Tommy Martin: Irish Olympians have delivered more than a relentless quest for medals 

Aidan Walsh with his bronze medal and sister Michaela Walsh at the Olympic village. Picture: INPHO/Morgan Treacy

In days gone by Bill O’Herlihy would chair a debate on the last day of RTÉ’s Olympic coverage, the tenor of which was to question what the hell we had been at for the previous two weeks.

As the fireworks of the closing ceremony fizzled out, Billo would gather Mick Dowling, Gary O’Toole, Jerry Kiernan or the likes and, before the nation’s attention spans had moved on, try to spitball how we might not make a show of ourselves in future.

This must have been around the dog days of Sydney and Athens. Once the showjumping lawmen had collared Cian O’Connor and the dastardly Waterford Crystal, Sonia O’Sullivan’s 5,000 silver medal was all we had to show for those two Olympics.

In fact, if you put aside Michelle Smith – hey, don’t @ me Michelle! – Sonia was the only medal between Michael Carruth and Wayne McCullough in 1992 and the boxers of Beijing in 2008.

What would Bill and his council of elders make of the current team’s efforts? At the time of writing Team Ireland have four medals, their joint third best total ever, and still there is a slight air of underachievement. There’s been rotten luck, injuries and some have plain underperformed. Three or four further gongs lie out there, in the ether.

So Bill and company would have a decent rattle at it. The Irish Olympic effort is bigger and better these days, but so too are the expectations.

On the other hand, medals aren’t everything, admittedly easy to say when you’ve got a few in the bag. While performances have been more up and down than the men’s trampoline final, one area in which this Irish team has been consistent is the honesty and humanity of their post-event interviews.

This might seem like small potatoes in the great scheme of things, the equivalent of a midtable side organising an open-top bus to celebrate winning the fair play award. Didn’t John Giles always say that post-match interviews were a waste of time: jumbled, disordered thoughts tumbling from a still-fevered brain?

Still, at a time of extreme emotional chassis, so many of the Irish team have spoken with humour, poise and class. Even those overcome with disappointment have struck a tone of admirable pluck.

Top of the class – in this as in so many other ways – were the golden boys, Paul O’Donovan and Fintan McCarthy. Continuing the well-honed house style first seen in Rio, Skibbereen Nonchalance might become a thing that people study on MBA courses. Business gurus will seek to define the essence of success through not appearing to give a shit. The key message from the lightweight pair to future champions is that no matter how hard you train or how ferociously you compete, there really is no need to drone on about it afterwards.

Gold medallist Fintan McCarthy is congratulated by Claire Lambe at Dublin Airport as Team Ireland's rowers return from Tokyo. Picture: David Fitzgerald/Sportsfile

Ditto the women’s four, ‘Big Strong Gorls’ as per their Instagram, who made such a gruelling, competitive sport seem like such fun.

The boxers battled tough draws and the sport’s usual vicissitudes to turn in their fair share of shiny metal but won even more hearts with the candour of their post-fight words. To listen to light-heavyweight Emmet Brennan after his first round loss was to hear the truth of most Olympians laid bare. In defeat, Brennan reckoned with the journey he had come on, the penury, the pain and the unyielding family support, and wept at it all.

Each boxer paid grateful tribute to their coaches, Zaur Antia and John Conlan, deflecting all praise to the tactical nous of the cornermen, to the extent that one began to briefly forget who had just spent nine minutes with someone trying to punch them in the face.

Michaela Walsh and her bronze-winning brother Aidan charmed with their quirky Belfast repartee, sister shrugging off her own defeat to throw herself into the role of her bro’s biggest cheerleader, the two becoming the most popular sibling duo since The Krankies.

And then there is Kellie. There can be few more important medal winners. A beacon for a community benighted by low expectations, she surpasses hers time after time. When she steps in the ring or in front of a microphone, she radiates the possibilities of the human spirit. For Dublin’s north inner city, when Kellie’s around it is, indeed, Hakuna Matata time.

Honourable mentions for Annalise Murphy, regal in her wistful reflection on voyage’s end, and Thomas Barr, whose resting face is a beaming smile. A clattered hurdle, a season’s best time but no final, Barr ended his interview with David Gillick still grinning.

Mona McSharry took in her milestone achievement in the pool with breezy confidence. Rhys McClenaghan, a genuine medal prospect whose dream ended with a misplaced finger, gathered himself to declare his pride and defiance at the fickle nature of fate. Jack Woolley and the heartbreaking wobble of his lower lip.

Ireland’s Mona McSharry on her way to finishing 2nd in her heat en route to an Olympic final. Picture: INPHO/Bryan Keane

A lot of this might, to the ears of your local bloviating conservative, sound like loser talk. What does it matter if Irish Olympians are good people? Show me the medals! The motto isn’t Faster, Higher, Nicer, is it?

This might have caused raised eyebrows on Billo’s panel back in the day, but thankfully we know now that the relentless quest for medals isn’t all it is cracked up to be. Look at Great Britain’s focus on winning at all costs, hooked around London 2012, which left a trail of carnage in its wake. Bullying, sexism and doping allegations tainted their all-conquering cycling program, while funding was coldly diverted from high-participation community sports to the elite medal factories.

Nowadays, Olympians are celebrated for being role models – for girls, for marginalised communities, for the general wellness of the nation – as much as for their pursuit of glory. Team Ireland’s overall prospects for success have greatly improved since those grim days when Sonia stood alone, but the athletes haven’t sacrificed their personalities for the cause.

On the contrary, what has shone through from those in green in those heightened moments after success or failure has been humility, humour and heart. They have come across as decent human beings with a good perspective on what they are doing, things you cannot add to an Olympic medal total, but which still count for something.