Sunday, September 7, 2008

Leinster Cats

Today Kilkenny signed off on the tenth championship campaign of Brian Cody's reign as manager with their sixth All-Ireland title since the start of the century, and their thirty first overall. The ten years under Cody have been remarkable for many reasons, including Kilkenny's first three-in-a row since before Jim Larkin's lockout, Kilkenny's first ever possession of the title of exclusive leader of hurling's roll of honour (a title Cork held since they passed Tipperary in the middle year of their most recent triplet of titles in the late 1970's), the accumulation of the joint highest score in a hurling final (3-30 today matched Cork's 6-21 in 1970, although Cork did have an extra 10 minutes to build their tally in the first 80 minute All-Ireland final), the most savage beating on All-Ireland final day since 1896 (today's 23 point excess fell short of Dublin's deficit when they managed only 0-4 in response to Tipperary's impressive 8-14), and finally the first occasion of one county taking six titles in a calendar decade (Cork picked up Liam McCarthy 5 times in the 1940's helped by future Taoiseach Jack Lynch and legend Christy Ring).

All incredible achievements which legitimatly lead to calls for this team to be recognised as the best of all time, and who, in fairness could argue with that.

I write this short note, however, in defence of the Leinster Hurling Championship, a championship whose death is called for on the basis that it is dominated by one county - Kilkenny having won all but one of the Leinster =Championships in Cody's 10 year spell in charge. It is true that Kilkenny rarely lose in Leinster, but then it should also be clear from the first paragraph above that Kilkenny rarely lose at all. Comparisons with the Munster Championship are unfair - no one ever called for its abolition when it was dominated by one team as it was by Cork when they won 10 of the 12 Munster titles between 1975 and 1986. Certainly the Munster Championship is more competitive, but then Kilkenny don't participate in that particular competition. If they did then their national domination would probably be repeated in the southern province. During Cody's 10 years Kilkenny have only been beaten in Championship on two occasions by Munster teams (both times were against Cork on All-Ireland final day - 1999 and 2004). Kilkenny have lost three other Championship matches in that time - to Galway in the All-Ireland semi-finals of 2001 and 2005, and to Wexford in the Leinster semi-final in 2004. Kilkenny have beaten Munster teams on 14 occasions over that time. Fourteen! Four times Kilkenny beat Cork, four times thay beat Clare, twice that beat Limerick, twice for Waterford, and twice for Tipperary. There is little validity then in the argument that the Leinster Championship is for the scrap heap unless the same argument is made for the All-Ireland championship - which of course it could not be.

Critics argue that the remaining teams in Leinster don't make for a competition that is as strong as Munster's version, but it should also be noted that of the 54 ties between Leinster and Munster teams in the past 10 championships the Leinster team has won on 19 occasions - 35% of the time. Definitely a minority, but hardly a startling domination by Munster.

Next year may well see the introduction of teams from outside Leinster into the Leinster Hurling Championship. So be it. For the purposes of hurling development it is interesting to see changes made over time - we have seen this for some time with the format of the qualifiers. Let it be seen as that however, not as a concession to those who rate Munster hurling above that of the eastern province. Leinster hurling is strong and dominated. Munster hurling is strong and balanced.

Next year brings novelty and experimentation in the format of the championship, but likely no change in the outcome. The winners will be from Leinster, and they'll be wearing black and amber.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Going for Gold?

Someone rang in to a Dublin radio station suggesting that Gaelic Football be considered for inclusion in future Olympic Games. The caller was Irish, living in China and competing with a selection of expatriates and foreigners in the All-Asian games - in Gaelic sports. What chance, I wondered, would we Irish have of winning gold in the Olympic Games were Gaelic Football and Hurling to be included. Hurling, undoubtedly, would represent our best shot at taking gold - such are the skills required for the sport that only those living and breathing the game in stronghold counties ever possess any chance of medals in our own country - it would be an impossibility for any other country to take us on in this sport. Football, however, is a different ball game altogether. Football is, and always will be, a game for strong men. True, skill makes a difference, but not so substantial a difference that a team of well built foreigners couldn't take on our own. Football is so similar in fact to other sports - all the obvious ones - that I'd reckon that our lads would in no way be assured of podium positioning if a rich selection of foreign countries were to invest a few years in getting their lads up to scratch. Not so for our hurlers though.

The Australians, when their native sport was catching on, immediately set sights on international expansion. The early game spread from Victoria to other colonies on their continent, to South Australia (where, interestingly, the goal posts took a shape like the future [and current] Gaelic posts), New South Wales as well as New Zealand. At the time, however, even the trip across the Tasman couldn't be considered international, but their attempted invasion of the US most certainly could. The Australians attempted through correspondence to get their game to influence British sports, though as Britons in the south perhaps even that couldn't be considered international. Perhaps also their excursions to the States could be put on a par with our own ill-fated adventure of 1888.

However, in the modern era the Australians have sought to have their game taken on in Asia, Africa and elsewhere, with a recognition that foreign fields can provide rich ground for recruitment. The franchise structure of the Australian game represents a clear difference from our own, as does the environment in Australia where multiple cultures and national groups have long been part of their sport. Maybe this has given them an advantage in internationalising their game, or maybe they just want it more. Maybe we don't want it at all - remembering that for its 12 decades the GAA has been as much about asserting Irishness, culturally and politically, as it has been about sporting competition.

Consider this example: if Gaelic Football was being played at the Olympics, would it still be necessary for the Irish flag to fly and for Amhrán na bhFiann to play before the game. Rule 15 requires this of any game under the control of the GAA. Would we sacrifice this to see our sports played on foreign fields, or are we happy as it is - a game of our own, where we're champions of the world this year, next year and forever.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Head the Ball

A documentary on the History Channel yesterday - interestingly the opening day of the Olympic football competition - described how footballs origins can be traced to the BC era in China. According to a document found in 1973, the Yellow Emperor defeated an enemy Chiyou in war and as a means of venting whatever anger remained, ordered the beheading of his enemy, and then ordered his men to kick the head in a game of Cuju (pronounced Choo Jii). Apparently FIFA have recognised this as the oldest record of what's now called football, codified somewhat more recently by our friends across the Irish Sea as Association Football, or soccer.

Soccer's uniqueness arises from the allowance in only limited circumstances of the use of the hands. Cuju shared this rule with soccer, and indeed many of the ball control skills, according to historians. Due to the weight of the ball, it could be kicked neither high nor far, so much more focus was placed on control close to the body. According to the reconstructed footage in the documentary, the game appeared quite similar to soccer - spectacular dive included.

Given that between one and two millenia passed between the two versions of the game, it's reasonable to suppose that there is no direct ancestral relationship between the two games. Instead, it's probable that both games arose independently and happened upon the "no handling" rule due to their own spiritual, pragmatic or other reasons. Just because two sports appear similar does not require us to believe that they share any evolutionary link, much as we'd like to. Richard Dawkins, Oxford University's contemporary poster-boy for Darwin's natural selection theory, wrote in one of his tomes of the existence of - or indeed just our need to believe in - "evolutionary good tricks". Using the eyes as an example, as I recall, Dawkins explained that the existence of eyes in two species does not require an evolutionary link, the having of eyes provides a selective advantage making the species more able to survive. So it's not unlikely for two explorations of DNA space to have happened upon this useful organ. Not handling the ball may just be a useful adaptation, as are many of the other features of soccer - especially when space is at a premium. In China Cuju was played in army barracks and later palaces, where, I suppose windows could have been broken. Soccer's appeal to the urban audience was due to precisely the same reasons.

In this country we've often assumed that an ancestral relationship existed between our own football and Australia's native game, originating in the Victorian colony. The two games appear similar, much like Cuju and soccer, and the skills required are so similar that players can transfer relatively easily between the two. The first game of Australian Football was apparently played in 1858, with the first proper rules being documented by one Thomas Wills the following year. Michael Cusack's rules and organisation didn't exist until 1884, but prior to that football games were played, most famously the Caid game in the south. It is suggested, then, that Caid played parent to both Gaelic Football and Australin Football, but there is no evidence to support this. Australian historian Geoffrey Blainey, on behalf of the VFL/AFL investigated the link between our football and theirs, and found no sound evidence to suggest a substantial link. There were in the early days of Victorian football, for example, no Irish clubs in Victoria, few Irish names on record as club members, no teams using green, no discussion on record of any Irish relationship to the game. In fact, the documentation that exists, which is not much, treats in much detail the relationship between Australian football and games played in England's public schools. Other suggestions such as a relationship between Australian Football and Aboriginal Games such as Mangook appear as unlikely as they are unproven.

What seems likely to me is that there is little purity in the descent of sports. They borrow from each other in many conscious and unconscious ways. This was particularly the case in the mid 19th centure when different villages in Ireland, towns in Australia and schools in England had their local versions of football. As well as hundreds of other versions likely elsewhere. Where games are regulated locally, changes can be rapid leading to speciation, divergence and convergence. As I see it, this is what happened with Ireland and Australia. Both our games likely have some shared history, but not necessarily more of an overlap than we have with many other sports, both living and extinct.

By the way, the documentary on Cuju is available online at http://www.truveo.com/Ancient-Chinese-Sports-Soccer/id/797328393.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

The Gambler

I only recently got around to reading Oisin McConville's biography, written during last year's championship and detailing, among many things, Oisin's personal battles with an addiction to gambling and Armagh's battles with Tyrone. Although the text runs to a reasonable 204 pages the headlines at the time of its release treated only the writer's smashing of football's fourth wall to tell of the sledging dished on the pitch by Tyrone players. Conor Gormley and Ryan McMenamin in particular but also this year's captain Brian Dooher. In reality this is but a small sub-plot to the book, and serves only to identify these players with many others who, legend tells us, said much worse through the years. Even the title, The Gambler, makes reference to a part of the book which occupies less inches than the gripping football stories. McConville suffered, suffered badly too, with an addiction to gambling which left him in substantial debt and relying on freinds and family to avoid serious problems. And avoid them he assuredly did. Throughout so much of the book you're given the impression that McConville's ambitions in football had no counterpart off the field. While football was his life, he showed no motivation to achieve any success outside of it, as he moved between jobs, built up gambling debts, and then felt let down when the football side of his life wouldn't come to the rescue - for example when he writes of his need to sell his car only to find that the county board wouldn't replace it for him.

For football fans though, the main motivation for reading the book is to peek inside the Armagh team of the past decade. McConville considers the Armagh team "one of the greatest of the modern era". While the statistics show only one Sam Maguire in the past decade, it shows that in the historically level playing fields of Ulster the Orchard men have taken seven from the past ten Anglo Celt trophies. Not even Kerry have matched this provincial record. What Kerry have done, however, is win four of the past ten All-Ireland Championships. Tyrone and Galway have collected two each. Meath's tally of one matches Armagh's. Yet there surely is a greatness in the achievements of Armagh. The greatness of their revolution. McConville tells of training methods borrowed from Rugby League, including hated tackle grids where hard hits were given, taken and brought into Croke Park for big games. Armagh's taming of Dublin in 2003, the writer tells us, was down to a fear on Dublin's part to beat their markers to the ball - such was the ferocity of their clashes. Maybe so. Undoubtedly Armagh brought a level of fitness, physicality and professionalism which led the way for others. But perhaps the key word for Armagh is "intensity" - the oft used term employed by Joe Brolly in his analysis. McConville writes of a time when Joe Kernan spoke to his Crossmaglen players before a match with Mullaghbawn, instructing them to stare their marker in the eye as they shook hands before throw in, and to look right through them. This deathly stare was matched on the field with the "inches" philosohpy of winning every little battle. Everything.

But all that takes it out of you, and after a decade of football Armagh must be disappointed to have failed to match their fiercest rivals in mid-Ulster on the roll of honour. Maybe their time will come again this year, with Wexford to face this weekend and bigger teams to follow. One way or another, they've left their mark on the game and the competitions. McConville and co. seem to recognise that the good times have ended, but who knows, maybe the thought of Brian Dooher in the Hogan Stand is just the focus they need. Here's hoping.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Leinster's Three

Quarter finals of the football championship, and the most represented province is Leinster. The province which hasn't had an All-Ireland finalist since 2001, and hasn't had a winner since the Royal County took ultimate honours in the last year of the last century, must take encouragement from their three counties fighting for places in the semi-finals. True, none but the Leinster Champions will enter their tie as favourites, and both Wexford and Kildare played this weekend in atrocious football matches, but teams have won medals in the past playing less than perfect football.

Traditionally Ulster counties support each other against a perceived common enemy when counties emerge from the northern province. Local rivalries are one thing, but this morphs to local affinity when supporters travel to Croke Park. This has never been the case for Leinster, but perhaps now is the time. Critics are speaking of the Leinster Championship in football in the same terms used for the hurling version. Dublin are seen as the hegemons that Kilkenny have long been in hurling. Such a dominance does nothing for the respect for the competition, even more so when it is considered that thirteen years have passed since Dublin supporters have sought tickets in late September.

Leinster needs to occupy a place at the top table of football. More teams from Leinster compete in the football championship than any of the other provinces, yet most of these are classed as weak counties and in turn the chamionship is a weak cometition. This year's qualifiers has already witnessed the gutting of Meath in the most savage way imaginable on a trip to one of Munster's second class citizens. Laois and Offaly now share both a Dáil constituency and a bad memory of a summer meeting with Mourne men. Of the other counties Westmeath represented creditable but ill disciplined opposition for Louth's conquerers in Omagh; Longford didn't play any teams from outside their province; Carlow and Wicklow weren't even eligible for qualification to the, eh, qualifiers. All this and the final of the Leinster Championship saw the biggest margin of victory in any football match this summer, missing out only to Galway's defeat of Antrim in hurling for the title of worst mauling of the Gaelic summer.

The best answer for the criticism this inevitably leads to, as it was when Ulster's nine way battle was considered a second tier championship, is for success to come outside the province. Thus supporters of all Leinster counties should welcome the current quarter-final representation, and all should hope for Leinster progression against Cork, Armagh and Tyrone. It's said that when Offaly played Down in the 1961 football final, their supporters were met with Red and Black bunting as they journeyed through Kildare on final day. The rivalries are old and the schadenfreude that welcomes defeat may be a part of the local traditions, but this does nothing for the respect for counties in the largest province or their annual competition.

Maybe all Leinster people could consider this when selecting teams to cheer for on the next two weekends.

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Back in your Box

I didn't see last night's U21 Munster Hurling Final, but I awoke this morning exasperated to hear of yet another incident which will sully the good name of our national games, its participants and its supporters. Ugly scenes, apparently, followed the awarding of a 65m free to Tipperary following the Clare goalkeeper having taken a puck out from outside the small rectangle. To compound the issue further, it seems that the referee had not spotted the infraction, nor had he seen the umpire's attempt to draw attention to it, thus allowing play to continue, leading to the award of a 20m free to Clare at the opposite end of the pitch. When his attention was drawn to the pedantic umpire the referee cancelled the 20m free and awarded the controversial 65m free, leading to anger, protest and a Garda escort for the white coated official at the centre of the commotion. This, I should add, happened in the 4th minute (out of 5!) of injury time. While the match was level!

I'll admit again that I didn't see the match, so its possible that some of the above facts are incorrect. Even, however, if they are we can consider the situation hypothetical, accepting that it's not entirely unlikely for such an event to take place in a game of hurling. It's important, very much so, because of the issues it raises.

Firstly, how did play continue after the puck out? Surely the umpire must have spotted the violation of the technical rules immediately. Did he then signal immediately, or did he delay? Did the referee check to see if there was a signal from the umpire while the ball was in flight? If this is a rule that the officials intend to enforce then why did they not have a system in place to allow play to be stopped immediately without it proceeding to the point where the offending goalkeeper's teammate is awarded a free in front of their opponent's goal. This is a relatively minor point, though, in the overall scheme of things.

Of much greater importance is the enforcement of this rule at all. A rule book can only tell you so many things, and it is certain that a visitor from another planet (or, say, England) who has not before seen the game played would not be much the wiser about the game following a perusal of the official set of rules. The game has a distinctive culture, much like football, and much, much different to any of the other games temporarily taking residence in head quarters. A central part of this undocumented culture is the fuzzy interpretation of the lines on the pitch. In soccer, any player taking a throw in cannot have his feet inside the sideline. If he does, then it's automatically a foul throw, and his opponents are awarded the throw. Clear. Simple. Unambiguous. In rugby, any player within 10m of a penalty taker who attempts to interfere in play is penalised. In both football and hurling, there's a plethora of unwritten allowances made for players participating in set play. Firstly, although the rules of the game state that a player on the team awarded a side-line puck shall place the ball on the side-line at the place indicated by the linesman, it is generally allowed, actually always allowed, for the player to move the ball a few feet in from the sideline to a nicer clump of grass, or whatever. Similarly for frees, and most obviously for 65m frees (this makes me wonder, did the Tipperary player last night take the 65m free from exactly 65m - I must look out for reruns on TG4/Setanta). All this despite the rule (4.25) that clearly states that it is a technical foul to advance the ball deliberately from the place at which a free puck or side-line puck is to be taken - to be penalised by the cancelling of the previous award, to be replaced by a throw in.

These are elements of the game which are unwritten but known. Gaelic Games, being as they are games played (to any substantial level) only in our own country can have a culture like this, where it is known and shared without legal speak. International games such as soccer and rugby, sprawling the globe into heterogeneous countries, societies and cultures, perhaps require more exact definitions. Even our own invention, International Rules, suffered the fate of a culture clash. The culture of football which recognises the place of a sly-dig met with the antipodean sledging culture, and resulted in a resounding defeat for our lads. In many, many ways. The question is this, however, for how long do we allow this tacit knowledge govern our games, before we either choose to document the unofficial rules, or enforce the official version.

It appears to me that the GAA, or at least some officials, have taken a step towards enforcement, but tragically selected the puck out as the guinea pig. Like sideline pucks and frees, it is generally accepted that you can be afforded a foot or two in your interpretation of where the line actually is. For the puck out the line of interest is the outer boundary of the small rectangle. What makes the selection of this rule for enforcement so utterly harsh is the fact that the punishment for violation is so draconian. For stepping outside the small rectangle when taking a puck out, giving yourself a negligible advantage, especially when compared to the advantage a goalkeeper gets by coming off the goal line at penalty time, you are penalised through the award of a free to your opponents in front of your goal, well within the range of any free taker worth his salt. If the other rules were to be interpreted fully, a player seeking an advantage when taking a 65m free would be punished only by having the ball thrown in, but ask yourself, which is the greater crime?

Thus, my third issue is with the penalty for the sneaky (or accidental!) ground gain at a puck out. My suggestion would be that if it is decided to enforce this rule then the penalty should be the awarding of a puck out to the opposing team. For any decent sized puck out, the ball should nearly be at the other end of the pitch already, so there wouldn't be much delay, and there certainly wouldn't be too much argument. But for crying out loud, giving the opposition a direct shot at goal for such a minor violation. Terrifying.

Is it time, I wonder, for all rules to be fully enforced. Technical issues such as the role of lines etc. could easily be cases of strict liability. It's easy to see if a ball is on a line or not when a free is being taken. It's easy to see if a goalkeeper has left his small rectangle. It's easy to see if a goal keeper is on his line. It's also possible, though less easy, to see whether a player is within 13m or 20m of a free taker. Should we continue with our culture of fuzzy rules, or should we move to strict interpretation. I'm happy enough with how it is at the moment, but if we are to keep it such, it must be for all rules. All the time.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Fairly Foul

Brendan Cole, on RTE.ie, has published an interesting collection of thoughts on the obvious discipline problems in Gaelic Football. Exercising his creating muscle, Cole suggests a number of changes to the rules of the game which may serve to discourage the type of on-field pulling and dragging that has made the sport into a fairly unappealing, and largely ugly sibling of the beautiful game with sticks. Among his controversial suggestions are the awarding of two points for frees inside the 45m line, and for scores from play outside the same line - thus discouraging interference with attackers close to goal, and rewarding of kicking skill from distance. He also proposes a fifth foul rule, whereby, following the fifth personal foul by a team, the opposition are awarded a free from the 45m line in front of their opponent's goal.

Undoubtedly, Gaelic Football needs something. True, we'll all fill the stands when our county is playing and tune in to Spillane and co. that evening. We do this, however, not for the beauty of the game being played, but for the tribal allegiances that being born on one side or other of a county boundary obliges us to adopt. In truth, Gaelic Football is not an attractive sport, at least most of the time. This, in the shared opinion of many, is due the the tragic reality that in Gaelic Football the foul is widely and regularly used as a tactic.

The main reason why it is used as a tactic is that there is practically no other way to dispossess a player due to the neglect of the tackle in the rule book. If you'll indulge me for a moment, I'll take you on a windy traversal of the Gaelic Football rulebook, for the purpose of understanding why tackling invariably results in a foul.

Rule 1.6 states, fairly, that "Player(s) may tackle an opponent for the ball", meaning at least that we can expect a game that is more physically competitive than, say, tennis. The definition section of the rule book adds that the tackle is "Any attempt to dispossess or reduce the advantage of an opponent within the Rules of Fair Play. With the exception of the charge (fair), the tackle is aimed at the ball not the player". The only rule that says anything about getting the ball from an opponent is rule 1.4 which concludes with "The ball may be knocked from an opponent's hand(s) by flicking it with the open hand.".

So, if you're a defender and an attacker is running at you, then you can shoulder him, and, hoping that this knocks him off balance, or distracts him sufficiently, you can flick the ball out of his hands. You can't pull down the attacker (rule 5.8), trip or jump at him (5.9 and 5.10), push or hold him (5.16) or use a fist anywhere around him, even on the ball while he's holding it (5.17). So the only things you can do is charge shoulder to shoulder, and/or flick the ball out of his hands. Just about everything else is a foul. Even if you were to "wrest" the ball (that's "attempt to dispossess an opponent who already has a (firm) hold on the ball, by grabbing the ball to take it from him" - note "attempt", even just attempting to do this is a foul), you're entitled to be penalised.

The rules say nothing about blocking players, bunching around players etc, so given that you're not allowed do anything else (flicking aside), all you're left with is getting a few of your team mates, surround the player and hope that he can't get the ball to another opponent before you get your flicking opportunity, or until he's held the ball for "longer than the time needed to take four steps". Then, however, all you'll get is a free. Another free.

What audiences want to see is free flowing, end to end football. We want to see skillful scoring, passing and tackling. The trouble is, while the rules deal handsomely with the first two, the third has evolved into a black art that no body can define, but they'll recognise it when they see it. In 2003 when Tyrone experimented with their brand of "puke football" nobody even knew if what they were doing was legal or otherwise, what with all the players surrounding their opponent flicking like mad. Just flicking though. We didn't recognise it, and recognition was the only definition that we had for the tackle.

All this leads us to is the undeniable fact that Gaelic Football needs a more comprehensive definition of the tackle - and a change in the rules to allow players to challenge each other for possession while knowing what is allowed and not allowed. This needs to draw on the existing rule book, and the reality of how the game is played. What cannot continue is the stop-start game based on the personal foul. Australian Football, American Football and Rugby League are often criticised by supporters of our own game for their regular breaks following marks and tackles, but in none of those cases are those intervals triggered by illegal behaviour. In all those cases the game is stopped due to an act of skill by the fielder or the tackler, giving an opportunity for the neutral crowd to admire the behaviour rather than chut at the cynicism or wink at the cuteness.

I don't think penalties such as double scores or team fouls will improve Gaelic Football. I'm sure that most players, if given the option, would prefer to take the legal route rather than the illegal alternative. This is true of hurling, which derives its customs from the same culture and population as football. At some point the rulemakers need to be fair and define a legal tackle, rather than just list violations of the rules. For everyone's sake.

As a final point, if discouragement were needed for choosing the foul, my ill-considered suggestion would be for the fouling player to be forced to leave the field of play until the resultant free kick has been taken. If he fails to do so he automatically gets a yellow card. Clear, simple and unambiguous. Free awarded. The referee signals that it's a free for a personal foul (rather than the technical version). The fouling player then knows that he must run for the sideline and not reenter until the free it taken. The fouled player can proceed as soon as he's fouled by taking the quick free kick, even while the fouler is making his journey to the sideline. Once the sideline is reached, and the free has been taken the fouling player reenters play. Any interference with play prior to that and he's shown yellow.

To be fair to players though, the various powers that be need to take a longer look at what is allowed and not allowed on the pitch when your opponent has the ball. Or else we need to start coaching the open-handed flick from an early age. If anyone knows what on earth it is.