Jim says it best when he says nothing at all
IM Gavin is the master of saying nothing at all. He comes in before or after a match, sits down at his desk and, with the array of dictaphones and microphones pointed in his direction, says absolutely nothing of any interest to anybody. And don’t get us wrong here, that’s absolutely his right.
If Jim Gavin thinks the best thing for him and for his team is to keep things as close to the vest as possible then more power to him. It’s not his job to make life easy or interesting for us sports scribblers.
He’s courteous, he’s polite, he listens intently to whatever he’s just been asked and then, more often than not, he talks about what he wants to talk about. He talks about processes and facilitation and before long you begin to wonder whether you’ve somehow stumbled into Bank of Ireland’s third quarterly report by mistake instead of a post-match briefing.
Behind the scenes Gavin is, no doubt, a passionate man. In front of the cameras and the press, however, he’s tightly controlled, measured and dare we say – and we don’t mean this pejoratively – calculated.
Perhaps that’s why his comments last weekend have left so many scratching their heads. Is this evidence of a man playing three dimensional chess, using the press to his own ends? Or the first evidence we’ve had of the real Gavin?
It could be a little of both. Still it feels more like a gaffe than a calculated decision to manipulate the media to drive an agenda, if only for the simple reason that the Diarmuid Connolly thing was case closed, done and dusted until Gavin reopened it again.
Some commentators have suggested it might even be an attempt to forge a siege mentality. With Dublin chasing the three in-a-row, maybe they need something different to keep them motivated... it’s a stretch we’ll grant you.
More likely it’s an example of misplaced anger. Where Jim Gavin should be annoyed at Connolly for doing something exceptionally unwise if not downright stupid, he instead lashes out at the media and the pundits for having the temerity to highlight what his player did.
In his statement
Gavin suggests that Connolly’s good name was
“affected” by the comment around the incident. That’s a claim that really doesn’t stand up to much scrutiny, especially not when applied to what Pat Spillane said on The Sunday Game.
Spillane highlighted the incident – he could hardly do otherwise, the entire country was talking about it – read from the rulebook and suggested that Connolly would likely face a suspension as a result of the incident. Gavin spun this was some sort of slightly sinister sounding “pre-determined statement”. What complete and utter tosh. Do you want a pundit who does his homework, looks at the rule-book or one who spit-balls off the top of his head?
Sky flashing up the rule-book on Saturday evening in the immediate aftermath of the match seemed to really vex the Dublin manager. It’s as if he thinks without Sky doing that – and Spillane saying what he said – Connolly wouldn’t have been in any hot water.
That attitude reminds us a little bit of Scooby Doo – and we would have gotten away with it too if it wasn’t for those pesky kids (for kids read pundits). Remembering all the while, of course, that Gavin said he didn’t condone what Connolly did and that Connolly accepted his mistake and suspension.
George Cartwright, the chairman of the CCCC, meanwhile firmly rejected the suggestion in an interview on Morning Ireland that
The Sunday Game tail was wagging the GAA disciplinary dog.
Gavin’s arguments were so riven with holes and inconsistencies – in our judgement at least – that it’s hard to sustain the idea that this is some sort of master-plan on his part. It might have been deliberate, if ill-advised, but that he was acting out in simple pique does seem a much more straight-forward explanation.
If we’re to go by the principle of Occam’s razor – whereby the simplest solution is the more likely one – then this begins to look more and more like a misstep by the Clondalkin Round Towers man.
The last thing Dublin should want or need as they push for a famous third All Ireland title in succession is for a circus to break out and this entire Connolly affair – fuelled again by Gavin last weekend – has been a circus. It’s broadly reminiscent of the Paul Galvin affair from nine years ago. It’s not a direct parallel of course, but there are broad similarities. Instead of hitting the notebook out of the referee’s hand, Connolly pushed the linesman.
The Dublin fans now have reacted the same way as the Kerry fans did then. Backing their boy come hell or high water. The big point of difference is how the two managers reacted to it.
From what we re-call – and it would be in keeping with the man – Pat O’Shea was dignified throughout it all, focussing instead on what he could influence. On Sunday evening Gavin sounded a hell of a lot more like a wound up fan than the cool, calm and collected manager we long thought him to be.
For good or ill he’s now made his move. It’ll be fascinating to see how it all plays out.