Why did sports at school turn vicious?
THERE are few things more likely to cause the parental heart to heave with pride than the sight of our children winning at sport. Just watch parents holler for their children on sports day and you can see the raw and primitive joy we take from watching the person who was once our helpless little baby take on their opponents vigorously and throw their heart and soul into the race.
Rightly or wrongly, for most of us athletic prowess, far more than academic distinction, is a sign that a child is blessed and has the skills to cope with the vicissitudes of life. But the heady rush of pride and joy can also be laced with fear, because as every parents knows, sport carries risk.
There is not a man who has played hurling at competitive schoolboy level who doesn’t bear some war wounds. There may be the signs of his knuckles being broken from hurls bearing down on him, just as the guy who played football might have a permanent bump on his nose – the legacy of a violent tackle or scrum.
There are also more serious injuries – broken limbs, concussions and blackouts that call for stretchers and ambulances and for parents to look on in anguish as their child is pummelled within an inch of their life. We are learning more of the lifelong effects of severe injuries – the brain damage that may cause depression, behavioural problems and Alzheimer’s. And that’s before we get to physical disabilities.
Mother Karen Walton described on Prime Time recently the experience of seeing her 14-year-old son turn into a zombie during a game of rugby and then fall to the ground unconscious.
She hung her head in misery as she described how Benjamin staggered across the pitch after he collided with another player, clutching his head repeatedly, a dazed look on his face.
‘I thought to myself, “This is only schoolboy rugby. Benjamin shouldn’t be like this; he should be taken off,”’ she said tearfully.
But Benjamin stayed on the pitch for 25 minutes after the collision, as the referee and coaches were oblivious to his injuries – unlike his frantic mother whose gut instinct told her something was seriously wrong.
Tragedies like this have helped raise awareness of concussion and forced schools to develop policies to make sports safer.
Earlier this year, Lucas Neville won €2.75m for brain injuries caused by rugby. At training he received an accidental knee in the head but he was brought on as a sub for the second team a few weeks later. His mother told the court about the headaches and eye pain Lucas suffered after the first concussion and how she brought him back to hospital for another opinion. After the second blow he was transferred to the high-dependency unit in Beaumont and given the Last Rites.
The ordeal has left Lucas with lifelong brain injury.
SPORTS may be an integral part of school life – and essential for fitness – but top-level contact sports have been allowed to become vicious and dangerous. When I was at school, admittedly in the Neolithic period, we ran onto the hockey pitch with, at the very most, some flimsy shin guards for protection. The hockey girls of today have shin guards, mouth guards and masks for taking corners.
Schoolboys bulk up and spend hours every day working on strength and conditioning. Thirty years ago the average schools senior ruby team was an even mixture of brawny big guys and wiry lads who were fast on their feet. Today they look like Michelin men.
The answer for parents cannot be to wrap children in cottonwool. I know mothers who have dissuaded their sons from rugby because of the risks but I know just as many who love the game and encourage them to be as good as possible.
In a week when Australian cricketer Phillip Hughes had his head split open by a cricket ball during a match and later died from bleeding in his brain, it’s hard not to concede that protective parents may have a point.
But is it wise to expect teenagers to compete at the limits of human endurance and to survive blows that would fell lesser mortals, particularly when their bodies and brains are not developed to withstand enormous impact? Surely not.
GAA and rugby are part of our culture but playing safely is not. Perhaps teaching youngsters how to avoid damaging themselves on the pitch, rather than producing superman players, should be our priority.