Amidst dark clouds for Irish boxing, Kellie Harrington brings hope

FINAL HOPE: Kellie Harrington celebrates after winning against Angie Paola Valdes Pana  in their women's 60kg quarter-final. Photo by Stephen McCarthy/Sportsfile

Cruelty can be found in every celebration. There is an underlying tragedy as the country advances towards its most prosperous Olympics. Ireland’s most successful sport, the most diverse and inclusive, is in grave jeopardy. That much is a simple fact. Everything else is mind-bendingly complicated.

Irish boxing will bring home one medal from Paris. Eight fighters were defeated in their opening bout. All hopes now lie on Kellie Harrington defending her gold medal. She steps into a blockbuster semi-final against Beatriz Ferreira on Saturday night. This is a rematch against the woman she bested in 2021 and who has since gone on to win the IBF lightweight title as part of Eddie Hearn’s Matchroom stable. If pressure is a privilege, Harrington now carries national honour.

A poor return elsewhere, unquestionably. How bad? Hard to say. Just getting ten to this stage was an enormous achievement. Remember it is a record-equalling team size. Not since 1960 have so many Irish boxers qualified. In Tokyo Irish boxing claimed two medals. In Rio it was zero.

There have been issues of form. And tactics, and governance and new superpowers and scoring and pot luck. Nothing new there. The sport has always been the most extreme of lucky dips; reach in and you’ll find anything from heartbreak trinkets to heroic crowns. Hometown refereeing is a worldwide phenomenon, but Olympic boxing is a world leader.

“I can’t believe they’re doing this to you,” whispered referee Aldo Leoni to Roy Jones Jr, before lifting the hand of Korea's Park Si-hun to pronounce him 1988 light middleweight gold champion in front of a raucous Seoul. The home boxer took two standing eight counts, was warned twice and landed 32 punches to Jones Jr’s 86.

Boxing’s beauty has always been how it can take people from marginalised communities and make them national figures. After securing a bronze medal, Harrington spoke movingly about how much her people mean to her. She wondered if her wife Mandy was in the crowd and laughed when told she had ducked down as a camera tried to pick her out. She promised that the next Portland Row homecoming will be bigger and better. This time there would be no bus, she was walking down the street and shaking hands with everyone who ‘had her back.’ “Whether I win or whether I lose, and that is when you see who is really there, when the chips are down, they are there for me when the chips are down and I can’t thank those people enough,” she declared.

There are a cohort for whom boxing exists as a showpiece jolt to be gripped once every four years for seven exhilarating days. That is just fine, obviously. It is fantastic and vital that every sport has its moment. Beyond that there is an ever-present foundation. They have been rocked in recent days. They have dealt with colossal blows in the past and stayed standing. They will pick up the pieces, continuing to carry on for as long as they can.

The moment Aoife O’Rourke looked most hurt served as a brutal reminder of that reality. It was outside the ring in front of the Paris Nord Arena’s main stand. She was hardly going to be hurt by the absurd wrestling and grappling that unfolded beforehand, in fairness. Predominantly, she was saddened for her tribe.

“I am so disappointed. I am so disappointed that I left myself down, the coaches down, all the support.” O’Rourke hails from Castlerea boxing club. One of the greatest moments in the club’s history became one of the worst last March when the All-Ireland championships were interrupted by a number of men armed with machetes. Their malicious and craven behaviour left diligent volunteers devastated. They announced on social media that they could no longer host future championships.

The response from the wider community was immediate. What the club had contributed to the area and society would not be harmed by this. It is a persistent source of pride.

O’Rourke was at her most expressive at the pre-Paris media day when talking about the positive impact her club and coaches have had. She took her chance to put them on a platform.

“It is just an amazing club,” she declared. "Paddy and Helen (Sharkey) and everyone else have put a huge amount of work into it. There are a load of kids in there training their hearts out every night.

"It is great when they see Lisa or myself, all the older kids, winning All-Irelands. It motivates them. Thery are really excited. They all have their fun too. It is a brilliant club and brilliant facilities to have in a small town.” 

She is a three-time European champion. Her sister Lisa is a World champion. That endures before and after the Olympics, though the games are necessary for funding and as a focal point.

Castlerea will still unite around its local stars. Nationally, the replacement for outgoing IABA High Performance director Tricia Heberle will be key. There is a bigger picture within that too. Head coach Zaur Antia has long campaigned for funding to expand the high performance unit to incorporate underage prospects too. Ireland became a world leader when they redeveloped their programme in 2003. They can’t afford to sit still either.

But the bigger dilemma is the governance issues in the sport, the tortured civil war between the IBA and IOC and its wide-ranging implications, the void that will be left if boxing succumbs and is excluded for the LA Games in 2028. The last seven days were a trainwreck with regards to improving a marred image. Failed drugs tests, a gender controversy, the standard of judging, it is all hastening the decline.

Amidst all that Ireland has some good. Kellie Harrington is in prime condition and well-placed to challenge another history-maker. Ferreira became the first Brazilian boxer to claim two medals with her quarter-final clash. The winner will become a strong favourite to clinch a gold medal. The point is that for Irish boxing, there are wider priorities too.

Right now, there is so much on the line.