Irish Examiner view: Sport full of plot twists on and off the field 

We must be vigilant as politics increasingly encroaches into the sporting arena

Peter O'Mahony of Ireland breaks past New Zealand's Aidan Ross during the Steinlager Series match in Dunedin, New Zealand. Picture: Brendan Moran/Sportsfile

Just last weekend, we were wondering whether there was some cunning Northern Hemisphere plot on the rugby fields to lull the big beasts of New Zealand, South Africa, and Australia into a false sense of security ahead of the World Cup.

Three clashes with leading lights of our Six Nations tournament led to three defeats at the hands and boots of the southerners.

What a difference a week makes and, in the case of Ireland, the result in Dunedin was a historic first triumph in the Land of the Long White Cloud and a moment of huge pride for the players, the touring party, and all supporters.

Ireland first took on the All Blacks in 1905, at Lansdowne Road in Dublin. That epochal tour introduced us to the New Zealand way of rugby (they won 0-15). Our first game there was at the long-since-closed Athletic Park, in Wellington, in 1976. Despite one or two close results (24-21, also in Dunedin, in 1992; and 22-19 in Christchurch in 2012), we have never before enjoyed the sweet taste of victory in their home, and we must savour it while we can. The series decider takes place in Wellington next weekend.

Those who enjoy omens might note that ‘Windy’ Wellington shares a soubriquet with Chicago. It was in ‘The Windy City’, at Soldier Field, that Ireland achieved its first victory against the All Blacks in 111 years by defeating them 40-29 on November 5, 2016.

Across the Tasman Sea, England are engaged in their own series of thunderous encounters, with the Wallabies, and their match in Brisbane this weekend underlined the ever-increasing ubiquity of the political symbolism in sport.

Australia's Samu Kerevi gets past England's Ollie Chessum on his way to scoring a try during their rugby union match. Picture: Tertius Pickard/AP

The encounter took place during what is now known as Naidoc week, under the auspices of the National Aborigines and (Torres Strait) Islanders’ Day Observance Committee. The home side wore a specially designed First Nations jersey, entered the field to the rhythmic beat of Aboriginal clapsticks, and sang the national anthem — ‘Advance Australia Fair’ — in the indigenous Yugambeh language.

Not that we have to look thousands of miles away to see the increasing utilisation of sport to reinforce a message. At Wimbledon, where the authorities were prepared to reduce their tournament to an ‘exhibition’ by banning players from Russia and Belarus, they achieved the worst of all possible results when Kate Middleton, the duchess of Cambridge and future queen of England, was obliged to hand over the trophy for the women’s competition to Elena Rybakina, a player born, coached, educated, and resident in Moscow, who switched her tennis allegiance to Kazakhstan in 2018. She also carries off a cheque for €2.3m.

Kate Middleton presents the Venus Rosewater Dish to Elena Rybakina at Wimbleton.

Not that this embarrassing fiasco — Russian flag-wavers and tub-thumpers were quick to exploit its propaganda value — is the only problem Wimbledon has had. During his run to the men’s final, it emerged that Nick Kyrgios faces an assault charge in his native Australia over a December incident in which he allegedly grabbed his then-girlfriend. Prosecutors will decide whether to pursue the case, which carries a maximum sentence of two years, at a hearing next month.

In Scotland, the Royal and Ancient (R&A) celebration of 150 years of the golf Open Championship has been marred by the absence of Phil Mickelson, the oldest major winner in history, and Greg Norman, the ‘Great White Shark’, who has become the grey eminence of the controversial Saudi Arabian-backed LIV Series. The R&A told Norman, twice winner of the Open, that his presence at St Andrews would be “an unwelcome distraction”.

Bill Shankly, the former Liverpool manager, once said that “football is a simple game made complicated by people who should know better”. We must be vigilant to ensure that politicians, corporations, marketeers, bureaucrats, agents, and the like do not conspire to turn complexity, and their own agendas, into sport’s epitaph.