On-pitch action only half the joy of ‘being there’

It was mid-morning last Saturday and the press corps following the Republic of Ireland was arriving at Arka Gdynia’s stadium in dribs and drabs for duties ahead of the last Group C game, against Italy.

There had been determined talk of rising early a week before and making for the nearest Irish pub to watch the first Test between Ireland and New Zealand but the 42-10 defeat and the day’s more immediate demands had scuppered any such thoughts this time.

It was Twitter that rekindled our interest.

Journalists were hooked one at a time by the feed coming through as reality dawned that Declan Kidney’s side may just do the impossible and become the first Irish team to defeat the All Blacks.

It was terrific and torturous all at the same time. Minutes passed without word and then another flurry of tweets would announce the latest score, yellow card or missed drop goal attempt from a field 18,000km away.

Then came the last pocket of information: the agony of Nigel Owens’ decision to penalise Ireland at the scrum, Dan Carter’s winning drop goal and the emotional interview given by Brian O’Driscoll in the moments after the final whistle.

How strange that, in this day and age, the latest in technology could conjure up an image that would have been recognisable to sports fans 50, 60 or 70 years ago as we crowded round our generation’s version of the wireless.

And it wasn’t just the rugby that almost passed Irish fans and media by in Poland. Much of the football did, too, because it is a reality of major international tournaments that the majority of people who attend them see less than those watching at home on TV. An event in your sitting-room is an on-tap feed of action, commentary and punditry supplemented by print and online media, radio talk shows and highlight programmes for junkies or those sidetracked earlier in the day.

Take to the road and life tends to get in the way.

Planes, trains, automobiles and – in Poland — camper vans become a way of life. Train tickets must be bought, ordered or printed: hotels found and vacated: restaurants discovered, pubs frequented and — for some — tickets sought or sold.

For some, even hygiene can be a challenge. One Irish supporter parked his mobile castle up next to a garage in Poznan last Monday, stripped to his underwear and applied the soap while an accommodating and amused mechanic hosed him down.

Sure, you try your best. Your whole day might be planned to the last detail with the intention of catching England and France live from Donetsk but somehow, somewhere, something will inevitably trip you up, slow you down or divert you entirely.

Even best intentions get waylaid.

Last Saturday week, this reporter and three colleagues sat down to dinner to watch the evening’s entertainment at the same time as three Polish supporters who were more interested in imbibing than digesting.

Protestations that we were not drinking anything stronger than Earl Grey tea and coffee were ignored as a round of Mad Dogs — Vodka with Tabasco sauce and a hint of cherry — were produced.

The football had soon passed us by as new, if temporary, friendships were made.

None of this is by way of complaint. The beauty of attending sports events is that it is never confined to what unfolds between the white lines. It is just as much about how you get there, who you go there with, where you eat and who you meet.

It’s a universal experience that holds for rugby, GAA or any other code you’d care to mention, which was what made some of the chatter that followed Ireland’s narrow defeat in New Zealand on Twitter so annoying, even if it was all too familiar.

Within minutes, the comparisons and jibes had started. “Why can’t the soccer boys do that?” “Good to see an Irish team doing us proud!” You get the gist. A familiar, depressing stick with which most sports are beaten at one stage or another.

Cyril Farrell was at the same thing Sunday when, whilst co-commentating on the Clare-Waterford Munster hurling semi-final at Semple Stadium, he pointed a needless barb at the Euros.

To be fair, his assertion that you could be drinking coffee and fall asleep watching the games in Poland and Ukraine wasn’t without some wit but it was wide of the mark given the entertainment and goals witnessed up to that point. But why bother at all? Not a fan of the sport? Fine. Leave it to those of us who are.