Don’t let ego get in way of tackling violence

Last Friday night on The Late Late Show, Eamon Dunphy was asked his opinion on the scenes witnessed at the Dromid Pearses v Derrytresk game.

Dunphy was flippant.

He made the point that he had lived in Castlehaven for a period in the 1990s when the local side’s rivalry with Skibbereen was at its height. After Ryan Tubridy played a recording of the action from the game, Dunphy explained that such scenes were commonplace at Skibb v Haven games “back in the day”.

Clearly, Dunphy was indulging his ego here. We have seen this before. An individual plays the hard man by poo pooing what are clearly violent and nonsensical scenes. This allows one to act tough and appear tough, just by association. Dunphy’s suggestion was, of course, misrepresented.

I would hazard a guess of having as good a memory as Dunphy of those games between Skibb and Castlehaven. I actually attended all of them. I remember the games being extremely physical and combative. Some dirty strokes were pulled, at times. None were that bad.

For years after, however, players and supporters on both sides did a kind of one-upmanship whereby each story relayed a more unimaginable offence than the previous one.

Going further, Dunphy made the point that he had seen even worse growing up, following St Vincent’s of Dublin in his early years. He was on a roll.

If allowed to go further, Dunphy might even have revealed his location under the mast in the GPO, circa 1916.

If we are honest, we see this happening in many sports discussions. This egocentric notion whereby people, often with an underlying doubt regarding their own manliness, try to elevate their personal experiences of toughness to unimaginable levels, and then flippantly dismiss them as par for the course. A kind of ‘Shur, that was nothing new to me’ syndrome.

I have nothing against Dunphy personally. As I remember it, he was a popular figure in West Cork at that time, and in general, the debate and dialogue he sparks is addictive to watch and listen to. What happened on The Late Late Show is that he was simply cajoled into a very human indulgence.

In the past week, much dialogue on the GAA crowd/spectator violence issue has leaned towards Dunphy’s side of the fence. Some have put it in print, while many more have adopted the pseudo hard man stance at watercoolers and bar stools all over the country… ‘shur, it was a thing of nothing, as far as I’m concerned, I’ve seen way worse down my local club hundreds of times’. The thing is that none of these people really have. Those scenes in the Dromid versus Derrytresk game were as bad as what you will see anywhere.

What’s worse is that the trend appears to be increasing.

Just a few months ago, a match between Dromore and Carrickmore in Tyrone ended in similar scenes. Before that, it was Rasharkin and Lamh Dhearg in Antrim.

Much of the noises coming from these clubs afterwards centred on dissatisfaction with the respective penalties imposed and blame was shifted between the opposing teams. There was no collective admission of a problem, and no admonishing of their own roles in the episode.

Honesty, a concept that all GAA teams and clubs have prided themselves on, was not convenient in such a firestorm. After all, in the aftermath of the fight, it’s important to come out fighting!

Ulster council delegate Pat Darcy has warned other counties to stop pointing the finger of blame at his native province.

Darcy’s argument centred around seeing something worse in another game (Tadhg Kennelly’s clash with Nicholas Murphy in the 2009 All-Ireland final). It would be very easy to get into an argument as to why that incident was, or was not. worse but that would miss the point. Much like the offending clubs, admission of guilt played no part.

In 2008, I was sent off in the final league game for Cork against Armagh up in Crossmaglen. My mea culpa moment arrived with 10 minutes to go. We had met fire with fire all day and, in my case, a straight red was deserved, as was my opponent’s.

In Crossmaglen, much like many grounds around the country, the subs sit in the first few rows of the stands. As the steward escorted me off, both the steward and I came to the realisation that the stand was, for me, now a no go area. With a volley of abuse growing louder by the second I can honestly say I was frightened. In open contravention of the rule book, I was steered to the dugout. I watched the remainder of the game inside the fence and away from harm.

My parents had attended this game and prior to throw in, the people could not have been nicer. Hospitality was extended to away supporters wherever they went in and around the grounds. Once the ball was thrown in, it became a very different story. Mob mentality simmered for the duration and appeared ready to explode at any given moment.

Thinking back, I was thankful that my parents are not vocal at matches. I would not have felt that they were safe. That is not something I ever had to worry about at GAA matches before.

Ironically, they had been to one other game in the North previously. This was in 1993, when Skibbereen played Lavey of Derry in the 1993 All-Ireland Club semi-final. I was also at this game. Three Lavey men were sent off in what was a ferociously violent game. On that occasion, we were all shocked at the bite and the potential danger in the stands. Unlike Dunphy’s recollection of the Castlehaven v Skibb games, people from Skibbereen will remember this match in Lavey as being far more similar to the Dromid-Derrytresk incident.

Pat Darcy maintains that the escalation of violent incidents is a countrywide epidemic and then went on to refer to soccer matches in Belfast and Portadown.

If ‘get your own house in order’ is the mandate, then Darcy should begin his inward reflection.