BOYLAN TALKS SPORT: Apart from frustrating fans, what does Omerta achieve?
Over the years on the circuit going to matches, faces become familiar. Fellow fans, folk from other clubs around the county and, in my case, I will always count it as a privilege to be able to say, players, mentors and other members of the press corp.
But then, there are those who were once a common sight but you don’t see anymore.
I thought about one such individual during the week. As Gaeilge, he was known as Duinne Eile, or more commonly, AN Other. Their appearance on a team sheet before a match usually prompted a captivating mix of excitement and anxiety bordering on dread.
If the vacancy was in the starting 15, it generally meant there was extreme doubt about a given player or they had already been ruled out.
Conversely however, if the original and best utility player appeared listed among the subs, you could safely bet there was an intriguing addition to same. Right now, I can think of two examples involving the same player.
During the unforgettable summer of 1991, the addition of Gerry McEntee to the Meath bench for the third match against the Dubs was a huge and needed boost.
As if to underline the fact, immediately he came on, the doc caught a ball at centre field and put Colm Coyle in for what turned out to be a match saving goal.
Alas, later in the same campaign, despite a truly heroic effort from the former Nobber and Summerhill player, Meath were unable to overcome the loss of Robbie O’Malley, Colm O’Rourke and - for the second half - Mick Lyons against Down in the All Ireland final.
Now, whether the following occurred before Duinne Eile was retired or not I can’t remember, but, the Ger Loughnane era in Clare saw the inception of what you might call the ‘Dud’ team. Meaning that you could 99% guarantee there would be at least one late change to the published lineup.
Often so late, in fact, that nobody would notice until the teams were in the pre-match parade. If there was one. Perhaps it’s a school Principal thing, but it appears Colm has been afflicted with the same curious habit.
At the time of typing, for every game so far this season, there has been at least one change to every announced Meath team come throw in time. But then, that’s only one example of the silence and secrecy which now envelopes teams. Even at club level.
By the way, this is not me moaning from a journalistic perspective. It just smacks of an organisation - or at least people therein - talking out of both sides of the mouth.
You can’t prattle on about an amateur ethos and people doing it for the love of it whilst at the same time team bases are treated like Alcatraz and what goes on therein is covered by the Official Secrets Act.
The idiocy of which is twofold. Firstly because, if amateurism is at the core of the Association, isn’t it supposed to be a passtime, a hobby, fun. What should it matter if one team knows the other has an injured player or they prefer to put their kickouts to point x rather than point y. Plus, only 15 play at any one time so if player a or b isn’t there it’s going to be obvious very quickly.
Secondly, you could have all the intel in the world and it could be no use to you. Like a mule with a bicycle - no idea how he ended up with it and damned if he knows how to use it!
Example - shortly before the commencement of the 1988 Championship, defending All Champions Meath hosted Kildare in a challenge match to mark the official opening of new dressing rooms in Summerhill. The result? Meath 0-0, Kildare 2-16. And we all know how the rest of that season played out!
Thirdly, the world is a different place now, with advances in technology and the advent of social media, it’s virtually impossible to keep anything quiet.
Moreover, people - particularly supporters - being up to speed with a team doesn’t have to be seen as sinister.
When someone is as emotionally invested into something as GAA fans tend to be with their teams, they’re not about to send word to forthcoming opponents to the effect of ‘Here, x isn’t going to be fit for the match. They’ll be replaced by y. Now what you need to look out for with them is…' That simply doesn’t happen. So apart from frustrating fans, what does the Omerta achieve?
Having said all of the above, there’s another angle to matters surrounding communication here. I don’t believe the ‘managers manage and players play’ mantra is either workable or healthy.
The modern player won’t be dictated to, there are too many other options out there. Besides, a manager that is unwilling to listen and/or delegate is unlikely to get too far.
However, and the following may not sit well with some people but it is from the heart, players, too, need to realise that to be asked to represent one’s county should always been seen as an honour and a privilege.
Yes, I believe players should be properly looked after for the gargantuan efforts they expend at the highest level (as of last Sunday morning Roscommon had trained collectively 66 times already this season) but few things grind my gears more than (a) players dropping out of county panels and (b) - this is even worse - players refusing to take county call ups when they do arrive.
Incidentally, just for clarity, while desperately disappointed to hear of the apparent departure of Jack Flynn from the Meath panel, I'm not trying to have a dig at anybody.
There are players from my own club who fall into both categories and it makes me utterly sick. Some of us would give the few working limbs we have just to have the most menial role with a county team.
Hopefully somebody will acknowledge as such while these wheels are still turning with the fluidity that is currently the case.
Thankfully, last Sunday proved the lauded Meath spirit of old is alive and well.
There’s a primal madness about a Meath team with their backs to the wall. All of our best combinations and, while the current crew may not be fully kitted out yet, Sunday showed they’re getting there.
Thus, they are entitled to approach the forthcoming joust against Kildare with modest yet justified confidence. But beware the wounded animal.