Feeding off scraps at the height of summer football
Living in a landscape of white, it’s perfectly understandable why they can call on such an extensive vocabulary.
Most tribes can probably claim similar expertise when it comes to describing the environment or culture which dominates their surroundings.
For instance, if Ireland was entering an international game of Mastermind on this particular topic, our specialised subject would be words that describe the experience of becoming intoxicated. Of course, after the first few years no other country would enter this competition because they would quickly realise we could never be beaten in such a quiz.
While the dear old Eskimo might just get drunk, the Irishman can be steaming, smashed, snottered, scootered, sozzled, stocious, or slaughtered.
And that just a few of the s’s.
The volume of adjectives and nouns a particular community has at their disposal to describe a specific phenomenon is highly revealing. It probably says something that GAA reporters have an unfeasibly large vault of words to describe what most normal civilians would just call a ‘fight’.
But it’s dangerous for the GAA hack to be so subjective. ‘Fight’ is too strong, too opinionated, and more often that not, just too close to the truth.
It’s never a ‘fight’. It’s a bust-up, a dust-up, a ruckus, a row, a scuffle, a kerfuffle, an altercation, a battle, a spat, a skirmish, and a tussle. If we’re feeling sophisticated, it can be ‘a melee’. But if diplomacy is required, then it’s ‘a heated exchange’ or ‘a confrontation’.
If we’re Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh, it’s ‘a schmozzle’. If we support one of the offending teams, then it’s ‘only handbags’. And if we didn’t actually see what happened, then it’s usually just ‘an incident’.
What does it say about a game that the men and women who write about it have more words for ‘a brawl’ than Eskimos have for snow? The obvious deduction would be that Gaelic football is a turbulent game where violence is common and the hard man is worshipped.
And while it’s true that there can be ambivalence towards bloodshed, it’s not the conduct which is truly celebrated by lovers of the game.
Examine any list of the most venerated players in the history of the GAA and they all have one thing in common. First and foremost, they are artists. To earn a place among the pantheon of the greats, you need to be a silky, smooth practitioner in the mould of Mikey Sheehy, Matt Connor, Mick O’Connell, Sean O’Neill or Jimmy Barry-Murphy.
Usually, ultra-successful teams in any sport are despised. Yet, the Kerry side of the 70s and 80s was the most feted ever, largely because they brought Gaelic football to new heights.
In a sporting organisation that is riddled with self-interest, it’s incredibly difficult to win the admiration and respect of other counties. But Kerry proved it could be done by playing the game with a certain panache.
The fact is the typical GAA supporter is obsessed with style but only as it pertains to other teams.
The insular demands of parish and county dictates that the fan will tolerate his own team employing any tactics whatsoever as long as they win.
After 19 years without the Anglo-Celt Cup, there was no outcry in Donegal over Jim McGuinness’s defensive tactics. And Meathmen will never make any apologies for some of the atrocities committed by Sean Boylan’s great team.
But, while happy to turn a blind eye to the 13-men standing behind the ball in our own team, we want all the others counties to play with gay abandon. The big dream, the great hope that burns within us all, is that one summer we will witness a constant supply of gripping contests, which will ultimately produce champions which are the credit to the game.
Unfortunately, it’s extremely unlikely that this year is going to be one which will satisfy those desires.
The chances of an aesthetically pleasing Championship are virtually zero.
Once we get to the business end of the summer, it’s not going to be pretty.
Mass defence will be the order of the day.
While Tyrone were superb against some mid-ranking Division Two teams, they looked pretty ordinary against Kildare.
For all the talk about Donegal attacking more, they aren’t going to radically alter a system that brought them to within touching distance of an All-Ireland final.
While Cork don’t adhere to the rigid defensive formula of other teams, their lack of cohesion means they’re like a good engine that has no oil.
Amid all the hoopla around Dublin, it can’t be forgotten that they are a fairly robotic outfit that sticks to a rigid script.
Even Kerry aren’t what they were. More pertinently again, their chief entertainer, Colm Cooper, no longer appears to be at the peak of his powers.
Anyone hoping for a summer-long festival of football should lower their expectations.
That’s not to say that it won’t be enjoyable. There will be excitement, drama, controversy, some moments of brilliance and some brilliant games.
And, if we’re really lucky, there might even be the odd scrap.
* paddy.heaney@irishnews.com
