Some traditions are just not worth clinging on to
From when the first group left Maghera at 8.30am until the last man rode into Downings at around 5pm, the June monsoon never stopped.
After the long pilgrimage from south Derry, the Downings club room was like a harbour in the storm.
When the cyclists who were doing the second leg reassembled at Downings on Sunday morning, we discovered that we weren’t the only people using the club’s facilities.
At 10am, the All-Ireland football champions were already in full training mode on the pitch. Having stayed the night at the nearby Rosapenna hotel, the Donegal squad could walk from their four-star lodgings to the field. After training for three hours the previous day, it was noticeable that it was still a pretty taxing session.
While we were getting prepared, a lone cyclist pedalled into the car park. Even in a cycling helmet, Neil Gallagher’s chiselled jaw-line and 6ft 3ins frame makes him easily recognisable. The All Star midfielder stopped and chatted.
Unable to train with the team due to a knee injury, Gallagher had been out on his bike for 70 minutes.
Curious to find out why a club from Derry had moved en masse to Downings, Gallagher enquired about our bike ride.
After he moved on, my friend praised Gallagher as he was impressed by his friendliness and down-to-earth manner.
Unfortunately, not all the members of our club will retain such positive memories of their chance encounter with the All-Ireland champions.
Given that the Downings pitch is located at the side of the road which leads into the village, it’s possible to watch proceeding from a public path that looks onto the field.
Naturally enough, one of our underage coaches, who is a PE teacher, was keen to get a closer look at the best team in the country so he cycled up the road to watch the session from the public path.
Bear in mind that it was possible to observe everything from the car park and that there was nothing overly complex about the session that was being conducted.
Nevertheless, a member of Donegal’s management team took exception to the presence of the two-wheeled observer, who was politely instructed to go away.
Rather than asserting his right to stand on a public path, our underage coach, who is an easy-going character, returned to the club where he was able to watch the session, albeit from a different vantage point. Considering the hospitality and sense of fellowship our club had experienced in Downings, the news of one GAA man telling another GAA man to basically clear off jarred with everything else that had taken place over the weekend.
Of course, it is easy to understand why inter-county managers want to hold ‘in camera’ training sessions and ‘closed door’ challenge matches. But surely if Donegal want such privacy, then training on a pitch that is located at the side of a road in a beachside tourist resort isn’t the best idea?
Unfortunately, as the preparation of teams becomes increasingly more professional, the levels of paranoia and secrecy have risen in tandem.
Kerry were the latest to join to ‘the Greta Garbo movement’ when Eamon Fitzmaurice locked the gates of Fitzgerald Stadium and banned the people of Killarney from watching their county’s training sessions.
Maybe we will just have to accept that these changes are part and parcel of the modern game. But some discretion is also required.
It’s just a pity that the GAA can cling fervently to all the wrong traditions. For example, following this year’s provincial championship, the Ulster Council will surely have to reconsider its fixture-making policy.
The custom of granting home advantage to the first team out of the hat needs to be reviewed.
The first round match between Tyrone and Donegal could have drawn a crowd of 30,000. Holding the match in Ballybofey restricted the attendance to 17,519.
And last Sunday the security cordon that was thrown around Brewster Park for the G8 Summit also had a negative impact at the turnstiles as only 9,352 watched the clash in Enniskillen.
The Ulster Council have stated that attendances have risen from last year, but such statistics provide little comfort to the clubs and counties who are seeking capital grants from the provincial body.
Before winning last year’s All-Ireland club hurling title, Loughgiel trained at Dunloy’s indoor pitch. Croke Park provided funding for this fantastic facility as they believed it would help develop hurling in North Antrim.
The Ulster Council were unable to spare a penny. Of the funding provided for Tyrone’s training complex at Garvaghey it was notable that the Ulster Council’s donation lagged behind Croke Park (24%), the Department of Rural Development (13%), and the North’s Department of Culture, Arts and Leisure (7%). The Ulster Council (5%) only gave marginally more than the local councils (3%). When analysing their contribution to capital projects, the Ulster Council clearly can’t afford to thumb their nose at extra revenue-making opportunities. An additional 10,000 at the gate for the Tyrone and Donegal clash could have netted an extra £200,000.
On entering Casement Park a fortnight ago, tickets were being sold for Antrim’s new centre of excellence. An injection of £200,000 would be a real boost to that project.
Unless they are willing to shelve old habits, the Ulster Council will be forced to pick venues that make no economic sense.
While there are some old traditions that will be missed, there are still a few that could be done without.
