There is nothing as predictable as the choreography of a fall-out following a controversial GAA incident.
y now, what happened at the end of normal time in the Armagh-Galway game has been turned over and discussed.
There was the initial backlash at what happened, with punching, chokeholds and hands put on faces, dangerously close to an opposition player’s eyes.
Condemnation came hard and heavy from a range of sources. Politicians had their say, the Taoiseach and Irish Minister for Sport included.
Former GAA President Sean Kelly called for a lengthy ban for Tiernan Kelly of Armagh.
Then you have those that feel it should not be covered by the media, that pictures of violence should not feature on the pages of newspapers. That in doing so, it makes out that the entire GAA membership — estimated in 2014 to be over 500,000 worldwide — are in responsible for it in some grubby way.
And in highlighting unsavoury elements, it takes away from what was a truly gripping contest, entertainment provided by the players of Armagh and Galway that is rarely experienced in any sport.
It’s always interesting to observe this from a distance. Usually, both sides become hopelessly entrenched in their positions.
The winners go about their business in such circumstances, but the losers have to deal with the disappointment of losing the game and the damage to their reputation.
Which is why the comments of Oisin McConville on Sunday during the live broadcast on RTÉ were so unusual.
McConville has skin in the game, having two nephews on the Armagh panel, and it was one of them in Rian O’Neill who hit a sensational, nerve-shredding free to send the contest into extra-time.
And then came the unpleasantness.
We have become so accustomed in such circumstances to hearing a pundit from a competing county dance on the head of a pin and make excuses for the behaviour that everyone can see for themselves.
Instead, McConville was disgusted, indeed using the word “disgusting”. He sets the standard now for other pundits to take their county jersey off and just say what is blatantly obvious to all.
No more, ‘Ah sure, look it’. Some hope.
The problem here is when you have a group of individuals who surrender themselves to a common goal. Group thoughts take over inside the bubble.
Speaking to people who were formative influences in Kelly’s life, they feel dreadfully sorry for him.
A former Head Boy at school, they spoke glowingly about him as a young man of great promise. He may well be, but he will now have to live with the regret and consequences of a few seconds of madness.
A ban of some sort from the GAA will be coming today when the Central Competitions Control Committee finish their deliberations and send notice to the county boards.
But that’s it.
Ultimately, Armagh find themselves answering these questions once again. Their League game against Tyrone brought four red cards for the Red Hands and one for Armagh after a prolonged period of similar scenes.
The final League game against Donegal brought more of the same with punishments brought at the time and then retrospective bans, later overturned on appeal when lawyers found a loophole over the manner of procedure.
So when it happened for a third time in four months, the press are entitled to ask for an explanation.
When the BBC’s Mark Sidebottom pursues something, as he did with Armagh manager Kieran McGeeney, he can be relentless. That’s strong journalism. In McGeeney’s first few seconds of response, he deflected responsibility onto GAA protocols, saying: “… I think there are a few simple things we can do to stop it.
“They shouldn’t be going in together at half-time. I know how it started, but once it starts, then it can get out of control.”
At this point it should be noted that former Referees’ Chairman Pat McEnaney has said there would have been a protocol that one team should have gone down the tunnel first.
In the second paragraph, McGeeney said the following: “But again trial by social media is a very poor way to go. We saw the last time (presumably after the Donegal League game) when (if) people had have sat down to watch the video, they might have got it right.”
Which is just an instant deflection. Sidebottom was not to be deterred and replied: “Players have to assume responsibility as well. Is there not an onus on a player to recognise…”
And then he was cut off by McGeeney asking: “Well, what happens if someone pushes you? Would you push back? What would you do?”
From then on, it became a tense back and forward. When Sidebottom tried to speak, he was then interrupted.
The stand-off was paused when a Croke Park employee stepped in, stating the media had two more questions to ask.
It was at this point when a reporter, wearing a jacket with an Armagh crest on it, jumped in.
“Can I just ask Kieran, the supporters of Armagh tried to turn Croker orange today and they have done that. What do you have to say to the supporters?” he asked.
And that’s when journalism died. Nobody got a satisfactory answer to what had happened out on the pitch and McGeeney cut a deeper trench for himself from which to conduct this strange combat.
Gaelic Games, indeed all sports, can be a force for moulding and shaping children and adults into responsible people. It can teach things like values and honesty.
But in other ways, it is equally a form of arrested development if the culture is not right.
