Tommy Martin: Dousing the flames of an administrative inferno
You’d almost feel sorry for Donal Conway. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The role of FAI president was always a purely ceremonial one. Think Grand Marshal of the St Patrick’s Day parade, but without the cheering crowds and giant papier-maché models of Fionn McCumhaill.
It involved smiling in photos and stumbling through speeches at FAI events. Then dinner. The position was rotated among long-serving board members who’d put in the hard yards, nodding in agreement at the right times, throwing in the odd “I agree with John on this one.” You even got a lovely gold chain to wear.
