Rise and fall of Mayo men proves sport and politics should never mix
On more than one occasion we heard various FG spokespersons on radio being invited to liken their leader, Enda Kenny, to Justin McCarthy, embattled Limerick hurling manager.
The parallels were clear, according to the political pundits: here you had a figurehead who couldn’t get his best players out on the field of play, and surely in that scenario there was no option open to the man at the top other than to do the honourable thing, etc., etc.
What was interesting from a sports perspective was that these points were usually rebuffed with some prejudice by Phil Hogan of Fine Gael, the politician who was rolled out to put the case for Enda Kenny, and who was inclined to cite Kilkenny manager Brian Cody as a better comparison for Kenny, though quite when Cody has ever had to deal with anything more rebellious than a query about the flavour of the sandwiches after training, we’re not quite sure.
Yesterday as we rolled north to Mallow, Deputy Hogan was on the radio again, and again likening Kenny to Brian Cody, this time pointing out that the Kilkenny boss was not in the habit of changing his team on the bus up to Croke Park.
There was a distantly-related point about the Fine Gael front bench but it was lost on us, frankly.
Maybe Phil was thinking of Fabio Capello.
In some ways those metaphors sustained themselves to their ultimate conclusion.
For instance, though Justin McCarthy was a handy comparison for the pundits, he has actually survived as Limerick boss far longer than anyone thought possible.
Not unlike Enda Kenny, for instance, who was widely regarded as a dead man walking on the same week as the great putsch came to a head.
What was pivotal to his survival, according to those same experts who smoothly assured us of his impending destruction, was a parliamentary party meeting/confrontation with his rebellious front bench, at which Kenny let his opponents know what he thought of them and then ended the meeting before they could retort.
This is more akin to what we all presume about elite sports management, in which, as the late Brian Clough once said, all opinions are aired before the manager’s is accepted as the final word.
Or what Jock Stein referred to as keeping the players who don’t like you away from the players who haven’t made up their minds about you; the ones who like you will look after themselves.
That kind of confrontation has other connotations as well, of course.
After Kenny had retained his position at the crucial meeting, much was made of the ‘Up Mayo’ shouts of his supporters, and comparisons were drawn between his many rural supporters – decoded: GAA – and the urban, not to say urbane, background of his opponents.
There were also suggestions that a background in GAA politics had been no hindrance to the Kenny campaign, the inference being that a lifetime of arranging U13 Gaelic football challenge games is the perfect preparation for national politics.
It’s not, of course, but it is the perfect preparation for international politics, and Ban-Ki Moon could do worse than headhunting talent at the GAA Congress.
The final, decisive chapter in the GAA manager-politician template came on Saturday night when one of Kenny’s supporters, Mayo TD John O’Mahony, resigned as that county’s football coach following their defeat by Longford.
O’Mahony was regarded as the man to bring Mayo to the promised land, but some challenges are just too big to be overcome.
The Mayo situation reminds this observer of a cutting crack about Michael D Higgins and his tendency to storm out of Labour Party meetings on points of obscure principle.
“Typical Michael D,” said one colleague.
“Given the choice between saving the world and saving the Labour Party, he always goes for the easy option.”
*michael.moynihan@examiner.ie Twitter: MikeMoynihanEx
