Micheal Clifford on the cock-ups, comedy and confusion in Mayo GAA

In terms of not knowing their ar*e from elbow, Mayo are doing a very convincing impression of the House of Commons, while the crazy call to ban media has seen confusion levels skyrocket...

‘BANNING PRESS MAKES IT LOOK LIKE THERE IS SOMETHING TO HIDE’

THERE are a few common perceptions of our misunderstood profession on which we feel the need to set you straight. The greatest misconception suggests that this is a great gig on the basis we get into games for free, jot down the scores, fire out the copy and then go home and stretch in front of a roaring fire.

We still get asked “and what do you do for the rest of the week?”.

And by the way, getting into games for free never quite feels the same as getting a backstage pass to a Rolling Stones concert, especially when it is a McKenna Cup match in January and you’re occupying the Brewster Park fridge that doubles as a press box.

Another false impression is that we pine to be in the presence of inter-county players because they offer such gregarious company and can’t help but cough up the most salacious of anecdotes.

True story – a friend believed our favoured way of getting ‘the inside line’ was hanging around college campuses and soliciting information from hard-up students on intercounty panels by offering them a €50 note. A couple of things about that – one, hanging out at a college campus waving cash in an attempt to entice company, is likely to lead to a criminal investigation.

The second is, given this industry’s impoverished state, there is a greater chance of a student soliciting us with the promise of money.

The reality is the relationship between them and us has become so sanitised that most times when we interact, it invites a traumatic flashback to a torturously tongue-tied moment at a youth club disco.

But the misconception that grates most is that we are dancing a demented jig of joy when the brown stuff hits the fan. The belief is we try to tease out trouble even where it does not exist because if we don’t get our fix of controversy, our lives would be sad and meaningless.

If you believe that, God help us, you don’t know us at all.

Remember Joe Sheridan’s try/goal in the final play of the 2010 Leinster decider?

Some of our colleagues had to be talked out of leaping from the Croke Park press box as they immediately contemplated weeks of early morning phone calls from editors and late-night board meetings.

We don’t seek trouble, but on the GAA beat it has a way of finding you. Take for example the Mayo County Board’s ongoing and on-thebutton impersonation of the House of Commons where it keeps meeting to discuss a singular issue. However, every sitting finds a new way to avoid a meaningful vote, never mind finding a resolution.

It took a new twist last Monday when they gathered for what was sold as a ‘heart-to-heart’ meeting behind closed doors, only when they arrived they found out that they had actually nothing to talk about.

That became the case because legal correspondence was received on behalf of Tim O’Leary, who remains in a stand-off with the board and refuses to pass on €250,000 raised by his supporters’ foundation, and New York businessman Eugene Rooney, who alleges he is owed money by the board.

With not a whole pile left to do, a lengthy debate took place on a proposal that the one-off ban on media covering the meeting should be extended to become a permanent one. It was passed.

The assumption is that Mayo would not come off so bad if there was less said or read about the current circus.

Indeed. However, it was hardly the media’s fault that the board has met four times – three inside nine days – without the substantive issue being discussed.

It is Michael Healy Rae’s good fortune, given the frequency of these sittings, that he is not a Mayo board delegate or there would not be a funeral in the country attended.

It was a board officer who labelled O’Leary ‘a donkey’ in an official email. And neither was it the fourth estate who decided the playlist at last month’s televised clash with the Underdogs should include Brendan Shine’s ditty Shoe the Donkey for the amusement of the Castlebar crowd.

It is a blessing the board has not branched into the funeral director business, or we fear the deceased would be shouldered out of churches around the county to the strains of ACDC’s Highway to Hell.

Two meetings were called inside four days to decide the result of one vote of confidence.

The next time Jacob Rees-Mogg asks how many Irish men does it take to change a light bulb (we know he hasn’t, give him time), we should draw breath before putting in a call to Joe Duffy to vent our rage.

More than anything, banning the media in the middle of a crisis only fuels speculation that there is something to hide – even if there isn’t. It is utterly self-defeating.

Had the press been admitted to last Monday night’s board meeting (where there was such confusion over the execution of a vote of confidence in the executive that seven clubs took to social media to contradict it), the board would, at least, have endured one less indignity.

But it would appear it is a board devoid of shame, given the statement issued in the aftermath of Thursday night which confirmed that a meeting had taken place and people talked. Seriously.

And the sad thing is that there are some within the board who believe that this non-communications strategy will serve them well, unaware that others are more likely to cite that cruel old line abut how every time a county board meeting takes place, a village misses its idiot.

That is an unfair observation but so is the imposition of a media ban.

The voice of reason was heard in Mayo this week as well (not least by those clubs who took a stance), it just wasn’t loud enough.

The press report what happens because that will always remain the nuts and bolts, no matter how much the industry and profession evolves, of what it does. When it is not allowed do that, misunderstanding and misinformation flourishes.

And that serves none of us well.