Michael Moynihan: It had to be golf. It had to be
This morning I am calling for the immediate reinstatement of a vital organisation, one absolutely central to the full functioning of our democracy at this time of turmoil and crisis.
I refer to the Oireachtas Golf Society, of course.
Sheathe your pitchforks. Extinguish the blazing torches.
Can’t you see that these are the people who are training an X-ray on the most intimate workings of our society for the cost of a hotel dinner? That this hitherto clandestine group is not a collection of v-necked bores networking dully via the honks and brays associated with golf the world over, but rather a sophisticated nest of operatives bent on openness, honesty and transparency - all via the medium of beef or salmon (veg on the side)?
The golf isn’t just baked in for extra flavour. It had to be golf, as more than one person has remarked since Aoife-Grace Moore and Paul Hosford of this parish held the Society’s feet to the fire last week.
The horse racing sector made a fair bid for the title of ‘most tone-deaf sport’ with its decision to clamp its hands over its ears in order to continue with Cheltenham: space requirements mean this isn’t quite the forum to draw attention to the same industry’s jaw-dropping deployment of wholesale revisionism very soon afterwards.
The wealthy English soccer clubs which made non-playing staff redundant over the summer were realistic competitors which horse racing had to contend with, as was the GAA on foot of its abrupt invitation to Dr Ronan Glynn to present himself before the green table (see previous columns).
It was interesting to see a few halfhearted attempts to separate the game from its players, but that’s the wrong angle from which to examine the connective tissue: you’re better off coming at the sport by looking at its surrounding culture, as exemplified by the shindig in the hotel in Clifden.
Which is where I circle back to my starting point. If these brave souls weren’t playing the long con with the image of golf as an upmarket social lubricant, how else could you explain the fact that they were hiding in plain sight? Their critics would be better off seeing them as working against golf from the inside, bringing it down like . . . like the Greeks in that Trojan horse.
Well, one particular part of the horse.
If you doubt me, consider what other sport would attract people capable of delivering such a stunning array of statements spiked with rationalisations, unapologetic apologies, excuses, contradictions, understandings (clear and unclear), not to mention the term which falls like magic fairy-dust on every statement of regret ever forced through gritted teeth: “unreservedly”.
(Special mention here to Paudge Connolly who appears to have come to a golf dinner from playing golf on a golfing holiday in Spain. Did he golf on the plane journey? He put me in mind of an old Martin Amis line, “He felt the desire to smoke a cigarette even when he was smoking a cigarette.”)
I’m sure it’s quite clear from the above that your correspondent is, ah, agnostic about the charms of the sport of golf. I don’t begrudge others their fun; warts notwithstanding, I am not Oliver Cromwell cancelling life’s little pleasures. Why, some of my best friends rhubarb rhubarb, golf and handicaps rhubarb rhubarb, captain’s prize rhubarb rhubarb.
But none of them are cleverly showing us how Irish society works from the inside, with golf as their sword of truth. Or putter of truth. Or something.
You probably think I’m being sarcastic. Perish the thought. Consider how the United States would be doing if only the Oireachtas Golf Society had an equivalent in Congress.
Let the 81 free. They’re doing God’s work.
Many thanks to the reader who got in touch to point out an interesting episode across the pond, where a young baseball player committed a bit of a faux pas by breaking the unwritten rules of his sport.
Yes, you read that correctly. Unwritten.
Fernando Tatis Jr. hit a grand slam home run for the San Diego Padres (his teammates were on base, which meant the home run counted for four runs in total).
The tsk-tsking started almost immediately. When Tatis hit the home run his side were already up 10-3, winning comfortably, and running up the score is - yes - breaking an unwritten rule.
Piling on the scores would mean showing up the opposition, which is frowned upon in baseball (“We’re not trying to run up the score or anything like that,” said Tingler).
We could be here until Monday week pointing out the contradictions here, a professional sport where it’s bad form to get a high score.
The puzzle isn’t limited to me and you either - Tatis himself said, “I know a lot of unwritten rules, I was kind of lost on this,” - though it was interesting that quite a few of his fellow professionals supported him for doing his job.
When you start talking about the culture of a sport you get into some odd territory - see the political scandal uncovered here less than a week ago - but my question is this.
What are the unwritten rules of your sport?
Glad to feature a deserving cause here.
Get online to pick up a copy of The Drawn Game, a book featuring artwork by 27 illustrators and artists as well as conversations with some of the greats from the world of hurling, camogie and Gaelic football.
The likes of Anthony Daly, Tomás Ó Sé, Rena Buckley, Graeme Mulcahy, Eoin Murphy, Sarah Rowe, Brian Carroll, Gary Brennan, Conor McKenna, Aisling McCarthy and Cian Lynch figure in the book, with proceeds from the sale going to the ‘A Better Life for Livie' fundraiser.
Keith and Karen Mulhern from County Donegal are currently raising funds for the treatment and care of their daughter Olivia - Livie - has been diagnosed with a rare and serious genetic neuromuscular condition called spinal muscular atrophy (SMA) type 1.
Of all the books I’ve referred to here over the years, only one has ever been mentioned to me in a press box. This may be informative about either the books I mention or the inhabitants of the press box, but common courtesy forbids me from sharing my opinion.
The book in question was Into The Silence by Wade Davis, an account of the early attempts to climb Mount Everest which would sustain anyone for a good month on a desert island: a brilliant, brilliant read.
Davis has now published another book. Magdalena: River of Dreams. I haven’t seen it yet but if it’s half as good as Into The Silence there’s a treat in store for readers.
