The secret of turning also-rans into medallists, in one colourful lesson
‘IHAVE a theory.’ These four words were met with loud scraping sounds as chairs were pushed back from the kitchen table and our offspring made their exit. Eldrick suddenly remembered a football left out in the dew on the Rolling Acres. Young Persephone mumbled something about needing to touch up eyebrows in the privacy of her own bedroom. Which left Hermione, dear, long-suffering Hermione, as a one-woman audience privileged to receive the latest insight into the workings our times.
‘I have theory.’
Hermione has gamely nodded her head supportively down the years while her husband parsed and analysed the underlying changes and trends in society. She has loyally yes-dear’ed as he held forth on subjects as diverse as teaching English (make Agatha Christie whodunits compulsory for the Leaving Cert) to global warming (pay civil servant mileage expenses in reverse proportion to the size of their car engines). She has learned how Fianna Fáil is the Zanu-PF of Irish politics and why it was inevitable that The Beatles would break up.
‘I have a theory.’
‘Wonderful,’ responded Hermione. ‘Do you mind if I wash the dishes while you share your theory with me?’
‘You fire ahead, sweetest.’
As she ran the hot water, I asked her why our national hockey team has proven suddenly capable of winning World Cup medals.
‘They have some great players in the team,’ mused Hermione. ‘That Shirley McCay one is a great bit of stuff.’ Aha! But McCay has been in the side for twelve seasons. Why is it only now in 2018 that she her skill and her spirit have been rewarded? In three previous attempts, Shirley and her comrades never qualified for World Cups, let alone reaching the final.
‘The coach, yer man Graham Shaw, seems to have the knack of getting them to perform,’ suggested Hermione as she worked at removing stubborn egg yolk from a plate. Aha! But Shaw is no Messiah. You should have seen his charges at the European championships just a year ago. They were terrible, performing like a bunch of frightened kittens.
Something has clearly changed. There has been some tipping point. Some factor has given our girls an edge they never had before. Irish women have been playing hockey for more than a century. Never before have they made such a dramatic impact. Why this breakthrough in London, apparently out of the blue?
Out of the blue! There you have it. The pitch at the Lee Valley Stadium is a lurid shade of blue. The blue-ness of the astroturf must have been crucial.
Here’s the theory. Since time immemorial, Ireland has been sending teams togged out in green to play on green pitches. On this occasion the Green Army, as they call themselves, was engaged in battle on a blue pitch. Instead of being green-on-green shadows, our women stood out against the blue background in way they never did when they were in effect camouflaged. No wonder Irish passing was crisper and more effective than ever before. It was simply easier for players to pick each other out. Obvious really.
The drive to the final hinged on their ability to beat India, a country with an enormous hockey playing population and a higher ranking in the sport. But the Indians, for all their skills, were a side dressed in blue playing on a blue pitch.
Not only did Ireland have the plus of being able to spot each other more easily but they also had the added bonus of meeting opponents operating in a blue twilight. Hockey rewards high visibility as the outcome of the recent World Cup illustrated when it was won by a Netherlands side wearing a dashing shade of orange.
Talk to the editor of any glossy magazine, who will tell you that a red cover or a yellow cover makes their product stand out on the shelf at the newsagent. Mix red and yellow and what do you get? Orange. Dazzling and distinctive orange.
The Dutch have no copyright on orange. Maybe the Irish Hockey Association should consider adopting orange for all future strips – and play important games on July 12.