Oval code shedding its gin and tonic image

THE old lady flung him a withering look. “Sir,” she hissed, “if you were my husband, I would poison your tea.” Winston Churchill did not miss a beat.

"Madam," he replied, "if you were my wife, I would drink it."

Ah, pompous old ladies, how we love them.

The 'Old Lady of D'Olier Street', the Irish Times to you and I, was busy rattling her jewellery this week.

First, we had John Waters ranting on radio about the way he and his fellow IT journalists are treated by their employers.

Now, I do not know Waters, we are not invited to the same parties, but if we were ever to go camping together I would take steps to avoid the traditional campfire chats.

"Sorry John I'm bushed, look, you can have the last sausage, I'm off to my tent."

"But, it's only seven o'clock, I was just about to explain how the inner turmoil of the Irish male is directly related to Dana's Eurovision win."

"Night John boy."

It's not that there was no merit to his rant this week, it was the way he delivered it.

This pompous belief that just because you write in the paper it gives you some sort of

special standing. It's just another job. As I'm sure John has discovered, "Do you know who I am?" never works with nightclub bouncers.

Then we had Tom Humphries (genuflect when you hear his name) smugly telling us why rugby was a complete waste of time.

Mr Humphries (on your knees) is a talented writer but also seems to have been struck down by a dose of doyouknowwhoiamitis.

He is a soccer and GAA man and the fact that the Rugby World Cup has been dominating the media these past few weeks seems to have galled him immeasurably.

Under the headline: "The world just isn't interested in rugby", TH pontificated from his pulpit, hiding behind TV viewing figures as an explanation why nobody really gives a fig about what is happening Down Under.

Underpinning this opinion, is the belief that rugby remains an elitist game, played by public schoolboys and watched by rich, portly men in sheepskin jackets. Soccer and GAA, by contrast, are the 'games of the people'.

Certainly, rugby does have those elements in its history but if Humphries could have seen the thousands of Irish fans in Melbourne, observed the multitude of GAA county jerseys and Irish soccer shirts milling about, and conversed with the many fans who had no in-depth knowledge of rugby but loved supporting the Irish rugby team, perhaps then his views would be less dogmatic and patronising.

"The adventures of the provinces have kept the sheepskins grinning," he wrote, "even though we stand alone among the big nations as still playing our home games in a semi-derelict stadium."

Ah but Tom, surely the reason Irish rugby is housed in such squalor is because your beloved GAA refuses to open the doors of Croke Park to 'foreign' games, despite the fact that the stadium was redeveloped with a large chunk of taxpayers' money.

HOWEVER, Humphries was not alone in attacking the oval code this week. The break in Premier ship football for international fixtures led to an 'attack of the clones', as a host of soccer writers poured scorn on the sport that was drawing so much attention away from their fixation.

Nick Hornby has a lot to answer for.

'Fever Pitch', his superb account of a life following Arsenal has led to an epidemic of inferior imitators, each trying to outdo the other in the extent of their devotion to their club. Yawn.

They dismiss rugby as 'egg-chasing', a mildly amusing phrase when first conceived but now as diverting as a night in playing Trivial Pursuit with Wayne Rooney. Every sport, with the possible exception of hurling, has its flaws but rugby has come a long way in the past decade.

It is slowly shedding the 'gin and tonic' image and is encroaching into areas hitherto dominated by soccer and GAA, which goes some way to explaining the vitriol it elicits in response.

The physicality of the game promotes courage and also the team ethic, for if you do not back each other up somebody could get hurt.

And yet, for such a confrontational sport, it does not suffer from violence off the pitch, none of the hooliganism of soccer nor the attacks on referees and coaches that trouble the GAA.

Rugby is a wonderful game to play, and to watch, and the non-afficianados who tune into tomorrow's World Cup final may just be in for a pleasant surprise.

So, perhaps it is childish to get involved in a 'my game is better than yours' spat but, hey, they started it.