It’s time hurling called foul on blight of cynicism
HURLING has never been as skilful —- nor as deliberately cynical. Take the weekend of the Bloody Sunday commemorations in November as a snapshot of where the game is at, a Saturday when the All-Ireland quarterfinals unfolded on the same afternoon as the Ireland rugby team took on England at Twickenham.
Galway versus Tipperary produced a free-scoring thriller and Waterford versus Clare continued in the same vein to the extent that the scoring was running at a staggering rate of nearly a point a minute.
So much of all that is good about the modern game was on view – the outrageous skill levels, the electric pace, the semi- professional type f i tness and strength and conditioning of the players, the shooting accuracy and ever-increasing distance on the strike.
And yet if there was a moment that Tipperary’s chances of retaining the All-Ireland for the first time since 1964-65 went up in smoke, it came in the 70th minute when the 2019 Hurler of the Year Seamus Callanan careered through the centre. The player who set a record in scoring a goal in all of his team’s eight Championship games the previous season had only one thing on his mind. And to nobody’s surprise, the chasing Galway player Adrian Tuohey also had only one thing on hi s mind: s t op t hat goalscoring opportunity.
So, like so many other players in the same Championship, he made no attempt to play the ball but simply rugby-tackled Callanan to the ground. He was emboldened to do so because hurling doesn’t have a 10-minute sin bin like Gaelic football for deliberate cynical play. Tuohey took the customary yellow card on the chin, goalkeeper Brian Hogan came the length of the field to see the subsequent free tipped over the bar and Galway hung on to win by two points.
Meanwhile, over at Twickenham, England winger Jonny May ran the length of the field to touch down against Ireland. Barely a hand was laid on him.
It was easy to assume he wouldn’t have got half as far on a hurling field before he was tackled to the ground.
Peter Stringer is the holder of the most famous ankle tap in Irish sport – his diving tackle on Dan Luger in 2001 depriving England of the Gram Slam by being critical to Ireland’s victory at Lansdowne Road. Well, who would have imagined that hurling has become so deliberately cynical that the ankle tap — or clatter across the ankles with a hurley — could be debated for inclusion to add to the 150 classified separate skills. That’s how Cork’s Robert Downey tripped up Waterford’s Shane Bennett in the group stage of the 2019 Munster Championship; how Danny Sutcliffe tripped Laois’ Paddy Purcell in the Leinster quarter-final in October as he raced into space inside the Dublin ’45; how Meath full-back Shane Brennan brought down Carlow full-forward Kevin McDonald in the Joe McDonagh Cup.
In February of last year, GAA Congress voted overwhelmingly against a motion to introduce the black card to hurling.
‘It would be as welcome in Antrim as Joe Brolly on The Sunday Game,’ declared Antrim’s Ciarán McCavana as the proposal was roundly defeated, getting just 18 per cent support.
‘We believe hurling is a great game. It’s a manly game, played in a sporting way. I would urge people to keep what is good. Not try and fix what isn’t broken.’
‘We have the most beautiful, fluid game,’ declared Kilkenny chairman Jimmy Walsh.
‘Where a five, seven, or ninepoint lead can be turned around in an instant. What has the made the game of hurling so attractive and unique.
‘I ask all here present not to complicate and ruin the game with more rules and regulations. Let the players play. And let us spectators enjoy this UNESCO accredited spectacle.’
When Séamus Hickey of the Gaelic Players Association outlined the level of opposition from members, it was all over.
‘We polled 1,116 hurlers from 35 Championship squads. Almost 100 per cent response rate. Eighty-nine per cent of players are against this motion.
‘Players expressed that there is no desire to introduce another subjective rule interpretation between them and the referee.’
But this is where we are again with the GAA’s Standing Committee on Playing Rules returning with another version of same for February’s planned Congress.
It’s a version where a deliberate cynical foul to deprive a goalscoring opportunity will result in a yellow card and 10-minute sin bin for the offending player and a penalty for the attacking team. That’s even if it happened outside the standard penalty area of the large rectangle that extends to the 13-metre line.
‘If we do not implement some form of deterrent to cynical play, we are only making provision for more.’ David Hasson’s warning fell on deaf ears at last year’s Congress, delegates ignoring the claims of the chairman of the committee.
There are none so blind as those who will not see.
This year’s winter Championship bore his warning out with the level of deliberate cynicism.
His committee brought a recommendation based on very real statistical analysis by GaelicStats covering 20 games in the 2019 Championship. It all confirmed an ugly truth about the modern game: cynical fouling is clearly a factor. Taking a match average of 26 fouls, it found that just under half of those fouls (12), were deemed to be cynical in nature. The full analysis also included a total of 29 so-called professional fouls, best characterised by ‘the dragging down of a forward’ in a goalscoring situation.
T WO years ago, this column pointed out this in convenient truth, stating how hurling is having its Seán Cavanagh moment – every single weekend. That infamous rugby tackle in August 2013 by Tyrone’s threetime All-Ireland winner on Monaghan’s finisher supreme Conor McManus became forever associated with the introduction of the black card in football.
How the deterrent for cynical foul play in hurling, as it stands, is not effective. And so here we are — again. For the most part, the game is in a brilliant place.
Hurling has never been as skilful. Look at the reverse handpass of Gearóid Hegarty to play in Peter Casey against Clare; Richie Hogan playing the role of conjuror with a sublime flicked goal in the Leinster final; Stephen Bennett’s mesmerising run and point that covered half the length of the f i nal i n the All- Ireland semi-final.
But for all of Limerick’s enduring quality, the sight of potential All- Star midfielder William O’Donoghue r ugby- t ackling Stephen Bennett to deny Waterford a late goal-scoring opportunity in the All-Ireland final was unedifying and captured how the players are generally a step ahead of the rule book.
In the space of this year’s Championship alone, there has been a sea-change in attitude from those involved with Waterford manager Liam Cahill admitting post final that he now sees a need for a sinbin and new form of punishment.
Nobody wants to see any diminution in the game’s physicality or the collisions, that raw, warrior element. To have the sound turned down on any heavy metal hurling, as Jurgen Klopp might say.
But the integrity of the game is also worth protecting.
Worth legislating for.