You can bet on one thing...
In another week of heavyweight sporting contests, there was no mistaking the match-up that topped the bill; the battle between ‘the bookies’ and ‘the punters’.
There were other lesser sideshows on the radar. ‘The Irish’ versus ‘The English’ at Cheltenham, spearheaded by our great countries’ spiritual leaders Hector Ó hEochagáin and Phil Tufnell, drew some interest.
But, as Michael O’Leary daintily put it, when somebody gave him some guff about the ‘raiding party’, “That Irish, British thing is a fucking load of nonsense, who cares?”
We had emotional human interest fairytales to process too; as we invested ourselves in the everyday hopes and dreams of owners like O’Leary and Rich Ricci and JP McManus and Graham Wylie. Just as we will soon chair that old dreamer Roman Abramovich back into the winner’s enclosure in the Premier League.
But in the main we focussed on the big one, the tie of the round, the glamour meeting of two household names with a lot at stake.
And what a thriller it turned out to be; the bookies romping into the lead in “a bloodbath” early doors, even “pulling down the punters’ pants” in a string of unseemly off the ball incidents.
Punters “licked their wounds” as bookies key man Paul Binfield of Paddy Power even admitted it was getting “a little bit embarrassing” at times, such was the gulf in class between the sides.
Leon Blanche of BoyleSports was just pleased his outfit had sprung from the blocks: “In the past couple of years, we’d definitely be behind at this stage. It’s been a very good start.”
And Nicola McGeady of Ladbrokes hailed her plucky side’s “change of luck” on the big stage.
It was a clash largely played out in good spirit, with no shortage of banter between the sides. Tactically astute, the bookies were able to lure the punters into dangerous areas and dispossess them at will. But the indefatigable underdogs never knew when they were beaten, never knew when to stop.
And what an advertisement for the grand old game the second half turned out to be. The punters battled back into it, the bookies assured us, having stepped up the pace of their wagering to 10,000 bets a minute, according to match data.
Ultimately, there would, of course, be no giant killing in this David v Goliath bout.
Indeed, whatever the result, there could only be one winner. A result for the punters would be what they call, in the marketing game, a loss leader for the bookies.
Because in these ties, there is always a replay. But the game was the real winner, securing a profile across all media through the week that must be the envy of many a sporting body.
It is the kind of showcase that gifts the bookies’ star players a brand awareness up there with the sporting greats. The kind of platform that can deliver a real legacy. That brings, as Paddy Power chief Breon Corcoran put it in the cold language of commerce, “an opportunity to reactivate our old customers and bring in some new customers”.
Or, in keeping with the kind of language in favour this week, an opportunity to develop the grassroots and inspire a generation to download apps and deposit wages.
Perhaps the only quibble with the rapt coverage of this epic sporting contest is a certain lack of detail in some of the match reporting and an absence of clarity around the squad selections.
Next year, perhaps, as more and more journalistic resources are devoted to this blue riband encounter, we might be treated to team news in the build-up.
Father of four remains a doubt for the punters after cleaning out the family’s bank accounts.
The punters sweat on the availability of mother of two as she awaits a credit card limit extension.
Depressed teenager faces a late fitness test for the punters as he tries to muster the will to go on.
The punters’ out-of-form talisman cup-tied by panicked attempts to seek emergency accommodation after his eviction.
Unemployed woman won’t start for the punters as she has gone out on loan at The Rutland Centre.
It might give us a clearer picture of the stakes, the true impact of a ‘change of luck’ on the big stage.
It’s skin in the game
There are plenty places besides Cheltenham you can have a little skin in the game.
This week Ireland’s David Meyler and Conor Hourihane participated in promotions for EA Sport’s St Patrick’s Day event on FIFA 17 Ultimate Team. The ‘Pot Of Gold’ Squad Builder Challenge runs until Monday, with players encouraged to build teams with Ireland stars then trade them for a virtual ‘pot of gold’ that may be worth more or less than the virtual coins spent on building the team.
In a recent investigation, the UK Gambling Commission found this kind of activity within video games bears a close resemblance to gaming machines.
A close relation is so-called ‘skin gambling’, a billion-euro business, with players - many of them children - staking the virtual ‘coins’ earned gaming on real-life sports events.
The UK Gambling Commission recently shut down two British YouTubers who were running an operation allowing youngsters gamble FIFA Ultimate Team coins on the outcome of online tournaments. Their trial heard of one 14-year-old boy who lost £586 in a day. And the Commission warned parents of the “parasites feeding off popular video games”.
EA Sports remove players caught trading coins outside FIFA. But the Gambling Commission, while absolving game companies in its findings, pointed out that these economies they have developed now risk causing harm.
Paul Rouse wrote in these pages recently about the rise of esports and the blurring of lines between sport and gaming. The line between fun and gambling is becoming blurred too.
Dissent rising in rugby country
Has the whiff of bullshit finally began to fill nostrils within Rugby Country?
We have grown accustomed to the apocalyptic coverage, the idea that every game played is the last, that there is no greater test of the human spirit than can be found at ruck-time.
That everything we see is the bravest, the greatest, the most inspired, even if it’s just a kick to touch in a friendly.
But is it all starting to grate?
“It’s got to be war drums on a portentous slow-march with a gravel-voiced overlay making out that the fate of man itself is at stake,” wrote Malachy Clerkin in the Irish Times of the overblown RTE build-up to Ireland’s defeat in Cardiff.
“A load of rubbish,” reckoned Paul Kimmage, speaking on Newstalk, of a promo that warned us these epic nights “will test us to our souls.”
The unseemly level of amusement evident on social media after the defeat might be unfair on the players.
But the hard sell, hashtag heavy #shouldertoshoulder nonsense seems to have more people keen to point out they don’t feel part of it at all.
Mind you, while Rugby Country might be a state of enormous well-being more than a place, it will always be Rugby Country in Montrose.
“Are we going to get a documentary on every rugby game ever played from RTE?” asked Cormac O’Malley on Twitter ahead of this week’s offering No Words Needed.
Only in Rugby Country could a production make it through the various stages of editing with All-Ireland winner Joe Kernan billed as ‘former Antrim manager’.
Heroes & Villains
He might have sounded like ‘Yer Ma’ in George Hamilton’s hands, but Germain, Bakayoko, Mbappe and co were a joy in Man City’s embarrassment.
As fresh enemies loom on every horizon, the Mourification of United seems to have gathered pace in the last week or so.
What a meeting of minds that was with Vardy.
