against the Breeze
By Paddy Heaney
First Published 24/02/2009
DURING the International Rules tour in Melbourne last year, GAA President Nickey Brennan announced that Belfast was being lined up to host the first Test in this year’s series.
Brennan wanted the game to be staged in IRELAND’S SECOND CITY. Unfortunately, others in Croke Park, including the incoming president Christy Cooney, didn’t share Brennan’s enthusiasm for staging the game in Casement Park.
When the discussion returned to Ireland, the GAA’s management committee came up with an alternative plan. They asked the four provincial councils to make a case for a venue in their jurisdiction. At this juncture, Casement Park’s bid to host the first Test was dead in the water.
How can we make this claim? Very simply. That’s the way the GAA works.Can anyone recall the Connacht Council having to submit a proposal for Pearse Stadium when the first Test was staged there in 2006?
The bidding process was a classic GAA smokescreen: its sole purpose was to give the illusion that Casement Park was defeated in a fair, democratic process.
It’s all window-dressing of course. If there was a will by the GAA’s management committee for this game to be held in Ireland’s second city, then it would have been done and dusted with the minimum of fuss. The notion that each of the four provinces had an equal chance is a total farce. After Pearse Stadium was used in 2006, no stadium in Connacht stood a chance. The same applied to any venue in Leinster as Croke Park is used for the second test.
As it panned out, a bid for Casement Park was submitted by Antrim secretary Frankie Quinn. The Cavan County Board also put in a bid for Kingspan Breffni Park. Both submissions paled in comparison to the all-singing and all-dancing business plan that was submitted in favour of the Gaelic Grounds by the Limerick County Board.
Their bid for the Gaelic Grounds came with a letter of endorsement from the Munster Council and included letters of support from a range of third parties including media groups and commercial interests in Limerick. The Limerick County Board and the Munster Council should be congratulated on their success – but it must be noted that the access to the Gaelic Grounds is awful and the changing rooms are no better than in Casement Park. The irony in all of this is that Nickey Brennan, who campaigned to have the Test held in Belfast, received virtually no support from Ulster when he went head-to-head against Cooney in the race for the presidency in 2005.
Meanwhile, Cooney, who got huge support from Ulster due to his opposition to the opening of Croke Park, didn’t seem to remember those votes when it came to holding the International Rules game in Belfast. It’s a pity that Cooney and his colleagues in the GAA’s Management Committee failed to appreciate why this game should be staged in Ireland’s second city.
The dire state of Gaelic games in Belfast is probably the single biggest problem facing the GAA. Dublin is thriving compared to its northern counterpart. The contrast was illustrated at the start of the National League. With the help of Dublin’s enthusiastic fan base, a total of 79,161 fans were packed into Croke Park for the county’s opening game against Tyrone. The following day, a trickle of Antrim fans turned up to watch the Saffron footballers play Wicklow in Casement.
The vast scale of the malaise facing Belfast was rammed home to me a few weeks ago when I accepted an invitation from St Gemma’s High School in north Belfast to speak to some of their pupils, and others from their feeder primaries. Over the course of an enjoyable day, I spoke to four different groups of roughly 30 pupils. From approximately 120 children, about half-a-dozen were members of a GAA club (Ardoyne Kickhams).
In one group, not a single pupil had ever heard of Mickey Harte (some Irish News columnists are better known than others). Like other inner city areas, north Belfast is afflicted by high unemployment, low incomes, poor health, fractured social structures, low educational achievement, and poor housing.
But these problems can’t be used as an excuse for the virtual non-existence of the GAA. Ballymun isn’t exactly the French Riviera, but they have a first class GAA club. Furthermore, the problems experienced in inner city Belfast are the very reason why the GAA should be trying to gain a foothold in these areas.
A sporting and cultural organisation that promotes a sense of individual worth, and fosters pride in place is exactly what these communities need. Yet, let’s not kid ourselves – while the GAA is struggling in parts of west and north Belfast, it’s not exactly thriving in the south of the city. There are three primary schools within half-a-mile of the Ormeau Road and Gaelic football isn’t being coached in any of them.
Again, the comparison with Dublin demonstrates the chasm between the country’s two main urban centres. St Vincent’s from north Dublin won last year’s All-Ireland club championship, while Kilmacud Croke’s from the prosperous south of the city have qualified for this year’s final.
Dublin clubs have benefited from massive cash investment from the Leinster Council and Central Council. Belfast is playing catch-up, but the Ulster Council is in the final stages of completing a strategy designed to address the problems affecting the city.
Yet, just think how an International Rules test in west Belfast would have helped to generate some interest in the GAA. Free tickets could have been distributed to primary schools. Yes, it would only be a start, but it would serve as an introduction to Cumann Luthchleas Gael. But instead, the game goes to Limerick and Munster, the province of the incoming president, Christy Cooney.
Who knows? The schoolchildren among the 570,000 population of urban Belfast might watch it on television. Or then again, they mightn’t even know the game is taking place. Belfast.
As far as some in the GAA are concerned, IRELAND’S SECOND-CLASS CITY.
- Readers of Paddy’s column can enjoy a glossy 12-page Best of Against the Breeze booklet free in The Irish News tomorrow, Thursday and Friday.
VISIT THE OFFICIAL IRISHNEWS.COM 125 SITE CLICK HERE
Tuesday 24 February 2009
Tuesday 17 February 2009
Did you deserve to receive a card on Valentine’s weekend?
Against the Breeze
By Paddy Heaney
First Published 17/02/09
Fast, free-flowing football devoid of cynicism and interruptions. Classy forwards allowed to express themselves. Marauding defenders charging up the pitch and not being body-checked. More scores and fewer frees. Sounds good, doesn’t it?
This is precisely what the experimental rules were supposed to offer. And so far, it seems good. We have been given a tantalising glimpse of what the game could be and it looks fantastic.
The counter-argument, that the rules are taking the physicality out of football, is complete nonsense. There’s nothing manly about pulling jerseys, third-man tackling, and hauling good footballers to the ground. Show me the manager who makes this complaint and I’ll show you a manager with a blanket defence and a shortage of proper footballers.
Given the manner in which these new rules could transform gaelic football for the better, it is hugely tempting to ignore our misgivings and accept the changes at the next Congress.
However, the following stark warning must be heard: If the county boards accept the new rules as they are, then they will have been sold a pup. Unless the rules undergo some serious revision, then nothing but chaos lies in store.
The fundamental problem with the new rules is that the referee is entrusted with far too much responsibility. His interpretation will completely dictate the outcome of a game.
It’s actually unfair on referees because it is putting far too much pressure on them. The very reason this current experimentation hasn’t already ended in uproar is because match officials have not enforced the rules.
Probably through a mixture of sound judgement, sympathy for the players, pressure from Croke Park, and fear of the crowd, the country’s top whistlers have steadfastly refused to implement the new laws.
Subsequently, we have been served up some tasty games. But this has been the result of the country’s top referees doing their best with a system that is inherently flawed.
Sunday’s game between Tyrone and Kerry was a prime example. Jimmy White is a top class referee. He won five county championship with Killybegs as a player/manager. He understands the game. His display in the 2007 Ulster Club final between Crossmaglen and St Gall’s was one of the finest I’ve ever seen.
Like all good whistlers, Jimmy can quickly grasp the rhythm of a game and he tries to let it flow without getting in the way.
But these new rules call for referees to get in the way. They are devised to root out the type of cynical, tactical, and disrupting fouling that has blighted the game.
Unfortunately, we are so conditioned to this type of football that we no longer pass any remarks when a forward decides to haul down a defender who is trying to launch a counter-attack.
Jimmy chose to turn a blind eye when Colm McCullagh grabbed Marc O Se’s jersey and hauled him to the ground. McCullagh had already been black booked. But the black book shouldn’t have made any difference.
The rules are clear: ‘To pull down an opponent’ is a yellow card offence. McCullagh should have walked. So too should Sean O’Sullivan. His late and clumsy shoulder charge into Owen Mulligan’s back was an obvious booking that was not yellow-carded.
While O’Sullivan escaped without the prescribed censure, Conor Gormley was black-booked for his first foul on Tommy Walsh. When Gormley committed his second foul on Walsh in the 35th minute, he should have walked. Again, the rules are clear, but again, White took no action.
By the end of the first half, Jimmy had yellow-carded Joe McMahon. But had he implemented the rules by the letter of the law then Colm McCullagh, Conor Gormley, and Sean O’Sullivan should also have been replaced.
And of course, how Ryan McMenamin managed to stay on the pitch for the entire 73 minutes is nothing short of a miracle. We can only assume that Jimmy received a card and a dozen roses from ‘Ricey’ the previous day.
While Jimmy must have missed Ricey’s ‘cupping’ of Paul ‘Gazza’ Galvin, the Tyrone defender could have been yellow-carded for a selection of other offences.
But now the question we have to ask ourselves is this: was it the type of first half which merited four yellow cards and one red? The answer is an unequivocal ‘No.’
Again, the reason the game wasn’t ruined was because Jimmy White chose to ignore the rules. But consider the possibilities if these new rules were left in the hands of bog-standard club referees. There would be anarchy.
And it’s not just Jimmy White who has adopted a ‘pick and mix’ approach.
On Sunday, Pat McEnaney completely ignored two blatant yellow card offences during the game between Derry and Westmeath. Again, Pat probably did right by doing wrong. But we are talking about the best referees in the country. Sligo’s Marty Duffy behaved in a similar manner for the showcase game between Dublin and Kerry.
However, it seems that the footballers from the lower leagues aren’t benefiting from the same type of leeway.
Antrim had two players replaced in their McKenna Cup game against Armagh. Michael Magill and Aodhan Gallagher could have little complaint – but Armagh players went unpunished for worse offences. Then, at the weekend, Conor McGourty was yellow-carded for a nothing challenge against the Clare goalie.
These new rules have lots to offer. Pat Daly, the head of Games Development at Croke Park, has correctly identified the cancer that’s killing football. The new rules have pointed us in the direction the game must progress.
But, as things stand, it’s impossible for anyone to make a proper judgement on the new rules because we have yet to see them being implemented.
And the fact that the best referees in the country are unwilling to enforce the rules suggests some more work is required.
VISIT THE OFFICIAL IRISHNEWS.COM 125 SITE CLICK HERE
By Paddy Heaney
First Published 17/02/09
Fast, free-flowing football devoid of cynicism and interruptions. Classy forwards allowed to express themselves. Marauding defenders charging up the pitch and not being body-checked. More scores and fewer frees. Sounds good, doesn’t it?
This is precisely what the experimental rules were supposed to offer. And so far, it seems good. We have been given a tantalising glimpse of what the game could be and it looks fantastic.
The counter-argument, that the rules are taking the physicality out of football, is complete nonsense. There’s nothing manly about pulling jerseys, third-man tackling, and hauling good footballers to the ground. Show me the manager who makes this complaint and I’ll show you a manager with a blanket defence and a shortage of proper footballers.
Given the manner in which these new rules could transform gaelic football for the better, it is hugely tempting to ignore our misgivings and accept the changes at the next Congress.
However, the following stark warning must be heard: If the county boards accept the new rules as they are, then they will have been sold a pup. Unless the rules undergo some serious revision, then nothing but chaos lies in store.
The fundamental problem with the new rules is that the referee is entrusted with far too much responsibility. His interpretation will completely dictate the outcome of a game.
It’s actually unfair on referees because it is putting far too much pressure on them. The very reason this current experimentation hasn’t already ended in uproar is because match officials have not enforced the rules.
Probably through a mixture of sound judgement, sympathy for the players, pressure from Croke Park, and fear of the crowd, the country’s top whistlers have steadfastly refused to implement the new laws.
Subsequently, we have been served up some tasty games. But this has been the result of the country’s top referees doing their best with a system that is inherently flawed.
Sunday’s game between Tyrone and Kerry was a prime example. Jimmy White is a top class referee. He won five county championship with Killybegs as a player/manager. He understands the game. His display in the 2007 Ulster Club final between Crossmaglen and St Gall’s was one of the finest I’ve ever seen.
Like all good whistlers, Jimmy can quickly grasp the rhythm of a game and he tries to let it flow without getting in the way.
But these new rules call for referees to get in the way. They are devised to root out the type of cynical, tactical, and disrupting fouling that has blighted the game.
Unfortunately, we are so conditioned to this type of football that we no longer pass any remarks when a forward decides to haul down a defender who is trying to launch a counter-attack.
Jimmy chose to turn a blind eye when Colm McCullagh grabbed Marc O Se’s jersey and hauled him to the ground. McCullagh had already been black booked. But the black book shouldn’t have made any difference.
The rules are clear: ‘To pull down an opponent’ is a yellow card offence. McCullagh should have walked. So too should Sean O’Sullivan. His late and clumsy shoulder charge into Owen Mulligan’s back was an obvious booking that was not yellow-carded.
While O’Sullivan escaped without the prescribed censure, Conor Gormley was black-booked for his first foul on Tommy Walsh. When Gormley committed his second foul on Walsh in the 35th minute, he should have walked. Again, the rules are clear, but again, White took no action.
By the end of the first half, Jimmy had yellow-carded Joe McMahon. But had he implemented the rules by the letter of the law then Colm McCullagh, Conor Gormley, and Sean O’Sullivan should also have been replaced.
And of course, how Ryan McMenamin managed to stay on the pitch for the entire 73 minutes is nothing short of a miracle. We can only assume that Jimmy received a card and a dozen roses from ‘Ricey’ the previous day.
While Jimmy must have missed Ricey’s ‘cupping’ of Paul ‘Gazza’ Galvin, the Tyrone defender could have been yellow-carded for a selection of other offences.
But now the question we have to ask ourselves is this: was it the type of first half which merited four yellow cards and one red? The answer is an unequivocal ‘No.’
Again, the reason the game wasn’t ruined was because Jimmy White chose to ignore the rules. But consider the possibilities if these new rules were left in the hands of bog-standard club referees. There would be anarchy.
And it’s not just Jimmy White who has adopted a ‘pick and mix’ approach.
On Sunday, Pat McEnaney completely ignored two blatant yellow card offences during the game between Derry and Westmeath. Again, Pat probably did right by doing wrong. But we are talking about the best referees in the country. Sligo’s Marty Duffy behaved in a similar manner for the showcase game between Dublin and Kerry.
However, it seems that the footballers from the lower leagues aren’t benefiting from the same type of leeway.
Antrim had two players replaced in their McKenna Cup game against Armagh. Michael Magill and Aodhan Gallagher could have little complaint – but Armagh players went unpunished for worse offences. Then, at the weekend, Conor McGourty was yellow-carded for a nothing challenge against the Clare goalie.
These new rules have lots to offer. Pat Daly, the head of Games Development at Croke Park, has correctly identified the cancer that’s killing football. The new rules have pointed us in the direction the game must progress.
But, as things stand, it’s impossible for anyone to make a proper judgement on the new rules because we have yet to see them being implemented.
And the fact that the best referees in the country are unwilling to enforce the rules suggests some more work is required.
VISIT THE OFFICIAL IRISHNEWS.COM 125 SITE CLICK HERE
Thursday 12 February 2009
Warring Rebels shouldn’t wait for a Pyrrhic victory
Against the Breeze
By Paddy Heaney
First Published 10/02/2009
Maggie Thatcher’s daughter, Carol, got sacked from her job in the BBC last week because she refused to apologise for referring to a black tennis player as a “golliwog”.
Thatcher made the dreadful comment during a private conversation with the presenter Adrian Chiles and the comedienne Jo Brand. Chiles and Brand reported her. There has been some discussion as to why Chiles and Brand were so willing to tout on Thatcher. Political correctness? Maybe.
Politics probably had something to do with it. I have my own pet theory, which I hope is true. I’d like to think that Chiles suffered in some way during Maggie Thatcher’s reign of power. Maybe a family member lost their job.
Jo Brand might also have a callous regard for the Thatchers. A former nurse, she will have witnessed at first hand how Maggie’s cutbacks would have crippled the National Health Service. When presented with the chance of exacting some revenge against the Thatcher dynasty, Brand and Chiles seized it without hesitation.
I dearly hope my theory is true. It could be. Maggie Thatcher and her children’s children will be despised for generations to come. This is the price you pay for ‘not turning,’ and for being prepared to do whatever it takes to win. The Cork County Board should take note. They share some similarities with the ‘Iron Lady.’
In 1984 Thatcher practically invited Arthur Scargill to strike. She created conditions that were so unacceptable to the British miners that Scargill’s National Union of Mineworkers had little other choice. Thatcher had chosen her battleground carefully. She was in a strong position of power, and the full force of the establishment was behind her. The miners were led into an ambush.
The Cork County Board’s decision to reappoint Gerald McCarthy has a certain Thatcherite touch to it. The players had made it known to the board they didn’t want McCarthy. But the board weren’t interested in the players. After the previous year’s strike, they reckoned the public’s sympathy with the players had been exhausted. If the hurlers downed tools again, then it would prove Sean Og and Donal Og were unmanageable, power-hungry, spoilt brats.
Rather than setting out to appease the players, the board jumped at the chance to put the players in their place, and to end the power struggle once and for all. Thatcher’s battle with the miners was part of her bigger war against the trade unions. She wanted to prove the days of the country being dictated to by the unions were over. Defeating the miners was her way of forcibly demonstrating that she was in charge.
Like Thatcher, the Cork board is determined to prove they run gaelic games in the county. They are prepared to see this one through to the bitter end. Gerald McCarthy has evidently being given assurances that he will be backed to the hilt.
It has all got extremely personal and poisonous. Cork hurling is now ripping itself apart. It’s the sporting equivalent of civil war. Houses are divided. Jerry O’Sullivan is chairman of the county board. His son, Paudie is one of the striking hurlers.
Club teams are divided. Kieran Murphy is from Sarsfield’s. He is on strike, but five of his fellow clubmen lined out for the Cork team beaten by Dublin on Sunday.
More than 2,000 Cork supporters turned out to watch a third choice team get beaten by the Dubs. It was a huge crowd for such a fixture. The Cork fans who paid E15 at the turnstiles gave the players a standing ovation before the game, at half-time, and at the final whistle.
There was no admission charge to the public rally held for the striking hurlers in Cork city centre the previous day. Nevertheless, people have other things to be doing on a cold Saturday afternoon and more than 10,000 turned up. It was a dramatic show of support.
But Gerald McCarthy isn’t interested. On the same day, he went on RTE radio and got involved in a ding-dong debate with Donal Og Cusack.
McCarthy argued that the current stand-off is not really about the players’ principles. Instead, he suggested the strike is part of a sub-plot where the long-term aim is pay-for-play.
McCarthy is an honourable man but his words somehow ring hollow. The irony in all of this is that the players are striking because they are amateurs. They don’t play to get paid. They play to win. And they don’t think they are going to win with Gerald McCarthy in charge of them. It’s really that simple.
The Offaly footballers are exactly the same. At the weekend, they ousted Richie Connor, the captain of the All-Ireland winning team of 1982. It was nothing personal against Richie. But you can’t commit yourself to a cause if you think the man in charge isn’t competent. The Wexford hurlers and the Cork footballers performed a similar stunt last year.
In each case, John Meyler and Teddy Holland walked away. It was the sensible thing to do. Further down the line, we must start to ask ourselves: where this is going to end? Many GAA supporters will believe that players are getting too big for their free boots. They will sympathise with county boards whose decisions and appointments are increasingly being undermined and questioned by the players.
Yet, these spats can easily be avoided by sensible management. By communicating with the players, and sussing out their opinions, it’s easy to discover which candidates will command respect in the changing room. The trouble is the Cork County Board is not interested in satisfying the needs of its hurlers. This strike is about personalities and power. It’s about showing who runs Cork hurling.
In their bid to assert authority, the county board is prepared to force their own sons into exile. Like Maggie Thatcher, they could win. And we could very well have seen some of these fine hurlers in the red jersey for the last time.
That would be a huge pity, and not just because these players would be denied the chance to win the MacCarthy Cup. No, the real tragedy would lie in the decades of resentment that such an outcome is guaranteed to generate.
There are some battles where the price of victory is just too great. Sometimes, you’ve got to surrender to win. Gerald McCarthy and the Cork County Board really can’t afford the legacy of bitterness that will come gift-wrapped from winning this particular stand-off. It’s a victory that will be thrown in the faces of their children’s children.
By Paddy Heaney
First Published 10/02/2009
Maggie Thatcher’s daughter, Carol, got sacked from her job in the BBC last week because she refused to apologise for referring to a black tennis player as a “golliwog”.
Thatcher made the dreadful comment during a private conversation with the presenter Adrian Chiles and the comedienne Jo Brand. Chiles and Brand reported her. There has been some discussion as to why Chiles and Brand were so willing to tout on Thatcher. Political correctness? Maybe.
Politics probably had something to do with it. I have my own pet theory, which I hope is true. I’d like to think that Chiles suffered in some way during Maggie Thatcher’s reign of power. Maybe a family member lost their job.
Jo Brand might also have a callous regard for the Thatchers. A former nurse, she will have witnessed at first hand how Maggie’s cutbacks would have crippled the National Health Service. When presented with the chance of exacting some revenge against the Thatcher dynasty, Brand and Chiles seized it without hesitation.
I dearly hope my theory is true. It could be. Maggie Thatcher and her children’s children will be despised for generations to come. This is the price you pay for ‘not turning,’ and for being prepared to do whatever it takes to win. The Cork County Board should take note. They share some similarities with the ‘Iron Lady.’
In 1984 Thatcher practically invited Arthur Scargill to strike. She created conditions that were so unacceptable to the British miners that Scargill’s National Union of Mineworkers had little other choice. Thatcher had chosen her battleground carefully. She was in a strong position of power, and the full force of the establishment was behind her. The miners were led into an ambush.
The Cork County Board’s decision to reappoint Gerald McCarthy has a certain Thatcherite touch to it. The players had made it known to the board they didn’t want McCarthy. But the board weren’t interested in the players. After the previous year’s strike, they reckoned the public’s sympathy with the players had been exhausted. If the hurlers downed tools again, then it would prove Sean Og and Donal Og were unmanageable, power-hungry, spoilt brats.
Rather than setting out to appease the players, the board jumped at the chance to put the players in their place, and to end the power struggle once and for all. Thatcher’s battle with the miners was part of her bigger war against the trade unions. She wanted to prove the days of the country being dictated to by the unions were over. Defeating the miners was her way of forcibly demonstrating that she was in charge.
Like Thatcher, the Cork board is determined to prove they run gaelic games in the county. They are prepared to see this one through to the bitter end. Gerald McCarthy has evidently being given assurances that he will be backed to the hilt.
It has all got extremely personal and poisonous. Cork hurling is now ripping itself apart. It’s the sporting equivalent of civil war. Houses are divided. Jerry O’Sullivan is chairman of the county board. His son, Paudie is one of the striking hurlers.
Club teams are divided. Kieran Murphy is from Sarsfield’s. He is on strike, but five of his fellow clubmen lined out for the Cork team beaten by Dublin on Sunday.
More than 2,000 Cork supporters turned out to watch a third choice team get beaten by the Dubs. It was a huge crowd for such a fixture. The Cork fans who paid E15 at the turnstiles gave the players a standing ovation before the game, at half-time, and at the final whistle.
There was no admission charge to the public rally held for the striking hurlers in Cork city centre the previous day. Nevertheless, people have other things to be doing on a cold Saturday afternoon and more than 10,000 turned up. It was a dramatic show of support.
But Gerald McCarthy isn’t interested. On the same day, he went on RTE radio and got involved in a ding-dong debate with Donal Og Cusack.
McCarthy argued that the current stand-off is not really about the players’ principles. Instead, he suggested the strike is part of a sub-plot where the long-term aim is pay-for-play.
McCarthy is an honourable man but his words somehow ring hollow. The irony in all of this is that the players are striking because they are amateurs. They don’t play to get paid. They play to win. And they don’t think they are going to win with Gerald McCarthy in charge of them. It’s really that simple.
The Offaly footballers are exactly the same. At the weekend, they ousted Richie Connor, the captain of the All-Ireland winning team of 1982. It was nothing personal against Richie. But you can’t commit yourself to a cause if you think the man in charge isn’t competent. The Wexford hurlers and the Cork footballers performed a similar stunt last year.
In each case, John Meyler and Teddy Holland walked away. It was the sensible thing to do. Further down the line, we must start to ask ourselves: where this is going to end? Many GAA supporters will believe that players are getting too big for their free boots. They will sympathise with county boards whose decisions and appointments are increasingly being undermined and questioned by the players.
Yet, these spats can easily be avoided by sensible management. By communicating with the players, and sussing out their opinions, it’s easy to discover which candidates will command respect in the changing room. The trouble is the Cork County Board is not interested in satisfying the needs of its hurlers. This strike is about personalities and power. It’s about showing who runs Cork hurling.
In their bid to assert authority, the county board is prepared to force their own sons into exile. Like Maggie Thatcher, they could win. And we could very well have seen some of these fine hurlers in the red jersey for the last time.
That would be a huge pity, and not just because these players would be denied the chance to win the MacCarthy Cup. No, the real tragedy would lie in the decades of resentment that such an outcome is guaranteed to generate.
There are some battles where the price of victory is just too great. Sometimes, you’ve got to surrender to win. Gerald McCarthy and the Cork County Board really can’t afford the legacy of bitterness that will come gift-wrapped from winning this particular stand-off. It’s a victory that will be thrown in the faces of their children’s children.
Common ‘cents’ prevails as festivities get the thumbs-up
Against the Breeze
By Paddy Heaney
First Published 03/02/09
WHILE driving through north Dublin on Sunday morning, I spotted two hurling teams waiting for the sliotar to be tossed in. It was 11am. I wasn’t envious. There was a biting wind. The car was warm. Not a day for short trousers. The scene reminded me of my school days. Saturday mornings on the loughshore. Poached eggs and toast for breakfast. The right fuel for football in Derrylaughan and Brocagh.
Later on Sunday afternoon, I tuned in to watch some of TG4’s coverage of the National Football League. Again, the scenes weren’t particularly inviting. The game in Pairc Ui Chaoimh had a certain Siberian resonance. Grey, empty, windswept terraces. All that was missing were some soldiers and snow.
But we cannot dismiss or be ashamed of these things. The GAA is about long, boring and unproductive committee meetings. It is about poor games played in front of sparse crowds. For much of the time, it is about the mundane tasks of washing jerseys, selling tickets and driving to another training session.
We keep doing these things safe in the knowledge that we are part of a unique and magnificent sporting organisation. And, at times, we need to remind ourselves of what we have, and how far we have come.
Anyone who had the privilege of being in Croke Park on Saturday night was given that reminder in some style. The message was rammed home with champagne football, bright lights, and glittering explosions. Forceful, convincing and persuasive arguments had been made to criticise the GAA’s decision to spend e500,000 on a fireworks display.
Rather than enter the debate, I decided to wait and see what Jarlath Burns and his committee were going to give us for our money. I think it’s safe to say that anyone who was in Croke Park will not be complaining about the cost.
And let’s not forget, it was the five extra euro added to the admission fee which paid for the visual feast. Besides, not too long ago, half-a-million euro wouldn’t have bought you a bedsit in Ranelagh. Admittedly, the football match was the highlight of the night. In the first half, we were treated to an exhibition from the All-Ireland champions.
Stephen O’Neill has a sublime talent that deserves a bigger audience than club games in Tyrone. It was uplifting to see him strutting his stuff on the stage that befits his majestic left boot. The same can be said of ‘Mugsy’. His goal was great. But the puffed chest, raised chin, and dramatic stare into the throat of Hill 16 was even better. More of the same, please, Mugsy.
What followed after the parade of the teams in 19th century kits and the superb match was a radical departure from the Artane Boys Band. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
Yes, it cost a few quid. Yes, the money could have been used to serve other purposes. But that argument can always be made. An obsession with purpose and with function created places like communist Russia.
The trains ran on time, but no-one was in any rush to leave their grey concrete tower blocks. Why waste money on paint when it could buy new staplers and paper clips for the civil service?
Communism fell because democracy painted better pictures. Potato dumplings might be good for you, but Big Macs and bottles of Coke look good. And people crave colour in their lives. We want a bit of razzamatazz.
The GAA is celebrating 125 years of existence and on Saturday night they presented the Association to the country in a cacophony of colour and strobe lighting. Like any great party, anyone who got off their backside and went to it was glad they made the effort.
But would the men who gathered in the billiards room of the Hayes Hotel in 1884 have approved of spending e500,000 on a fireworks display? Don’t leap to any conclusions. The objective of the GAA’s founding fathers was to promote Ireland’s indigenous games and to stop the country from being colonised by the pastimes of the British Empire.
For much of the past 125 years, the GAA has invested much of its energy in securing the property on which the games would be played. The men in the clubs and counties who realised this vision were not small-minded penny-pinchers. More often than not, they borrowed big in lean times.
Men like Peter Quinn, who forged ahead with redeveloping Croke Park while the IRFU and FAI dithered and waited on Bertie to take them by hand. Nowadays, the battleground has changed, but the threat posed by soccer and rugby remains as large as ever.
So how can the GAA compete with Sky TV’s manic marketing for another Super Sunday? How can young Irishmen resist the allure of mimicking Ronaldo’s gleaming tan and his eye-catching goals?
The answer was given to us at the weekend when the GAA staged its own propaganda show.
Like the citizens of Rome, we gathered at the amphitheatre to watch the games and rejoice at our own magnificence. The spectacle will have had a positive effect on the thousands of impressionable young minds who were brought to the colosseum in north Dublin. Pictures were painted for these future gladiators of the GAA.
And it needs to be so. Because if the GAA is to succeed and prosper for another 125 years, then we need children to grow up wanting to emulate Stevie O’Neill rather than Stevie Gerrard, to score goals like Owen Mulligan rather than Michael Owen.
To achieve that aim, the GAA must provide occasions that will inspire and fire the ambition of the nation’s youth. Given the competition from the Premiership and the Champions League, a couple of big Sundays in September are not enough.
There were 79,161 at Croke Park. Smaller crowds filed into Anfield and the Raymond James Stadium in Tampa for the Super Bowl.
In Croke Park, we were entertained, we were thrilled, we were made to feel proud. The stars of the future were given stars to watch and enough pomp and pageantry to rival any other sport. Some of them just might need to know that there is more to the GAA than shivery Sunday mornings.
€500,000. And it was raised by charging an extra €5 on every seat.
Bah. For propaganda like that, it was a pittance.
By Paddy Heaney
First Published 03/02/09
WHILE driving through north Dublin on Sunday morning, I spotted two hurling teams waiting for the sliotar to be tossed in. It was 11am. I wasn’t envious. There was a biting wind. The car was warm. Not a day for short trousers. The scene reminded me of my school days. Saturday mornings on the loughshore. Poached eggs and toast for breakfast. The right fuel for football in Derrylaughan and Brocagh.
Later on Sunday afternoon, I tuned in to watch some of TG4’s coverage of the National Football League. Again, the scenes weren’t particularly inviting. The game in Pairc Ui Chaoimh had a certain Siberian resonance. Grey, empty, windswept terraces. All that was missing were some soldiers and snow.
But we cannot dismiss or be ashamed of these things. The GAA is about long, boring and unproductive committee meetings. It is about poor games played in front of sparse crowds. For much of the time, it is about the mundane tasks of washing jerseys, selling tickets and driving to another training session.
We keep doing these things safe in the knowledge that we are part of a unique and magnificent sporting organisation. And, at times, we need to remind ourselves of what we have, and how far we have come.
Anyone who had the privilege of being in Croke Park on Saturday night was given that reminder in some style. The message was rammed home with champagne football, bright lights, and glittering explosions. Forceful, convincing and persuasive arguments had been made to criticise the GAA’s decision to spend e500,000 on a fireworks display.
Rather than enter the debate, I decided to wait and see what Jarlath Burns and his committee were going to give us for our money. I think it’s safe to say that anyone who was in Croke Park will not be complaining about the cost.
And let’s not forget, it was the five extra euro added to the admission fee which paid for the visual feast. Besides, not too long ago, half-a-million euro wouldn’t have bought you a bedsit in Ranelagh. Admittedly, the football match was the highlight of the night. In the first half, we were treated to an exhibition from the All-Ireland champions.
Stephen O’Neill has a sublime talent that deserves a bigger audience than club games in Tyrone. It was uplifting to see him strutting his stuff on the stage that befits his majestic left boot. The same can be said of ‘Mugsy’. His goal was great. But the puffed chest, raised chin, and dramatic stare into the throat of Hill 16 was even better. More of the same, please, Mugsy.
What followed after the parade of the teams in 19th century kits and the superb match was a radical departure from the Artane Boys Band. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
Yes, it cost a few quid. Yes, the money could have been used to serve other purposes. But that argument can always be made. An obsession with purpose and with function created places like communist Russia.
The trains ran on time, but no-one was in any rush to leave their grey concrete tower blocks. Why waste money on paint when it could buy new staplers and paper clips for the civil service?
Communism fell because democracy painted better pictures. Potato dumplings might be good for you, but Big Macs and bottles of Coke look good. And people crave colour in their lives. We want a bit of razzamatazz.
The GAA is celebrating 125 years of existence and on Saturday night they presented the Association to the country in a cacophony of colour and strobe lighting. Like any great party, anyone who got off their backside and went to it was glad they made the effort.
But would the men who gathered in the billiards room of the Hayes Hotel in 1884 have approved of spending e500,000 on a fireworks display? Don’t leap to any conclusions. The objective of the GAA’s founding fathers was to promote Ireland’s indigenous games and to stop the country from being colonised by the pastimes of the British Empire.
For much of the past 125 years, the GAA has invested much of its energy in securing the property on which the games would be played. The men in the clubs and counties who realised this vision were not small-minded penny-pinchers. More often than not, they borrowed big in lean times.
Men like Peter Quinn, who forged ahead with redeveloping Croke Park while the IRFU and FAI dithered and waited on Bertie to take them by hand. Nowadays, the battleground has changed, but the threat posed by soccer and rugby remains as large as ever.
So how can the GAA compete with Sky TV’s manic marketing for another Super Sunday? How can young Irishmen resist the allure of mimicking Ronaldo’s gleaming tan and his eye-catching goals?
The answer was given to us at the weekend when the GAA staged its own propaganda show.
Like the citizens of Rome, we gathered at the amphitheatre to watch the games and rejoice at our own magnificence. The spectacle will have had a positive effect on the thousands of impressionable young minds who were brought to the colosseum in north Dublin. Pictures were painted for these future gladiators of the GAA.
And it needs to be so. Because if the GAA is to succeed and prosper for another 125 years, then we need children to grow up wanting to emulate Stevie O’Neill rather than Stevie Gerrard, to score goals like Owen Mulligan rather than Michael Owen.
To achieve that aim, the GAA must provide occasions that will inspire and fire the ambition of the nation’s youth. Given the competition from the Premiership and the Champions League, a couple of big Sundays in September are not enough.
There were 79,161 at Croke Park. Smaller crowds filed into Anfield and the Raymond James Stadium in Tampa for the Super Bowl.
In Croke Park, we were entertained, we were thrilled, we were made to feel proud. The stars of the future were given stars to watch and enough pomp and pageantry to rival any other sport. Some of them just might need to know that there is more to the GAA than shivery Sunday mornings.
€500,000. And it was raised by charging an extra €5 on every seat.
Bah. For propaganda like that, it was a pittance.
Backstage work is what makes Harte’s Tyrone
Against the Breeze
By Paddy Heaney
First Published 27/01/2009
While the Dublin fans will pack out Croke Park on Saturday night, the focus of the attention will be on the visiting All-Ireland champions. And two of the eyes fixed on Tyrone will belong to Kerry manager Jack O’Connor. Jack might be sitting in the Cusack or the Hogan. Or he might watching at home in south Kerry. But he will be watching. We know that for sure.
Unlike other Kerry managers, Jack openly acknowledged that the Kingdom’s footballers could learn a lot from their northern cousins. One of the first things he did when taking over as Kerry manager was to arrange a meeting with an unnamed Ulster coach. Having watched Armagh and Tyrone get the better of Kerry in 2002 and 2003, O’Connor had identified a major weakness in the armoury of the Kingdom’s footballers.
They couldn’t tackle. Well, they couldn’t tackle as well as Tyrone and Armagh. O’Connor wanted to know that he could overcome this major deficiency.
In his book Keys to the Kingdom, O’Connor revealed that he hooked up with a collaborator from the north (who remains at large) who taught him specific coaching methods. Jack returned to Kerry with a smile on his face and a dossier of drills under his arm.
But that was back in 2003 and Mickey Harte is now entering his seventh year as Tyrone senior manager. Truth be told, neither Jack O’Connor nor anyone else will learn a whole lot new when watching Tyrone during Saturday night’s league opener in Croke Park.
By this stage, we are all too familiar with the Tyrone model. Harte will be on the sideline, motionless and pensive. Tony Donnelly, the trusted advisor and good friend, will be standing at his side. The Tyrone subs will be listed alphabetically, showing the absence of a hierarchy among the squad. The Tyrone team will not bear much similarity to the one that lined out at the same venue in September, but they will play to a similar style and pattern.
How do they do it? How can Harte’s teams keep winning with new faces and different gameplans?
The answer will not be found by watching video tapes of Tyrone in action. Rather, by this stage, it’s abundantly clear that the real secret to Tyrone’s success lies in what is done off the field.
Communication is central to Harte’s masterly management. Typically of the man, he’s never made any great secret of his methods.
After lifting Sam in 2003, Harte revealed in Knocking Down Heaven’s Door that he had been in frequent contact with Bart McEnroe. McEnroe is often described as a ‘motivational speaker’, but this is wholly inaccurate and misleading. Having spoken to other people who have sought out McEnroe’s services, the feedback is pretty much the same. Effective communication lies at the heart of McEnroe’s tutorials.
Getting the 30-odd players in the room to understand exactly what you want and how you want to achieve it is the key challenge facing any manager. Harte has identified this challenge as his primary task in the Tyrone management structure. He wants Tyrone to play to a certain system, but without being slaves to that system.
Harte preaches best practice, but doesn’t demand rigid adherence. This explains why his captain Dooher knows he has the liberty to take off on an 70-metre solo run, beat two men, and thump the ball over the bar with the outside of his boot in an All-Ireland final.
It’s a testament to Harte’s faith in the skill and intelligence of his own players that he allows them to operate within these parameters.
Many other managers, including professionals, often demand absolute obedience to the system... when you get to here, you kick the ball there, and so on. They trust the system, not the player. Harte is different. He trusts the players to work the system.
Sean Cavanagh is the best example. Last year Cavanagh was listed at full-forward, but he had the freedom to go where he pleased within about a 50-metre range of the goals. Sometimes Cavanagh stood on the square. At others times, he would be among the half-forwards, or even further back. It was up to Cavanagh to play where he felt the team needed him.
Few managers would give a player such a broad canvas – but then few managers have someone like Caroline Currid in their backroom team.
Last year, Currid’s role in the Tyrone backroom team was defined as ‘performance manager’. Again, the title offers no real clue towards her real brief.
The Sligo woman was recruited by Harte because he had identified a weakness in his own management techniques.
Although excellent at communicating with the media, Harte could often be detached and even introverted with his players.
He could be thinking about them. He could be impressed by them. He could be disappointed in them. Often, though, they’d be none the wiser.
Currid acted as conduit between the players and the management. Through her, they could provide negative and positive feedback. They were guaranteed anonymity while she couched the responses in a manner that reduced the possibility of any tension developing.
By providing an outlet for his players to communicate to him, and by being seen to act on that information, Harte probably increased the likelihood of the players acting on the instructions that he gave them.
Kerry manager Pat O’Shea didn’t enjoy the same bond with his players. When Paul Galvin slapped the book from referee Paddy Russell’s hand, he was doing his own thing. There was no system. No code of conduct. The same could be said for the three yellow cards issued to the Kerry players before half-time in the All-Ireland final.
Meanwhile, Harte brings in Stephen O’Neill from the cold without any dissent. He drops Ciaran Gourley for the final and there is no hassle. Brian McGuigan is happy not to start.
The members of the Tyrone camp understand what is happening and why it is being done. There are channels of communication and everyone appreciates the bigger picture.
Jack O’Connor has issues to address with the Kerry players. He has already taught them how to tackle. Now they must learn the necessity of discipline and why they must work to their system.
But if Jack wants to mimic Mickey Harte, he’ll not find any answers by watching Tyrone on Saturday night. By the time the ball is thrown in, most of Harte’s work has been done.
By Paddy Heaney
First Published 27/01/2009
While the Dublin fans will pack out Croke Park on Saturday night, the focus of the attention will be on the visiting All-Ireland champions. And two of the eyes fixed on Tyrone will belong to Kerry manager Jack O’Connor. Jack might be sitting in the Cusack or the Hogan. Or he might watching at home in south Kerry. But he will be watching. We know that for sure.
Unlike other Kerry managers, Jack openly acknowledged that the Kingdom’s footballers could learn a lot from their northern cousins. One of the first things he did when taking over as Kerry manager was to arrange a meeting with an unnamed Ulster coach. Having watched Armagh and Tyrone get the better of Kerry in 2002 and 2003, O’Connor had identified a major weakness in the armoury of the Kingdom’s footballers.
They couldn’t tackle. Well, they couldn’t tackle as well as Tyrone and Armagh. O’Connor wanted to know that he could overcome this major deficiency.
In his book Keys to the Kingdom, O’Connor revealed that he hooked up with a collaborator from the north (who remains at large) who taught him specific coaching methods. Jack returned to Kerry with a smile on his face and a dossier of drills under his arm.
But that was back in 2003 and Mickey Harte is now entering his seventh year as Tyrone senior manager. Truth be told, neither Jack O’Connor nor anyone else will learn a whole lot new when watching Tyrone during Saturday night’s league opener in Croke Park.
By this stage, we are all too familiar with the Tyrone model. Harte will be on the sideline, motionless and pensive. Tony Donnelly, the trusted advisor and good friend, will be standing at his side. The Tyrone subs will be listed alphabetically, showing the absence of a hierarchy among the squad. The Tyrone team will not bear much similarity to the one that lined out at the same venue in September, but they will play to a similar style and pattern.
How do they do it? How can Harte’s teams keep winning with new faces and different gameplans?
The answer will not be found by watching video tapes of Tyrone in action. Rather, by this stage, it’s abundantly clear that the real secret to Tyrone’s success lies in what is done off the field.
Communication is central to Harte’s masterly management. Typically of the man, he’s never made any great secret of his methods.
After lifting Sam in 2003, Harte revealed in Knocking Down Heaven’s Door that he had been in frequent contact with Bart McEnroe. McEnroe is often described as a ‘motivational speaker’, but this is wholly inaccurate and misleading. Having spoken to other people who have sought out McEnroe’s services, the feedback is pretty much the same. Effective communication lies at the heart of McEnroe’s tutorials.
Getting the 30-odd players in the room to understand exactly what you want and how you want to achieve it is the key challenge facing any manager. Harte has identified this challenge as his primary task in the Tyrone management structure. He wants Tyrone to play to a certain system, but without being slaves to that system.
Harte preaches best practice, but doesn’t demand rigid adherence. This explains why his captain Dooher knows he has the liberty to take off on an 70-metre solo run, beat two men, and thump the ball over the bar with the outside of his boot in an All-Ireland final.
It’s a testament to Harte’s faith in the skill and intelligence of his own players that he allows them to operate within these parameters.
Many other managers, including professionals, often demand absolute obedience to the system... when you get to here, you kick the ball there, and so on. They trust the system, not the player. Harte is different. He trusts the players to work the system.
Sean Cavanagh is the best example. Last year Cavanagh was listed at full-forward, but he had the freedom to go where he pleased within about a 50-metre range of the goals. Sometimes Cavanagh stood on the square. At others times, he would be among the half-forwards, or even further back. It was up to Cavanagh to play where he felt the team needed him.
Few managers would give a player such a broad canvas – but then few managers have someone like Caroline Currid in their backroom team.
Last year, Currid’s role in the Tyrone backroom team was defined as ‘performance manager’. Again, the title offers no real clue towards her real brief.
The Sligo woman was recruited by Harte because he had identified a weakness in his own management techniques.
Although excellent at communicating with the media, Harte could often be detached and even introverted with his players.
He could be thinking about them. He could be impressed by them. He could be disappointed in them. Often, though, they’d be none the wiser.
Currid acted as conduit between the players and the management. Through her, they could provide negative and positive feedback. They were guaranteed anonymity while she couched the responses in a manner that reduced the possibility of any tension developing.
By providing an outlet for his players to communicate to him, and by being seen to act on that information, Harte probably increased the likelihood of the players acting on the instructions that he gave them.
Kerry manager Pat O’Shea didn’t enjoy the same bond with his players. When Paul Galvin slapped the book from referee Paddy Russell’s hand, he was doing his own thing. There was no system. No code of conduct. The same could be said for the three yellow cards issued to the Kerry players before half-time in the All-Ireland final.
Meanwhile, Harte brings in Stephen O’Neill from the cold without any dissent. He drops Ciaran Gourley for the final and there is no hassle. Brian McGuigan is happy not to start.
The members of the Tyrone camp understand what is happening and why it is being done. There are channels of communication and everyone appreciates the bigger picture.
Jack O’Connor has issues to address with the Kerry players. He has already taught them how to tackle. Now they must learn the necessity of discipline and why they must work to their system.
But if Jack wants to mimic Mickey Harte, he’ll not find any answers by watching Tyrone on Saturday night. By the time the ball is thrown in, most of Harte’s work has been done.
Lyst-less RTE should put Pat in his place
Against the Breeze
by Paddy Heaney
First Published 20/01/2009
INTRODUCING strangers to Gaelic football can be a very revealing experience. An objective appraisal from a pair of untrained eyes will provide information we may or may not want to hear.
Over the years, I’ve brought a variety of people to matches or watched games on television with them. Almost without fail, the response is the same. Two themes predominate. The first is, not surprisingly, the tackle. Or, to be more precise, the lack of a properly-defined tackle. Newcomers struggle to understand why some tackles constitute a foul while others do not.
When faced with this query, I always provide the same answer. I tell them not to worry because it’s a subject that causes universal confusion – that’s part of the joy of it.
The second characteristic of Gaelic football which they find utterly baffling is, wait for it – Pat Spillane.
They are utterly baffled how a man who looks and sounds like Pat got a job normally reserved for silver-tongued types.
This particular phenomenon is not as easy to explain. To a certain extent, it is an Irish quirk. It could only happen in this country. It could also only happen in RTE.
And having made a right old pig’s ear of ‘The Late Late Show,’ which marked the GAA’s 125th anniversary, I decided that enough is enough. By this point it’s clear that RTE can’t be trusted when it comes to covering Gaelic Games. They need help.
In many ways, Pat Spillane embodies the lack of regard that RTE seems to hold for the people who watch the sport that provides them with their biggest viewing figures every year. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve no personal grudge against Spillane.
As a GAA pundit, he is peerless. But as a TV anchor, he ranks in the same division as the late Richard Whitely of Countdown – a man who proved that practice doesn’t necessarily make perfect.
So, rather than complain when the new Championship season is up and running, I thought it would be better to get the boot in now when there is time for the boys at Montrose to make the necessary changes.
There are a number of reasons why the eight-time All-Ireland medallist is totally unsuited to presenting The Sunday Game.
We’ll start with the obvious stuff. A good sports anchor should fulfil some basic criteria. They should be smooth and polished. Think Des Lynam, or the late David Vine. Pat is already struggling. More importantly again, they must be able to do their job without being seen to do their job. Like a good referee, they should be in total control, while also being invisible.
When done well, it looks incredibly easy, and perhaps this is part of the reason why the excellent Michael Lyster has never received the fulsome praise he deserves. Lyster is everything that Spillane isn’t. You could watch Lyster for many years without knowing what county he is from.
In the absence of anyone else being in the same league as the Galway man, it is time Lyster was brought back as anchor of The Sunday Game. GAA fans are envious every time they tune in to watch a major soccer game on RTE.
The wonderful Bill O’Herlihy is a treat to watch as he gently prods, cajoles and teases superb debate, rants and opinions from Dunphy, Giles and AN Other.
There is a skill in chairing a show, and Spillane has proved beyond immeasurable doubt that he doesn’t have it.
Spillane’s preferred style is one of his problems. His ‘Jeremy Paxman’ approach just doesn’t work. It’s good that he has no time for the type of ambiguous, wishy-washy responses that he is constitutionally incapable of providing.
But his method of extracting straight answers to straight questions is all wrong.
Jeremy Paxman interrogates politicians and ministers who are trained to deal with hostile interviews. Spillane works with men who want to give out a few soundbites for a few quid.
Spillane’s adversarial techniques often only succeed in putting his guests further into their shell.
He’s like a bullying barrister who wants to leave his witness a weeping wreck.
His bouts with Anthony Tohill are typical. They tend to go something like this.
Pat: “An-tinny, last week you told us Dublin were going to win. You were wrrrong. Tell us why were you wrrrong?
Anthony: [Pause] “I don’t know if...”
Pat: “You did. You did. Tell us why you were wrrrong?”
Anthony, after forcing another smile, will then try and give some explanation before he is later interrupted.
It doesn’t make pleasant viewing and it’s time RTE ended the torture of Tohill and their viewers.
RTE’s misguided decision to cast their most controversial pundit as a presenter was probably a result of copying BBC.
They saw the Beeb giving Gary Lineker, the golden boy of English soccer, a similar post with Match of the Day, and they followed suit. The anodyne Lineker has learned his trade and does a decent job.
But Spillane holds the same unflinching gaze when reading the autocue as he did when he started. Ironically, the shortcomings which make Spillane a poor host, also make him a fantastic pundit.
He is bursting with opinions and attitude. And, unlike many of the GAA’s talking heads, he doesn’t care who he offends. He has caused as many rows in his native Kerry as anywhere else. To date, he is the only GAA pundit who can rank alongside Eamonn Dunphy in terms of creating a national furore.
‘Puke football’. You may agree or disagree with the sentiment. But it was an original and emotive phrase which perfectly encapsulated Spillane’s disgust at the 2003 All-Ireland semi-final. Then there was the comment about his granny being able to beat Francie Bellew in a race. The list goes on.
By shoe-horning Spillane into the anchor role on The Sunday Game, RTE have hand-cuffed and gagged their prized commentator. It’s a ridiculous scenario. Lyster and Spillane have a talent for the small screen but they have been managed poorly by RTE.
In football parlance, the broadcaster has been keeping Lyster on the subs’ bench, while they’ve been playing Spillane, their best forward, in goals. A football manager wouldn’t get away with it, and RTE shouldn’t be allowed to either.
by Paddy Heaney
First Published 20/01/2009
INTRODUCING strangers to Gaelic football can be a very revealing experience. An objective appraisal from a pair of untrained eyes will provide information we may or may not want to hear.
Over the years, I’ve brought a variety of people to matches or watched games on television with them. Almost without fail, the response is the same. Two themes predominate. The first is, not surprisingly, the tackle. Or, to be more precise, the lack of a properly-defined tackle. Newcomers struggle to understand why some tackles constitute a foul while others do not.
When faced with this query, I always provide the same answer. I tell them not to worry because it’s a subject that causes universal confusion – that’s part of the joy of it.
The second characteristic of Gaelic football which they find utterly baffling is, wait for it – Pat Spillane.
They are utterly baffled how a man who looks and sounds like Pat got a job normally reserved for silver-tongued types.
This particular phenomenon is not as easy to explain. To a certain extent, it is an Irish quirk. It could only happen in this country. It could also only happen in RTE.
And having made a right old pig’s ear of ‘The Late Late Show,’ which marked the GAA’s 125th anniversary, I decided that enough is enough. By this point it’s clear that RTE can’t be trusted when it comes to covering Gaelic Games. They need help.
In many ways, Pat Spillane embodies the lack of regard that RTE seems to hold for the people who watch the sport that provides them with their biggest viewing figures every year. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve no personal grudge against Spillane.
As a GAA pundit, he is peerless. But as a TV anchor, he ranks in the same division as the late Richard Whitely of Countdown – a man who proved that practice doesn’t necessarily make perfect.
So, rather than complain when the new Championship season is up and running, I thought it would be better to get the boot in now when there is time for the boys at Montrose to make the necessary changes.
There are a number of reasons why the eight-time All-Ireland medallist is totally unsuited to presenting The Sunday Game.
We’ll start with the obvious stuff. A good sports anchor should fulfil some basic criteria. They should be smooth and polished. Think Des Lynam, or the late David Vine. Pat is already struggling. More importantly again, they must be able to do their job without being seen to do their job. Like a good referee, they should be in total control, while also being invisible.
When done well, it looks incredibly easy, and perhaps this is part of the reason why the excellent Michael Lyster has never received the fulsome praise he deserves. Lyster is everything that Spillane isn’t. You could watch Lyster for many years without knowing what county he is from.
In the absence of anyone else being in the same league as the Galway man, it is time Lyster was brought back as anchor of The Sunday Game. GAA fans are envious every time they tune in to watch a major soccer game on RTE.
The wonderful Bill O’Herlihy is a treat to watch as he gently prods, cajoles and teases superb debate, rants and opinions from Dunphy, Giles and AN Other.
There is a skill in chairing a show, and Spillane has proved beyond immeasurable doubt that he doesn’t have it.
Spillane’s preferred style is one of his problems. His ‘Jeremy Paxman’ approach just doesn’t work. It’s good that he has no time for the type of ambiguous, wishy-washy responses that he is constitutionally incapable of providing.
But his method of extracting straight answers to straight questions is all wrong.
Jeremy Paxman interrogates politicians and ministers who are trained to deal with hostile interviews. Spillane works with men who want to give out a few soundbites for a few quid.
Spillane’s adversarial techniques often only succeed in putting his guests further into their shell.
He’s like a bullying barrister who wants to leave his witness a weeping wreck.
His bouts with Anthony Tohill are typical. They tend to go something like this.
Pat: “An-tinny, last week you told us Dublin were going to win. You were wrrrong. Tell us why were you wrrrong?
Anthony: [Pause] “I don’t know if...”
Pat: “You did. You did. Tell us why you were wrrrong?”
Anthony, after forcing another smile, will then try and give some explanation before he is later interrupted.
It doesn’t make pleasant viewing and it’s time RTE ended the torture of Tohill and their viewers.
RTE’s misguided decision to cast their most controversial pundit as a presenter was probably a result of copying BBC.
They saw the Beeb giving Gary Lineker, the golden boy of English soccer, a similar post with Match of the Day, and they followed suit. The anodyne Lineker has learned his trade and does a decent job.
But Spillane holds the same unflinching gaze when reading the autocue as he did when he started. Ironically, the shortcomings which make Spillane a poor host, also make him a fantastic pundit.
He is bursting with opinions and attitude. And, unlike many of the GAA’s talking heads, he doesn’t care who he offends. He has caused as many rows in his native Kerry as anywhere else. To date, he is the only GAA pundit who can rank alongside Eamonn Dunphy in terms of creating a national furore.
‘Puke football’. You may agree or disagree with the sentiment. But it was an original and emotive phrase which perfectly encapsulated Spillane’s disgust at the 2003 All-Ireland semi-final. Then there was the comment about his granny being able to beat Francie Bellew in a race. The list goes on.
By shoe-horning Spillane into the anchor role on The Sunday Game, RTE have hand-cuffed and gagged their prized commentator. It’s a ridiculous scenario. Lyster and Spillane have a talent for the small screen but they have been managed poorly by RTE.
In football parlance, the broadcaster has been keeping Lyster on the subs’ bench, while they’ve been playing Spillane, their best forward, in goals. A football manager wouldn’t get away with it, and RTE shouldn’t be allowed to either.
No need for paid bosses to remain GAA taboo
Against the Breeze
By Paddy Heaney
First Published 13/01/09
HERE’S a question to get you thinking on this fine Tuesday. Why is it wrong to pay a manager in the GAA?
If you’re like me, then your gut response will be: ‘It just is.’ Then, after further consideration, you will note that the GAA is an amateur organisation and that it is supposed to be organised, governed, and played by volunteers.
Ever since it came into vogue, the business of paying managers has always been considered a subversive and shady enterprise.
The first chequebook clubs were widely ridiculed and criticised by neighbours that were quick to seize the moral high ground. But then, as one-by-one the majority joined the minority, the cat-calling became more and more muted.
Nowadays, there’s a deafening silence. The attitude towards paying managers is similar to the views on infidelity. People know it’s not right, but they accept it as the norm.
In this respect, yours truly is no different to the broad church of GAA supporters, and this column has frequently taken cheap pot-shots at recipients of the brown envelopes. However, those days are over.
Because after examining the whole issue of professional managers, I can no longer understand why it really is such a problem, or indeed, why it even contravenes the GAA’s rules.
My ‘Road To Damascus’ conversion on this issue started when I travelled to Croke Park at the end of last year for the launch of the GAA’s strategic plan.
Following an intensive consultation exercise, the six-year plan was compiled by Hutton/Kelly Consultants, a professional company, who were legitimately reimbursed for their efforts.
Paraic Duffy, the GAA’s highly-respected director-general, has taken ownership of the project and stated that he is willing to be judged on the results. Duffy is another salaried professional.
And, while speaking at the official launch, Duffy willingly acknowledged that the success and failure of the strategic plan hinges largely on the GAA’s network of full-time administrators who will try and roll it out to the county boards.
These full-time county secretaries and provincial council employees will be responsible for motivating, encouraging and showing the volunteer members of county boards how to meet the targets set out in the strategic plan.
Therefore the basic scenario we are faced with is this: it’s okay to employ full-time administrators to raise the standards of volunteer administrators. However, it’s not okay to employ full-time managers to raise the standards of volunteer footballers.
Can someone explain what is the major difference? The amateur ethos argument doesn’t wash. If the GAA was strictly amateur, no one would get paid a shilling.
Furthermore, consider the reasons which are used to justify employing full-time administrators: it’s too heavy a workload for a volunteer; no-one is willing do it for nothing; and the GAA benefits from the expertise of a professional.
The same arguments also apply to football and hurling managers. In some clubs and counties, it’s simply impossible to find an individual who will dedicate 20 to 40 hours a week free of charge.
In other cases, clubs and counties realise that their players and teams will benefit from the input of a qualified and respected coach, who requires payment. In many instances, it has proved to be money well spent.
Think of the example where a club has gone through its quota of managers who are members of that club. They are good, well-intentioned men, who nevertheless lack the know-how of a trained coach.
Under a proper coach, a fresh voice who costs a few quid, training sessions are properly structured. Players are stimulated by learning new techniques and derive greater enjoyment from playing in a team that has been trained properly.
If a paid manager can keep players involved in the game, if he can improve the standards of play, if he can provide an example of best practice for others at the club to follow, then why is it a considered a breach of the rules to employ someone who can produce such benefits?
Of course, for every top-class paid manager, there are half-a-dozen charlatans who are merely in it for the easy cash.
Again, the exact same argument can be levelled at the GAA’s full-time administrators and coaching officers – a professional body that has its fair share of premium class phoneys and bluffers.
Apart from being wholly inconsistent with its own rules, there are other reasons why the GAA should legitimise the payment of managers.
For starters, all the attempts to police or monitor the illicit payment of managers have proved utterly futile. And because the behaviour is considered a breach of the rules, it has led to solid GAA members engaging in all manner of dodgy book-keeping and other forms of shifty dealing in order to mask these tax-free hand-outs.
This is an unnecessary imposition on men who would otherwise be fairly law-abiding individuals.
The ban on paying managers has also cast an unnecessary cloud over hundreds of fine and upstanding members of the GAA.
Yes, we can all think of the shameless mercenaries. But there are also countless examples of quality gaels who are somehow deemed to have compromised their integrity by accepting payment for their sought-after services.
Again, this shouldn’t be the case, particularly when you can think of individuals who have devoted their lives to coaching children and adults free of charge. Why shouldn’t they be allowed to profit from their professional expertise?
The GAA has accepted that is requires the employment of full-time administrators and coaches in order to meet the challenges that it faces in promoting the game and dealing with the competition from rival codes.
It’s high time that the Association recognised the necessity of paid managers, who, like full-time administrators, are merely trying to raise the standards of the volunteers around them.
The bucks, however, must stop there.
Is it time to take a long hard look at yourself?
Against the Breeze
By Paddy Heaney
First Published 06/01/09
HAS the GAA taken over your life? Does your husband spend several nights a week knocking on strangers’ doors, asking them to buy tickets? Does your daughter fancy Pat Spillane? If so, you, or a member of your family, might have a problem.
While the booze and gambling are the nation’s most publicised addictions, the GAA has become the hidden drug.
It’s the scourge that no-one wants to speak about.
But once again, Against The Breeze is prepared to break the silence on the private misery inflicted on those who are drowning in a tsunami wave of committee meetings, lotto tickets, bibs, balls, coaching forums, dinner dances, discussion boards and more.
The survey below has been designed to assess the extent of your obsession with Cumann Luthchleas Gael. Read the questions, answer them honestly, and then discover the extent of your addiction. And remember, denial is the first obstacle to recovery.
1) It’s a Sunday night. You are on the armchair waiting for the start of The Sunday Game. When the theme tune starts, you...
A) ‘Sing’ along enthusiastically and occasionally punch the air with euphoria. The music gives you a great sense of elation. It moves through your very fibre, providing you with a sense of warmth and belonging.
B) Enjoy the tune, and occasionally tap your toe. You experience a tingle of excitement about what lies in store.
C) Are not sure what the theme tune sounds like.
2) A close relation has just had a baby boy. You are asked to suggest some names. When mulling over options, you...
A) Consider how the name will sound when roared at full volume from a terrace, eg. GO ON FINBARR THE BOY-YA.
B) Toy with the names of some of the past and present greats of the game, eg. Jacko, Micko, Ant’nay, Willie Joe, Jimmy Barry, Plunkett, and Sambo.
C) Only think about options that suit the family’s surname.
3) You are at a big county Championship game. The band is playing the National Anthem. As the tune approaches the dip before the final crescendo, you...
A) Get overcome by excitement and let out an almighty gowl that makes no real sense.
B) Wait until the first gulpin has let a gulder out of him, then join the chorus of shouts.
C) Clap politely when the band has finished playing before politely taking your seat.
4) You are at a wedding reception. On your left is a lady who knows absolutely nothing about the GAA. You...
A) Ignore her completely and talk to the person on your right.
B) Talk to her about the GAA anyway.
C) Strike up a conversation with her about a shared interest.
5) Which statement best describes your dress behaviour in relation to GAA clothing?
A) My entire wardrobe consists of football jerseys and tracksuits which I wear to all functions including wakes, masses, and dates.
B) I really should know better, but I still squeeze into a county jersey when I go to watch Championship games.
C) I don’t wear GAA apparel, but I would buy a coloured braid on match-days.
6) Your county team has just been beaten in a close Championship game. You are incensed by a refereeing decision which had a mammoth bearing on the final result. You...
A) Practically chew the headrest to pieces while delivering a frenzied rant on the journey home. On your return, you huff and refuse to watch The Sunday Game, but instead post a lengthy rant on a GAA message board.
B) Experience a seething anger but refuse to allow emotion to dictate your behaviour
C) Forget about it all over a few post-match convivial pints.
7) When looking for a future spouse, which factors would be foremost in your mind?
A) The footballing pedigree of the family bloodline that you seek to join in holy matrimony.
B) How their physical and mental attributes are suited to playing the game, e.g. hand/eye coordination, supple, determined.
C) Attractive, nice bum, well-mannered.
8) A very important Championship game clashes with a function that will celebrate the 25th wedding anniversary of your mother – and father-in-law. You...
A) Send your apologies.
B) Take your spouse out to dinner and try and arrange some type of accommodation that allows you to attend the game.
C) Do what you’re told.
9) When planning your holidays, the first thing you do is...
A) Check all possible GAA fixture clashes (You tend to go abroad in November).
B) Consult your partner/spouse.
C) Choose a date and destination that suits your work and your nearest and dearest.
10) How many of these statements do you understand?
1) She is dinner dance material;
2) Fergal is great with the women so when we go out to clubs he does the talking and I just feed off the breaking ball;
3) I’ve no money so I had to get a hand pass off my da.
A) All three
B) Two
C) One
Now Work Out Your Total.
Add up the number of times you chose each letter then see below to find out what the results say about you.
Mainly As: Chronic GAA Junkie
You are a hopeless case. Therapy offers no remedy. You have gone beyond curing and there is no chance of you being able to function properly in a normal society.
The good news is that we don’t live in a normal society and you are probably as carefree and satisfied as a member of Club Tyrone. The same, however, cannot be said for your long-suffering spouse, but then again, s/he is the least of your worries.
Mainly Bs: Limbo Addict
Caution must be your new watchword. You are like a man playing football on a frozen pitch. A severe injury could lie ahead. So far, you’ve been able to disguise your closet mania through a mixture of cunning and deceit. But you must be careful.
If you joined the wrong company, or fell prey to your innermost desires, then there is a strong possibility that you could soon find yourself selling tickets for a ‘Grand Draw’.
Mainly Cs: Abnormally Normal
What is wrong with you? Why are you even reading this column? Your problem is that you don’t have a problem. You are an emotionally stable and centred person and therefore make up a tiny portion of this country’s population. Not surprisingly, you often experience feelings of aching loneliness and isolation. You are probably spending too much time with your wife and children.
It’s high time you got more involved with the club. Coach a team. Sell a few tickets. Join a committee. It’s the only way.
By Paddy Heaney
First Published 06/01/09
HAS the GAA taken over your life? Does your husband spend several nights a week knocking on strangers’ doors, asking them to buy tickets? Does your daughter fancy Pat Spillane? If so, you, or a member of your family, might have a problem.
While the booze and gambling are the nation’s most publicised addictions, the GAA has become the hidden drug.
It’s the scourge that no-one wants to speak about.
But once again, Against The Breeze is prepared to break the silence on the private misery inflicted on those who are drowning in a tsunami wave of committee meetings, lotto tickets, bibs, balls, coaching forums, dinner dances, discussion boards and more.
The survey below has been designed to assess the extent of your obsession with Cumann Luthchleas Gael. Read the questions, answer them honestly, and then discover the extent of your addiction. And remember, denial is the first obstacle to recovery.
1) It’s a Sunday night. You are on the armchair waiting for the start of The Sunday Game. When the theme tune starts, you...
A) ‘Sing’ along enthusiastically and occasionally punch the air with euphoria. The music gives you a great sense of elation. It moves through your very fibre, providing you with a sense of warmth and belonging.
B) Enjoy the tune, and occasionally tap your toe. You experience a tingle of excitement about what lies in store.
C) Are not sure what the theme tune sounds like.
2) A close relation has just had a baby boy. You are asked to suggest some names. When mulling over options, you...
A) Consider how the name will sound when roared at full volume from a terrace, eg. GO ON FINBARR THE BOY-YA.
B) Toy with the names of some of the past and present greats of the game, eg. Jacko, Micko, Ant’nay, Willie Joe, Jimmy Barry, Plunkett, and Sambo.
C) Only think about options that suit the family’s surname.
3) You are at a big county Championship game. The band is playing the National Anthem. As the tune approaches the dip before the final crescendo, you...
A) Get overcome by excitement and let out an almighty gowl that makes no real sense.
B) Wait until the first gulpin has let a gulder out of him, then join the chorus of shouts.
C) Clap politely when the band has finished playing before politely taking your seat.
4) You are at a wedding reception. On your left is a lady who knows absolutely nothing about the GAA. You...
A) Ignore her completely and talk to the person on your right.
B) Talk to her about the GAA anyway.
C) Strike up a conversation with her about a shared interest.
5) Which statement best describes your dress behaviour in relation to GAA clothing?
A) My entire wardrobe consists of football jerseys and tracksuits which I wear to all functions including wakes, masses, and dates.
B) I really should know better, but I still squeeze into a county jersey when I go to watch Championship games.
C) I don’t wear GAA apparel, but I would buy a coloured braid on match-days.
6) Your county team has just been beaten in a close Championship game. You are incensed by a refereeing decision which had a mammoth bearing on the final result. You...
A) Practically chew the headrest to pieces while delivering a frenzied rant on the journey home. On your return, you huff and refuse to watch The Sunday Game, but instead post a lengthy rant on a GAA message board.
B) Experience a seething anger but refuse to allow emotion to dictate your behaviour
C) Forget about it all over a few post-match convivial pints.
7) When looking for a future spouse, which factors would be foremost in your mind?
A) The footballing pedigree of the family bloodline that you seek to join in holy matrimony.
B) How their physical and mental attributes are suited to playing the game, e.g. hand/eye coordination, supple, determined.
C) Attractive, nice bum, well-mannered.
8) A very important Championship game clashes with a function that will celebrate the 25th wedding anniversary of your mother – and father-in-law. You...
A) Send your apologies.
B) Take your spouse out to dinner and try and arrange some type of accommodation that allows you to attend the game.
C) Do what you’re told.
9) When planning your holidays, the first thing you do is...
A) Check all possible GAA fixture clashes (You tend to go abroad in November).
B) Consult your partner/spouse.
C) Choose a date and destination that suits your work and your nearest and dearest.
10) How many of these statements do you understand?
1) She is dinner dance material;
2) Fergal is great with the women so when we go out to clubs he does the talking and I just feed off the breaking ball;
3) I’ve no money so I had to get a hand pass off my da.
A) All three
B) Two
C) One
Now Work Out Your Total.
Add up the number of times you chose each letter then see below to find out what the results say about you.
Mainly As: Chronic GAA Junkie
You are a hopeless case. Therapy offers no remedy. You have gone beyond curing and there is no chance of you being able to function properly in a normal society.
The good news is that we don’t live in a normal society and you are probably as carefree and satisfied as a member of Club Tyrone. The same, however, cannot be said for your long-suffering spouse, but then again, s/he is the least of your worries.
Mainly Bs: Limbo Addict
Caution must be your new watchword. You are like a man playing football on a frozen pitch. A severe injury could lie ahead. So far, you’ve been able to disguise your closet mania through a mixture of cunning and deceit. But you must be careful.
If you joined the wrong company, or fell prey to your innermost desires, then there is a strong possibility that you could soon find yourself selling tickets for a ‘Grand Draw’.
Mainly Cs: Abnormally Normal
What is wrong with you? Why are you even reading this column? Your problem is that you don’t have a problem. You are an emotionally stable and centred person and therefore make up a tiny portion of this country’s population. Not surprisingly, you often experience feelings of aching loneliness and isolation. You are probably spending too much time with your wife and children.
It’s high time you got more involved with the club. Coach a team. Sell a few tickets. Join a committee. It’s the only way.
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