Enough whinging. If you want a break, take it the Rory way
RORY O’CARROLL did not have to tunnel his way to freedom. There have been no reports of knotted bed-sheets used in his escape. He undertook no stinking crawl to liberty like Andy Dufresne’s wriggle out of Shawshank.
O’Carroll exercised the right to think for himself available to 26-year-olds in the western world – even those who play inter-county Gaelic games. It was cheering news, not for Dublin’s rivals or opposition forwards who have been shut down by O’Carroll in the past, but for those of us who believe there is still room for individualism and independent spirit in hurling and football.
There are times when you wondered if it was still the case.
From January to December, the trials of an inter-county career are recounted in detail. The gruelling, relentless training sessions are reported as if they were military manoeuvres in Pyongyang.
The weeks and months players go without nights out are counted out as if they were prison days. The privations endured by the best in our indigenous sports are constantly recorded.
This growing trend in reducing inter-county careers, which were life-long dreams once upon a time, to self-sacrificing miseries, prompts one question: Why bother?
They bother because they are among the most privileged men in the country. Through the summer months they get to live experiences millions of us can only nurse as lifelong dreams. They are idols to boys and girls in their counties, and to men and women, too.
They enjoy profiles that sometimes result in commercial opportunities and that often strengthen their employment possibilities. They compete for places in a history that stretches back over a century and that has always placed the country’s outstanding hurlers and footballers in a prominent place.
Even those toiling with counties that are a million miles away from provincial wins, let alone September success, are on a pedestal within their local place. In an Ireland that has been sometimes convulsed by change since the GAA was established 132 years ago, the power of a county jersey has stayed constant.
That is a remarkable fact. It has often been claimed over the past decade that the GAA is the one certainty in Irish life that has stayed fixed in an age of often bewildering flux. Credit for that must mainly go to the players. They are the great attraction, the valuable asset.
With their status comes pressure. The GPA has highlighted the stresses players can endure. Meath goalkeeper Paddy O’Rourke was threatened last summer by a clown on Twitter after Westmeath beat his team in the Leinster Championship.
Younger players are stretched by competing demands and welfare concerns must be promptly addressed. These issues are genuine but there is a value in reminding ourselves that their lives are more good than bad – and when that balance tilts, they are free to take corrective action.
There has been no suggestion that O’Carroll found playing for Dublin a burden, but his decision to take a year away shows players have a choice. Colm Galvin took a break from hurling with Clare last summer, Jamie Clarke of Armagh is said to be planning a return to America, and Emlyn Mulligan travelled the world after stepping out of Leitrim’s squad in 2015.
A sabbatical is not the only way out. Some choose to walk away, worn out, disillusioned or busy. Managers wield unprecedented power now but none of them, as far as we know, are so controlling that they confiscate passports, work clothes or college books; players can choose another way.
AND the evidence is that the vast majority of them will not. Mulligan has returned to Leitrim’s seeming impossible pursuit of another Connacht title, and in the higher reaches of the Championship there is evidence of players’ willingness to accommodate great expectations.
The Galway hurlers and Mayo footballers consciously put themselves in the way of criticism, hostility and scorn last winter by demanding management teams that could match their ambitions. This was not the behaviour of frazzled automatons, but a sign that bright, bold young people, who are devoting a large part of their lives to a passion, want to have their hunger sated.
It indicated what we already knew: footballers and hurlers are not doing this with guns pressed against their heads. They choose to do so; most would do nothing else.
As important as it is to acknowledge and alleviate any stresses in their lives, it must be accepted, too, that they are living out the dreams of the rest of us.
Sure they work hard, but as Kieran McGeeney said this time last year, a person whose recreational activity is triathlons is probably training more times in a week than elite players are.
‘To have that type of focus and passion for something in your life is important because most of us can have a very mundane existence,’ he said of the inter-county life.
He would know. McGeeney made flesh the fantasy. He stood on the top step of the Hogan Stand and he lifted the Sam Maguire.
Most players will never do that, but they will train and strain to represent their county anyway. Even without silverware, it is a rare and beautiful honour. What’s more, you can choose not to pursue it.
EXCUSES are not catered for in the high performance centre opened at the Institute of Sport in Dublin this week.
It is a marvellous facility where the mix of science and inspiration appears encouraging. For instance, the rehabilitation area is separated from the gym area by a glass wall, thus showing recuperating athletes that recovery is merely one part of their training routine.
The better the facilities, the less room there is for excuses when it comes to our high-performing stars, which is presumably how they like it. They made do with dismal conditions for long enough.