Opportunity knocks as sport stars open doors
The big yellow doors under Croke Park for the rugby internationals, and the All-Ireland club finals on St Patrick’s Day, for instance, which eventually disgorged a few players to throw out some pearls of wisdom.
Those plush portals in the Emirates which performed the same function earlier this week, after the Ireland-Brazil game.
The blue doors up in Pearse Stadium Salthill last week, where we waited for John McIntyre and Davy Fitzgerald after Galway beat Waterford in the national hurling league.
Access, access, access: it just keeps getting tighter.
A couple of weeks ago Liam Mackey of this parish bemoaned the fact that media representatives may no longer be permitted fly on the same plane as the Irish team to away games.
It wasn’t out of any wish to be nearer the players but for housekeeping purposes – getting a few words with players can be tricky enough at the best of times, but informal press conferences can be put together on the hoof, and if you’re on a different flight, then obviously it’s harder to be present, when the word ‘harder’ is a synonym for ‘impossible’.
Don’t blow out your cheeks and roll your eyes at a journalist’s whingeing just yet. This affects you as well.
The sanitisation of reactions from elite sportspeople is something that’s unfortunate for everybody. Having antiseptic encounters on pre-agreed terms doesn’t do anybody any favours; minimising the post-game encounter to a few snatched words isn’t much better.
That goes for the sportsmen too.
Granted, there are realities involved. Not every sportsman is a model of eloquence (no reason why they should be; after all, not every sportswriter is).
Some have bad experiences with the media which drive their antipathy. That’s entirely natural as well. But you’d think that most sportsmen who are committed enough to get to the top of their sport have a visceral attachment to that code, and a wish to see that sport promoted to the fullest.
Talking about the game just gone, or the one to come, would help that promotion. That isn’t disingenuous. If you want the proof of what happens when a sportsman goes to the opposite extreme then look at the most extreme case of restricted access you can find; Tiger Woods.
The golfer dithered for days after his initial difficulty, that late-night encounter with a fire hydrant in Florida, and sought to maintain control over the issue to the last – witness the press conference last month in the PGA headquarters.
The astute among you could cite the hounding Woods got as an argument against media co-operation, and you have a point. Certainly there was a whiff of payback from quite a few sanctimonious media attacks on the golfer.
But it couldn’t have helped Woods to cut himself off from even the mildest questioning for years. He dictated the terms of engagement with the media for years and in return, his carefully choreographed public apology was boycotted by the Golf Writers Association of America.
Thankfully not all sportspeople have Woods’ attitude. If they did, they’d hardly be encouraging anyone to follow in their footsteps.
Most rugby and GAA players are reasonable and realistic about talking to the media, as are most managers in those codes – Brian Cody, for instance, is on record as favouring the informal press conference outside the dressing-room door over the tiered seating in Croke Park’s press zone. The professional rugby players we’ve had to deal with are as accommodating as you would want.
Even the game of golf has its heroes: Pádraig Harrington must be the most-available superstar in the world of sport. This from someone who told Harrington in his own home that he had no interest in golf.
The embarrassment kicked in as a deep, persistent, warming glow all the way home on the train, don’t worry. Maybe that was one time the door should have been kept shut. To protect ourselves.
Contact: michael.moynihan@examiner.ie; Twitter: MikeMoynihanEx
