Putting the cross in cross border

STOP me if you’ve heard it before.

Ian Paisley falls into a coma and when, 20 years later, he suddenly regains consciousness and sits up in his bed, it’s only to learn that he is living in a very changed world.

“Great to have you back, Rev Paisley,” Peter Robinson tells him, “but I’m afraid I have some bad news. First of all, you are now in a united Ireland.”

Paisley groans.

Taking a deep breath, Robinson goes on: “And I’m afraid it gets worse — our President is Mr Gerry Adams.”

The 100-year-old man slumps back on the pillows.

“However there is some good news,” Robinson continues, offering a bright smile. “Rangers have just beaten Celtic in the Old Firm derby.” Paisley punches the air in celebration. “Why, that’s excellent news,” he says, “what was the score?”

Robinson coughs. “Er, Rangers 1-14, Celtic 1-7”.

Yes, it’s an oldie but a goodie and, after the extraordinary events of recent weeks up North, even himself might see the funny side of it now.

Those who thought they’d never live to see the day when Big Ian and Martin would be happily nattering over a cup of tea, obviously weren’t playing attention to their football. When Roy Keane was able to break bread with first Niall Quinn and then Mick McCarthy, it was clearly only a matter of time before some of the other warring factions on this island would kiss and make-up.

But then, just as we’re coming to terms with yet another astonishing outbreak of peace, love and understanding, along come Cork City and Linfield to jog the collective memory with a burst of ‘The Way We Were’.

It began with Joe Gamble’s comments in the immediate aftermath of the Setanta Cup semi-final. The Cork City midfielder was perplexed at how Cork had lost a game in which they had created the bulk of goal chances but, unfortunately, chose to express his dismay in a manner which paid scant respect to the very freshest of evidence. “We’re not afraid of anyone in Northern Ireland,” he fumed.

“They’re not good enough to beat anyone, not us, not St Pats, not Drogheda.” Not good enough to beat anyone, indeed, except when, er, they’ve just beaten you. It took a couple of days for David Jeffrey to respond to Gamble’s rebel yell but the Blues manager’s ire was well worth waiting for.

“I’m sick, sore and tired of the hallions down south slagging us off, particularly that crowd from Cork. They are the most ungracious group of people that I have ever met in my life, especially Joe Gamble. What annoys me is the ungracious attitude of them. They are an absolute joke and I’ll tell you, Cork are absolutely nowhere, they’ve done nothing and they’re pathetic.”

Oh, come on David, get down off the fence. (By the way, extensive research suggests that “hallion” is a dialect word meaning a “worthless person’’, though I suspect you might have been able to take an educated stab at that from the context).

Hopefully, such wounds as there are will have healed before next year’s competition, since one of the most striking aspects of the Setanta Cup to date has been the generally harmonious attitude which has prevailed throughout the cross-border competition.

Visiting Windsor Park for the semi-final, this visitor from the south couldn’t but be struck by the contrast with my trip up there for the infamous World Cup qualifier between the Republic and the North in 1993. On that occasion, we hacks were practically smuggled into the place under a blanket of high security and warned not to raise our voices or otherwise draw undue attention to ourselves. That still didn’t save the great Con Houlihan who, unintentionally slow in standing up for ‘God Save The Queen’, was the recipient of a dig in the back and a shout of ‘Stand up ye fenian bastard’ from an irate local. The only consolation was to contemplate what must have been gone through his assailant’s mind as the Castleisland Colossus rose slowly to his feet, first blocking out the floodlights and then the moon.

Fourteen years on, the atmosphere couldn’t have been more different at a venue where Cork City fans and other visitors from the south could mingle with the red, white and blue hordes without fear of raising hell, or even hallions. Doubtless not everyone approved but northern hospitality — or at worst a studied indifference — was very much the order of the day.

Yet, while the Setanta Cup has been good for north-south footballing relations as well as worthwhile financially for the clubs involved, it would be wildly overstating things to suggest that it has captured the imagination of the public. For the Linfield-Cork game, a mere 2,500 souls made it into Windsor Park, a pretty poor return for a cup semi-final between two of the biggest clubs on the island. The impressive Belfast venue will today host the final between Linfield and Drogheda but even if the game were to attract three times the semi-final crowd, the ground will still look depressingly half-empty on the television screens.

Hopefully, the quality of the match will provide sufficient compensation. And we may trust too that any ding-dong battle which ensues will be strictly confined within the white lines.