Ulster yawn shows the GAA needs to wake up
THE business end of the All-Ireland Football series is fast approaching, with just 12 teams now remaining.With Kerry seeing off Tipperary some time ago in Munster, the three remaining provincial championships were concluded on Sunday last.
For the second year running Dublin saw off the plucky challenge of Westmeath to become Leinster kingpins in yet another one-sided affair. This ongoing procession in the province is doing nothing for Gaelic football outside the capital and has now seen the Dubs win 12 of the last 13 titles. Their dominance appears to be growing by the year, with margins of victory showing no sign of abating. It’s difficult to see how any county can even begin to bridge this widening chasm.
Following replays Galway and Tyrone prevailed in Connacht and Ulster respectively in two hugely contrasting games. The Tribesmen were very impressive over in the west as they thumped Roscommon by 14 points in a very one-sided contest to claim their first title since 2008.
Kevin Walsh has them in great shape at the moment and there’s not a better county to watch when they play that sort of free-flowing, attacking football. They will fancy their chances of progressing further, but their innocence and naivety could be ruthlessly exploited by others as the summer progresses.
Tyrone, on the other hand, saw off Donegal in a dreadful encounter up in Clones for their first victory in Ulster in six years.
This was modern-day football at its very worst. My dad, who is a great lover of Gaelic football, said it was without doubt the worst he has ever witnessed and by halftime he could bear no more.
He actually found himself flicking between channels and even confessed to watching some of the golf because he found it more exciting. Anyone who knows my dad will know he has no great grá for either golf or the British Open.
While close contests like this may be exciting for the two individual sets of supporters, it is a complete turn-off for everyone else. An abomination, if you like, of the game we once knew. An orgy of handpassing, little or no kicking, reverse passing, no high fielding, passing back to the keeper, hardly a decent physical challenge …. This is not the game €20 on Wings of Desire at 8/1 in Saturday’s Kiing George at Ascot. I aspired to as a young child.
The experts in Croke Park tell us there is nothing wrong with the current state of the game and it is merely in transition as ‘smart coaches’ take it in different directions. Well, Mr Duffy and friends, I have news for you. The sport is in grave danger at present. If it continues down this road then very soon nobody will be watching it. The lawmakers must now intervene before things go completely off the rails.
A perfect storm is now brewing in Gaelic football. When you add up the issues of player burnout, an unwillingness to commit to intercounty panels, the awful lop-sided mismatches, falling provincial and qualifier attendances and falling revenues, you begin to see a game that is in crisis. And that is without even considering the ills of the club scene.
The GAA may be in rude health in the capital, but it’s about time GAA officialdom took its head out of the sand and realised what’s happening elsewhere.
Maybe this Ulster final was a blessing in disguise. Sometimes things have to really plummet to rock bottom before the penny finally drops. The time for remedial action is urgently upon us.
Fortunately I was subjected to merely the highlights on the Sunday Game as we were out and about entertaining an 11-year-old Spanish student from San Sebastian who is staying with us at the moment.
The weather has been pretty poor so far during Luis’ visit, so last weekend’s sunshine was a welcome opportunity to get outdoors and experience the County Louth countryside.
Maybe I’m a little biased because my paternal grandfather hails from there, but when the sun shines there are very few places in Ireland to compare with the Cooley peninsula.
The climb from Ravensdale up past the Poc Fada course to Annaverna, the amazing panoramic views from the summit, the vista from Flagstaff across to Warrenpoint and the Mournes, Omeath for a cool ‘99’ and onto Carlingford to walk it off, and then home by Gyles Quay for a quick dip in the tide.
Normally you would come across car radios blaring out coverage of championship games no matter what the location, but I don’t recall hearing one single radio commentary last Sunday afternoon. Perhaps we’ve all subconsciously footed with our feet …