Begrudgers need to get back in their box
THERE’S NOTHING better than a bit of success on the sporting fields to bring out the worst in people.
Every now and then we produce a team or individual that is capable of mixing it with the best on the world stage, but if Olympic medals were handed out for begrudgery we’d be on the top step of the podium with regularity.
Admittedly, as a nation we do get more than a small bit carried away when it comes to celebrating sporting achievements, but when you’re continually striving to punch above your weight the Irish can be forgiven for over-romanticising matters.
But for every supporter that punches the air with joy there’s another creeping out of the woodwork to undermine any achievement - the sort of Grinch-like character who revels in a loss when it’s not their sport of choice.
Ireland’s momentous win over the All Blacks was a classic case in point, when minutes after the final whistle the nay-sayers were out in force on social media bleating ‘sure it was only a friendly, what are you getting so excited about?’
Obviously the boo-boys don’t fully comprehend the importance of test rugby, that it’s not just a matter of ridding yourself of the cobwebs similar to Manchester United against Shanghai Shenhua in some money-spinning pre-season tournament.
Given that the Rugby World Cup is a relatively recent manifestation, it was traditionally a way that the European sides could pit their wits against the best the southern hemisphere has to offer, so there’s nothing friendly about it and there’s most certainly plenty at stake.
Maybe not quite as much as some would have you believe though.
In some circles it was being described as the greatest ever sporting achievement for our little country, with more pull-outs and column inches dedicated to it than a visit from the Pope.
While it was unquestionably a phenomenal display, I find it slightly derogatory towards great Irish teams of the past which showed consistency and put a string of results together in the white heat of competitive rugby to capture a Grand Slam.
One fine day doesn’t make a summer and all that.
I’d consider myself as a realist and in some perverse kind of way I came away from watching Saturday’s game with more of a sense of satisfaction than the historic win a fortnight earlier.
The rub of the green and a few questionable decisions went against Ireland in the Aviva, but there’s no doubting that the All Blacks deserved their victory for their brilliant defensive work.
However, Ireland had enough about them to show that Chicago was no fluke and will harbour high hopes of getting that annoying monkey off their back and finally reaching a World Cup semi-final.
I have to admit that I’m not overly-enamoured with rugby in its modern guise though.
It’s more about brute strength and force at present than guile, side-steps and neat off-loads.
Don’t get me wrong, the big, battering-ram bruiser should always have their place in the game and the crowd loves the occa- sional huge hit that would make you wince, but not to the total detriment of skilful runners, and at times you’d yearn for a David Campese-style ‘goose-step’.
Top teams in all sports tend to play on the edge but there was a level of cynicism and rough-house play deployed by the All Blacks on Saturday that left a slightly sour taste in the mouth.
Speaking of scare tactics, I used to think the haka was a great tool for intimidation but the reaction of my six-year-old daughter to the war dance has made me question its effect.
She burst into fits of laughter, asking ‘what are those silly men doing daddy?’
And this is coming from somebody who has seen me dancing at a wedding.
If Donald Trump thinks he can heal division across the pond, fans of other sports can surely briefly sing hymns of praise off the same sheet and congratulate an Irish team on a job well done.
To hell with the begrudgers.