THOU SHALT NOT HAVE FUN

David Brady’s comments about Gaoth Dobhair in the aftermath of their defeat to Corofin tells you everything about the joylessness that pervades the modern game

WE don’t how well Oscar Wilde is received among the chattering classes of Ballina, but we suspect he has yet to crack the Gaoth Dobhair market.

That was David Brady’s misfortune as he went into full Wilde mode last Saturday evening, evoking the literary giant’s self depreciating plea to be understood.

‘I am so clever that sometimes I don’t understand a single word of what I am saying,’ Wilde once quipped, but alas for Brady (below left) he is not quite as fleet of wit when it comes to delivering that punchline.

Instead of scratching his quill, Brady, no doubt in keeping with the tone of what he was about to write, pursed his lips and steepled his fingers before punching both his smart phone and Gaoth Dobhair’s sensitivities in the aftermath of their AllIreland semifinal defeat to Corofin.

‘They will when the dust settles & time passes in a quiet moment ask did they pass up the opportunity of a lifetime. Was there anything they could have done extra?’ tweeted Brady.

‘Posting multiple piss ups won’t win you an All-Ireland and that’s not what winning is about,’ he added.

But the cultural heathens that they are in Teach Mhici, Brady’s contemporary take on Wilde went straight over their heads and all they heard was a former Mayo footballer pouring scorn on their community.

No pursed lips then for Kevin Cassidy (above right) just a pulsating vein as he came charging right back with the kind of shuddering hit that had served him so well in a man-of-the-match performance earlier that afternoon.

‘Shut the f**k up I’m not even a midfielder and I would still take you to the f**king cleaners you muppet. And I would ram that basketball armband up your a**e. My club my people,’ was Cassidy’s rather direct response.

Even allowing for the industrial nature of the language – something Cassidy subsequently apologised for in his Gaelic Life column during the week – a quick gauge of social media confirmed that if a twit had emerged from that tweeting joust, it was Brady who was left wearing the silly hat.

The consensus was that far from admitting that he did not have a clue of what he was talking about, Brady was in fact stressing the Importance of Being Earnest. In that, he is not alone. We live in a GAA world where there is far more talking the talk than walking the walk. Where once there was a couple of sheets of newspaper print and the odd radio or TV interview, we now live in an age where the studio panel are the stars and the game merely the subject on which to shine; where there are more pundits, podcasts and pulpits, and all of them demanding opinions and fresh takes.

And in sucking so much from the well of good sense, we can’t feign surprise when sometimes all that can be dregged up is plain crazy.

It’s rare to find anyone who thinks that Brady had reason on his side as Gaoth Dobhair’s naked joy at winning a first ever Ulster title before Christmas.

We kind of suspected it went on behind closed doors, but here was Cassidy and the boys drinking in all that joy and posting it for their and our amusement.

If you haven’t seen it, you should go watch some of those clips. If you didn’t have your funny bone tickled with their ‘calling out’ of Corofin, it might be best if you go see a neurologist.

However, in the serious world of ‘Opinion Land’ there is no time or space for such tomfoolery.

You could argue that the reason Gaoth Dobhair lost last weekend was because they were simply beaten by one of the best club teams to ever play the game.

Or if you want to dig a little deeper, you could suggest that their failure to get the right matchup on Ian Burke, who set up the all important second goal, was their undoing.

But why do that when you have two-month-old evidence of grown men drinking a scatter of pints and unashamedly enjoying themselves.

You see, if you are a serious team these days, there is no place for that.

Cassidy, the McGees and their bunch of merry men would have served themselves far better had they crammed into a mini bus, climbed Croagh Patrick barefooted, then headed on to Lough Derg to feast on dry toast and black tea for three days, until they had purged the last of the joy out of their guilty hearts.

Then at the post-match press conference on St Patrick’s Day, with the Andy Merrigan Cup on the table beside him filled to the brim with holy water, Cassidy could have fed us that anecdote as evidence of the sacrifice they had made to bring this thing home.

And we would have nodded our heads, quizzed him on his spiritual fulfilment and feigned wonder at just how high they had ‘raised the bar’ to win a game of ball.

We only half jest. The truth is that we have become so accustomed to poker-faced champions telling us that the key is the process that we forget that this thing is supposed to be about fun and joy.

But the way the analysis narrative is written now, only losers are in it for the fun.

Winners wear hair shirts and faces as colourless as that nutritional drink they are sucking on.

Really, we could all do with copping ourselves on.