Put down your pints and enjoy the game… the beer won’t run out
SOUTH AFRICAN power was a shuddering theme of a riveting Test. But the greatest feat of Springbok dexterity came high up above the field of play, not long into the second half. A large South African supporter, bearing a physique that wouldn’t have seen him out of place in his team’s front row, came in from the concourse into the stadium, stood at the bottom of a steep set of steps, and braced himself.
In his hands, he held four small bottles of wine. It would not have been a surprise to learn he had been at the match on his own. Those little bottles didn’t stand a chance.
Then he set off on his long climb. Given the number of steps ahead of him, there was a fair chance that wine had matured and doubled in value by the time he finally started screwing the caps off. As this slow-moving drama unfolded, a Test match that started slowly was building to a mighty climax behind him.
The thirsty Bok fan wasn’t the only one who missed much of the action. A couple with two small boys spent the game up and down the steps at a rate that would have left Rocky breathless.
By the end of the game, stewards were vainly asking fans not to stand at the mouth of the entrance. Full of beer and bravado, a good number of ignorant eejits insisted on standing rather than trying to find their seats, even though they were hindering the view of other supporters.
On another occasion, a steward politely asked a puffed-up, obnoxious punter not to cut through the press seats on his way back from the bar.
The steward got short shrift, the fan kept his careful grip on three rolling pints and turned to find his company.
It did not require forensic investigation to find evidence of the souring matchday experience at the Aviva Stadium last week.
The scenes may not have been repeated in such numbers at yesterday’s Test against Fiji, given the earlier kick-off. Evening matches invariably attract a thirstier crowd.
Heaven knows what it will be like in six days’ time for the match against Australia, given it kicks off at 8pm. The IRFU must ignore the temptation to install disco lights and suspend a glitterball from the top of the West Stand.
GROWING discontent with the conduct of some supporters is to be welcomed, because it highlights a problem that is affecting the enjoyment of hundreds of others. Finding a way of addressing it is not an intractable conundrum, either; just across the Liffey, Croke Park’s management allows supporters to buy alcohol and drink it in the concourses behind the stands. They are not permitted to bring them to their seats, so those who choose to spend a lot of money on an All-Ireland final ticket and would prefer to drink beer and watch it on a squinting screen are free to do so.
But most don’t choose that silly path, and instead finish their drinks and get back to their seats before the match starts or resumes. There is no reason to believe that those who attend Ireland Test matches wouldn’t do the same.
Beyond the narrow argument about drink, though, is the intriguing issue this raises about the nature of support. There has been some sniffiness about supposed day-trippers who go to big games and are determined to make an occasion of it. These are the fans compared unfavourably to ‘true’ supporters, who are desperate to see all the action. Yet the division is not so neat, and even if the diehard fans deserve to be respected (like all attendees should), the professional game relies on the occasional supporter, too. In a cost-of-living squeeze where money is increasingly scarce, there are engaged fans who can only afford to go to one or two matches a year.
This transient support is vital; without it, there would be no full stadia and the professional game would struggle to keep going in Ireland.
Accepting this still seems difficult for a traditional rump within Irish rugby, but they provide the cash, by going to the odd Test, and the big provincial matches, that keeps the game functioning. That needs to be accepted, as does the fact that sport is about entertainment, too. Attending a sporting event shouldn’t be like a rigorous internal examination, with the opening whistle akin to the fateful snap of a rubber glove. Entertainment isn’t a pejorative word. Neither is respect. Put down the pints. Enjoy the match.
The beer won’t run out.