Tech-savvy new kids on the block making it cool to be GAA
Why? Simple.Because at least nine players were sporting earphones. I counted them as they strode towards the clubhouse in that aloof manner so beloved ofprofessional footballers — the white iPod cord falling loosely from their ears.
It was all a bit too Premiership for my liking. Back in the day, we used to talk to each other on trips to games. It was part of the craic.
Today’s players behave differently. The journey from Omagh to Creggan is about 50 miles — an hour by bus. But what does it say about young club players when they have to detach themselves from each other so they can listen to their tunes? Before the ball was even thrown in, I had it all worked out. Omagh, the trendy townies, were going to lose to their hardy country cousins from Cullyhanna. Omagh were just ‘too cool for school’.
And like our old maths teachers might say, cool into the GAA — just doesn’t go.
Like many of my pre-match predictions, my verdict on Omagh was completely wrong. In a thrilling contest in which Cullyhanna pushed Omagh to their absolute limit, the Tyrone lads displayed buckets of character to triumph by a point.
Afterwards, the manner of Omagh’s gutsy display forced me to analyse my initial misgivings about them.
Evidently, my prejudices were inherently flawed.
Having observed a behaviour pattern that looked modern and in sync with popular culture, I had decided that it had no place in the GAA — the home of traditional values.
But I was mistaken. Clearly, ‘iPod’ doesn’t mean ‘iSoft’.
I am reliably informed that changing tastes and moving with fashions is all part and parcel of the experience of growing up. I missed that phase. Naturally enough, I’ve always felt at home in the GAA — a castle for the uncool.
It’s not that long ago that a player who wore his jersey over his shorts was considered something of a rebel. The GAA is probably the only institution in the world where a man who had minimal interest in his personal appearance ended up becoming a style icon. Jimmy Barry-Murphy caused a sensation when he emerged on the scene with a cropped head of hair while everyone around him looked like either Francis Rossi or Phil Lynott.
A friend of JBM recently informed me that rather than being on the cutting edge of hairstyles, the Cork legend was so out-of-touch with what was in vogue that he just went into the barber and asked for a short-back-and-sides. And hey presto! The GAA’s first rock star was born. The marketing gurus in the commercial world have never been in any doubt that the GAA was essentially a sporting organisation for men who drank Guinness, listened to Christy Moore, and protected their calves against scour with Leo Yellow. Given the hundreds of thousands of euros which companies plough into studying their target markets, the corporate sector is never that far off the mark.
It is surely no coincidence that until very recently Toyota was the official car of the GAA. Toyota was for people who were willing to put function over form, reliability over appearance. The Carina was the GAA’s number one automobile. Loved by farmers for a boot that fitted three bales, and taxi-drivers for their longevity. But the times are changing. The GAA is changing.
Players are no longer restricted by the reserved social mores of their forefathers. Dyed hair. White boots. Fake tan. Tattoos. It’s all par for the course nowadays. The monastic silence has also gone. Players happily provide updates about what they are doing via Twitter.
Dick Clerkin is looking for a new motor. Paddy Bradley is doing tabata interval training sessions in the morning. And when mixing his breakfast cereals former Cork star Diarmuid O’Sullivan recently revealed that he “was on an All Bran and Crunchy Nut Cornflakes buzz for most of last year.”
Paul Galvin is the apogee of the new generation. He has the skinny jeans, the tattoos and a fashion column plus four All-Ireland medals and a Footballer of the Year award. A few weeks ago Paul Galvin asked his Twitter followers what tunes they were listening to thatmorning. Galvin let us know that he had Frank Ocean and Skrillex ‘beatin only aiiiiiight’.
I had to read the tweet three times before I could make any sense of it.
More tellingly, the corporate world have clearly made sense of it. They’ve spotted the shifting face of the GAA. Audi had been looking for an avenue into the GAA. But the image-conscious German car company didn’t want to sign up to a standard sponsorship agreement. Fearful that their cars might be branded alongside fertilisers, beer and dodgy Irish banks — Audi was reluctant to make the jump.
Then a few weeks ago, Paul Galvin announced via Twitter that he had just taken delivery of his brand new Audi.
So, as I suspected. It’s official: the GAA is cool.
Even the Germans think so.
