Lee a model for how business can be done
WHEN Michael O’Leary is offering passengers a free tipple on a Ryanair flight, it’s clearly a momentous day.
With that canny sense of selfpromotion and ability to spot a window of opportunity that made him famous and financially secure, the Ryanair chief executive turned horse-racing owner appeared at the front of the plane to inform those passengers flying from Liverpool to Dublin on Saturday night that the drinks were on him.
A free bar. Or at least one drink only per person.
Apologising for the delay as the plane waited for jockey Davy Russell to board, such magnanimity was for a good reason, to celebrate ‘the day won the Grand National’, Tiger Roll coming home in a photo finish.
When RTÉ news brought their cameras to Summerhill to witness the coronation of local trainer Gordon Elliott, there was Meath double All-Ireland winner Mick Lyons standing at his shoulder. A testament to how a small rural community can produce men to bestride their own sporting landscape.
O’Leary, as the man signing the cheques, was front and centre of the whole story.
The modern sporting arena has become the plaything of the multi-millionaire cum billionaire.
Last weekend, Manchester City wrapped up the Premier League, the trophy gift-wrapped by their not-no-noisy neighbours Manchester United. On Sunday May 6, that trophy will officially be presented after the penultimate home game against Huddersfield. But what of the owner? What part will Sheikh Mansour bin Zayed Al Nahyan play on the day?
So many of the top sports clubs are now effectively the property of their billionaire owners. A club’s proud history is bought and paid for and swopped out for those who write the cheques. So it’s Abramovich’s Chelsea. Glazers’ Manchester United. Or take Newcastle, whose public image is fatefully attached to the brash persona of Mike Ashley, the club’s destiny predicated on the whims of the man who made his money in the sports goods business. In the NFL, it’s Robert Kraft’s New England Patriots, the owner a regular feature on the winners’ rostrum and pride of place in front of the players, Tom Brady included. Rugby has the likes of Racing 92’s real estate magnate Jacky Lorenzetti stirring the financial pot. Then there is Denis O’Brien who went one step further, buying a share in the national football team no less. Under-writing a significant portion of the cost of first Giovanni Trapattoni’s salary, and then Martin O’Neill, was significant in its own way, giving the billionaire sporting enthusiast a say in international competition. An amount totalling almost €10million over the last 10 years. No strings attached, of course. How long before GAA teams become the playthings for high financiers? Or players, for that matter?
Much has been made of Lee Chin’s current situation, where the Wexford hurler has been upfront about foregoing any sort of nine to five regular employment. Hugely talented and a charismatic, genial figure in conversation, he is the perfect fit as a brand ambassador for the three companies that are combining to pay his way: O’Neills sportswear, Fulfil Nutrition and sports drink iPRO Sport.
It’s hardly a reach to think that there is a businessman out there who must be looking at this and thinking, why not attach myself to one of the top hurlers or footballers out there? Go out and personally sponsor a player?
Team sponsorship has become the norm since the Arnotts and Kepak logos appeared on the front of Dublin and Meath jerseys during the four-match 1991 Leinster Football Championship saga, which Mick Lyons featured in. Individual player sponsorship is now the growth industry as sports players across the codes operate in a higher realm of profile and popularity.
Chin’s financial support means he can dedicate himself to being a Wexford hurler. He can try and give himself every chance to realise his full potential on the field.
But the dilemma for the GAA as an association is that, even at the top level, it’s still meant to be an amateur game.
A player who is effectively fulltime is pushing the envelope again. Especially at a time when the debate over whether a form of semi-professionalism is viable at elite level in hurling and Gaelic football is never far away.
AIG are one of the blue-chip sponsors out there with deep pockets. Say they decide to pick three Dublin footballers and provide the financial back-up to allow them dedicate themselves to the four-in-a-row. For argument’s sake: Stephen Cluxton, James McCarthy and Cian O’Sullivan. The only three players who have started in all five of the All-Ireland victories since 2011.
Cluxton is one of those in the teacher bracket whose career and summer holidays dovetail nicely with the Championship but it’s hardly a stretch either to imagine that he could find even another level to his game if he could dedicate himself full-time. Or that it could extend his playing career.
Do three players from the same team following the same model put the GAA on red alert? Or five players?
Given the high finance now needed to support any intercounty team — a record high of over €25m was the official spend by counties in 2017 — the courting of various businessmen and financiers is now a necessity.
How long before a Michael O’Leary-type appears beside a trophy of note on the steps of the Hogan Stand?
Chin is the perfect fit as a brand ambassador