Pride comes before a fall for our country
WHEN IRELAND captain Ciarán Fitzgerald mouthed the immortal words ‘where’s your f**king pride?’ to rally the troops to overcome England to clinch the Triple Crown in 1985, it struck a chord with many.
In the days before rugby turned professional, well before the rise of the Irish provinces, it was all about the love of the jersey, and the pure unbridled joy of playing for your country was there for all to see.
International sport is totally unrecognisable from what it was in the days of heaving, decrepit stands and muddy pitches, some changes for the better and some not so much.
A large dollop of that raw, tearyeyed emotion has seeped from sport and the connection between fans and players has been diluted immeasurably over the years.
Nationalism, Irishness and what it means has been very much in the public eye in recent days, with the emotive commemoration of the 100th anniversary of Bloody Sunday in Croke Park opening the eyes of many who might have been in the dark about the atrocity which saw 14 innocent people lose their lives.
That fitting tribute to the fallen came after a week when we had to listen to a great deal of nonsense about an apparently ‘offensive’ video that Ireland manager Stephen Kenny showed his players.
Whether that kind of motivational tool is needed in modern football is another matter, but if you’re offended when staring at the unfettered history of a nation in the whites of the eyes, the truth is you probably shouldn’t be lining out for that country in the first place.
It seems the players weren’t particularly bothered by the three-minute montage, so it was mostly just a case of shit being stirred and much ado about nothing.
You don’t have to be born and reared in a particular country to pull on their international shirt, but at the very least a player should have an emotional connection and understanding and a sense of place.
Full disclosure here, I was born in England myself to parents from the Emerald Isle and lived across the water for the first five years of my life.
It irks me slightly when some say your nationality is purely based on where you were born, because I have never considered myself to be anything other than one hundred per cent Irish.
It’s as much a state of mind as anything else and that’s where my allegiance lies, and always has.
There’s no mistaking my Irish brogue, given that I’ve spent most of my life on these shores, but there’s plenty who have lined out for the national football team with a cockney twang or Liverpudlian
lilt and have worn the jersey with immense pride.
That’s all fans want. Players that buy into the ethos of the country and are there for the right reasons.
Despite our obvious need for players of their calibre, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest that Declan Rice and Jack Grealish switched allegiance to the auld enemy as their English roots obviously have a firmer grip in the soil than their Irish ones, and it’s their choice to make.
There’s still those moaning that they should have been handed caps to tie them to Ireland, but we should only want players who are fully committed to the cause, not ones using us as a rung on the ladder to further their careers.
That attitute is prevalent in
rugby as players from the likes of New Zealand, Australia and South Africa follow the money trail in Europe.
The so-called ‘granny’ rule is one thing, where there’s at least a connection to the country, but the residency rule flies in the face of what international sport should be about.
However, the IRFU have embraced the opportunity it brings, with a third of Ireland’s starting selection against England qualifying as ‘project’ players.
Even the word project sounds clinical and manufactured, something that’s as far removed from the pride and passion of playing for your country as you can get.
We pride ourselves in being a welcoming nation and that is cer
tainly something we should strive to be, but we’re not talking about people in need here, it’s motivated purely by money to the detriment of homegrown talent.
The ridiculous ‘Team of Us’ tagline is wearing thinner by the day and, although the commitment of players like CJ Stander and Bundee Aki can’t be faulted, it does raise questions about what direction the game is going in.
Pulling on the green jersey should be the fulfilment of a boyhood dream, not a career choice.
Down the line young players who yearn to play for their country may find their pathway blocked by mercenaries and that would be a crying shame.
Where’s your f**king pride indeed.