Canty’s absence will make Obama grow fonder

What could Obama possibly know of struggle, of breaking down boundaries? Does he even realise what it took for players like Canty to topple Kerry?

IT’S NOT disdain or envy that tears at the soul of Cork people. No, we thrive off that, as I’m sure most people are painfully aware.

It’s becoming irrelevant — that’s the biggest fear. Xenophobia, prejudice, bad impressions, we’ll take it all, anything to just be part of the conversation. Anything to keep dreaded apathy at bay.

It’s bad enough that Tipp hurling captain Eoin Kelly was invited to the White House tomorrow. But what could possibly have caused President Barack Obama to miss out on a photo op with Cork football captain Graham Canty?

What could Obama possibly know of struggle, of breaking down boundaries that once seemed insurmountable? Does he even realise what it took for players like Canty to topple the Kingdom of Kerry? Yes, fine, fine, not playing them in Croke Park helped but that’s not the point.

This is the man who inspired us all to believe in change. Down in Bantry, that meant, ‘for the love of Christ, stop the misery’. It took one further Croker setback in 2009, admittedly, but the wheels of revolution move slowly and every great movement needs a catalogue of cock-ups to make victory all the sweeter.

But just when you think you’ve stood up to be counted, they knock you back down.

“We don’t know what the criteria was but we can confirm that Graham was not invited.” Cork County Board PRO Ger Lane told this newspaper on Saturday. “I suppose we’d be saying it should be like with like. If it was the captain of Tipperary it should be the captain of Cork too. If it was player of the year in hurling it should be player of the year in football.” I’m with Ger. Cork’s standing in the international community has never faced a greater threat.

Of course Obama’s mind is elsewhere this week. It’s March Madness in College Basketball and just like Cheltenham brings productivity screaming to a halt in Ireland and Britain, America can think of nothing else but hoops and hardwood.

The 32 conferences were decided — often dramatically — at the weekend and then the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) chose — often arbitrarily — the 68 teams thought best placed to keep the nation gripped over the next three weekends until the Final Four clash in Houston, Texas.

It’s a maddening flurry of bouncing balls, tears and giantkilling. We got some welcome respite when on Sunday night, ESPN alleviated the tension of the previous days’ action with a documentary about five college athletes who changed the game 20 years ago.

‘The Fab Five’ told the story of five University of Michigan freshmen, Chris Webber, Juwan Howard, Jalen Rose, Jimmy King and Ray Jackson, who brought street basketball to college courts, refusing to be derailed by racist taunts of alumni.

Soundtracked by hip-hop (a genre yet to conquer mainstream), they slam-dunked and trash-talked their way to two national finals in a row, tragically losing to the hated Duke University and then the inferior University of North Carolina, alma mater of Michael Jordan who inspired the five players to demand longer, baggier shorts, setting a trend that endures today.

Sportswriter Mitch Albom recounts a significant event in the documentary, summing up the ongoing dilemma of an amateur sport which generates millions of dollars — none of it (directly) for the players. Nike had capitalised on the players who captured the imagination, dominating prime-time TV every Saturday. The sports giant’s revenue off the back of Michigan’s college basketball programme sprang up from $2m to $10m thanks to these trailblazers.

It was early 1993 and the tempestuous but freakishly talented 19-year-old star player, Chris Webber, had just borrowed a few dollars for “pizza or gas” from Albom. They must have looked an odd pair ambling along whatever Detroit street they were on, the 6ft 10in power forward and the impish Michigan beat writer from the Detroit Free Press. According to Albom, Webber hesitated at a sports shop window and pointed at the blue and yellow singlet with his number on it. “I just borrowed money off you,” he said to Albom, “and they’re selling my name for $75.”

Webber was subsequently dogged by financial indiscretions throughout a relatively successful NBA career. He also boycotted the documentary. His absence made him all the more powerful a character. Something Canty should take heart from tomorrow.

- [e-mail]; Twitter: JohnWRiordan