Larry Ryan: Seeing warning signs and hearing alarm bells ringing
HEATED: Arsenal boss Mikel Arteta remonstrates with fourth official Jarred Gillet during the Premier League clash with Newcastle at the Emirates. Pic: Julian Finney/Getty Images
It is a busy time for the Excitement Police, the folk out there who are dampening down, who are keeping a lid on, who are reining in. Who are making sure sports enthusiasts in all codes are not getting carried away.
Round the clock vigilance is required in this specialist area to guard against unwarranted outbreaks of hope. To nip in the bud premature doses of unbelievable belief.
In the GAA, it is mandatory for somebody to state, following a game in any pre-season competition, that nobody, NOBODY, will be getting carried away. This blanket ban on excitement is targeted chiefly at supporters more than players, who presumably have enough on their plates following their āprogrammesā to enjoy anything at the moment.
It may even be the principal reason these matches are played ā vital practice, early in the year, in not getting carried away.
The games serve as vaccination centres, where a small dose of victory can be injected, in the hope that participants and observers wonāt be laid low by bigger triumphs down the track.
Because not getting carried away will remain essential, especially after wins in OnlyTheLeague and routine trouncings in the championship.
Officers will stay on duty until a canister is lifted in the Hogan Stand. And even then, night staff will monitor the celebrations, lest getting carried away jeopardises any chance of doing the āback to backā.
Of course not everyone is starting from scratch right now. This idea that the New Year offers a fresh beginning to reset and better oneself has always been fatally undermined by it landing bang in the middle of the Premier League campaign. How can you make resolutions or plans when your prospects of enjoying the year may already be dangerously diminished, unless āone or two bodiesā arrive in the window?
Yet, the Excitement Police are out in force in this arena too. There have been door to door checks, in recent weeks, for evidence of Arsenal fans getting carried away. Erik ten Hag has had to vow that no one will be getting carried away with a few wins and a few minutes peace now His Lordship has gone. And we certainly canāt be getting carried away with Evan Ferguson, in case we destabilise the big lad with our excitement.
Thankfully Newcastle remains the one surviving oasis where getting carried away is an acceptable way of life, where you are encouraged to strip naked in gleeful celebration at winning a corner.
But the Geordies aside, I often wonder where it has come from, this widespread fear that supporters everywhere may be about to lose the run of themselves. Because surely any anthropological study would number sports fans among the most pessimistic people on earth.
Alright, exclude citizens of Rugby Country from this thesis, where a natural sense of enormous well-being dismisses any concern that things might go astray on the field.
And we may omit followers of individual sports, including those who align themselves with individuals in a team sport, such as His Lordship. These people tend to remain bullish at all times, unable to countenance any weaknesses in their hero. For instance, there was no great panic among his legion of followers when Michael van Gerwen announced he could not be stopped after cruising through his semi-final at the darts. In the solo pursuits, we expect a little bravado comes with the package. Though we may have to review that leeway in future.
These exceptions aside, isnāt an overwhelming feeling of foreboding the most common state of mind of anyone with half an interest in a team? Isnāt everyone perpetually seeing warning signs and hearing alarm bells ringing? Forever detecting bad omens.
Who are these lunatics getting carried away?
Is it possible to even enjoy a soccer match, where you have skin in the game, until your team is out of sight? Sure, there is a surge of jubilation at 1-0, almost immediately supplanted by a concern they might just have scored too early. Certainly, there can be a wave of hysteria at 2-0, and a brief conviction that they look to be on song today. Only to hear the ticking time bomb of the most dangerous lead in football.
Ah look, you can probably detect Iām a bit rattled. Anxious even. It may be time for the big reveal on this page ā a closely guarded secret kept under wraps for nearly 12 years now. Yes, I have some sympathy with the fortunes of the Arsenal, dating back to the Brady years.
āMy word, you kept that well hidden,ā says you. āHavenāt you remained resolutely fair and balanced on all matters Premier League over the years?āĀ
Well, thanks very much.
But, itās also fair to say that very little of this columnās innings has been spent with the Arsenal there or thereabouts, in a title race. So who knows what way things could go? Already you have seen a cheap, needless jibe at Newcastle fans following this weekās setback. What invective is likely to creep in as things gradually unravel?
See, thereās certainly no getting carried away. In fact, this rarified air demands a fair bit of acclimatisation. Itās easy to forget the stress and inconvenience involved.Ā
Who needs to know when the cutoff is for five bookings triggering a suspension? Yet I do, for the first time in many years.Ā Ā
One minute Gary Neville was a tolerable if occasionally grating co-commentator, now heās virtually impossible to listen to, at least on Arsenal duty.Ā
What way is it to live, finding yourself, on a Thursday night, urging Chelsea to dig in? Placing your well-being in the retractable hands of Kepa.
We are all Arteta now, losing the rag just outside his technical area.
And of course itās all the mediaās fault, whoever is steering our industry. One minute, you can relatively peacefully enjoy the striking progress of an exciting young team. And before you know it, somebody has declared a 'run-in' has begun. The ānext five gamesā panels appear. Worse, the first of the points projections land.Ā
It is all these people who are getting carried away. The Excitement Police need to start making a few arrests.Ā
In a great feature for the Irish Times over Christmas, Denis Walsh caught up with some of the fathers of Limerickās current all-conquerors. Five of this teamās dads hurled for the county. It stirred a few old debates: Nature or nurture? Breeding or feeding?
If you missed the GearĆ³id Hegarty interview during the week, he was more than willing to dive into the debate. In a nutshell, he reckoned it often helped him along the way ā being Ger Seniorās son meant people would be quicker to give him a second look. But he also figured there are plenty out there with similar potential, but just donāt have the stomach for the sacrifices needed.
It didnāt make the final piece, because Hego was so open on so much. But as a teacher, he also discussed the relative age effect in schools. And how he often sees youngsters delayed or derailed in their development because of when in the year they were born.
And in a way, itās a similar phenomenon. The lad born in January is told heās good, so believes heās good, so dedicates himself to becoming better. The same might apply to the son of the countyman.
He achieved a lot, and always with dignity, but that Samp title in ā91 was a landmark achievement at a time when the worldās eyes were on the giants of Italian football. He departed the year after, following European Cup final defeat, for a world record fee, breaking a few hearts. Though he found his way into plenty more.
Not having it. Part of the majesty of these goliaths of the arrows is the way they somehow manage to somehow find peace in a madhouse. Applying earmuffs is like fitting an engine to your bicycle.
