AFTER NEWS CAME through this week about the GAA baring their teeth to the marauding Australian Football League, delivering a furious slapdown and venting their anger about the best Gaelic footballers being poached, by (checks notes)… inviting them over to resume the International Rules?
Fox, meet hen house.
This is one relationship that tilted in one direction a long, long time ago. Only one person arrives in the station, if you get our drift.
Let’s paint the picture.
After the GAA and AFL tip up the stairs, brush their teeth, apply the overnight face creams and lie down beside each other, what do you think happens next?
We suspect that the AFL turns away, emits some flatulence, and snores loudly as they nudge their way across the bed, taking up more and more real estate as the sleepless hours pass for the fretting GAA.
The imbalance of power has always been there, like sands shifting beneath the GAA’s feet.
First introduced to each other in the mid ‘60s, the AFL did all the pursuing to start with, sending over ‘The Galahs’, but they did little to impress the stoic men of Meath. Clearly at that point, the GAA had some self-respect.
By the 1980s, both sides were in full peacocking mode, the Aussies having convinced the Irish to go sleeveless for the first time in their lives, sort of like Liz Hurley’s glow-up of Shane Warne in reverse.
Guns out but sun's not out. Ireland's 1987 Compromise Rules team. Billy Stickland / INPHO
Billy Stickland / INPHO / INPHO
As the years went on, there were some charming sub-plots to the burgeoning relationship. Jim Stynes and his success as an AFL legend was something that the vast majority could feel some pride in.
When Anthony Tohill returned home after being squeezed off the roster of Melbourne Demons, he went straight into a Queen’s University Engineering Faculty. He entered this strange, exotic land called a gym, where he was stared at by Kieran McGeeney, Paul McGrane and Paul Brewster, lifting weights, and thereby in that moment birthing professionalism and standards in the GAA.
By the late ‘90s, the GAA was happy to be photographed with the AFL on the big days out when they had their gladrags on.
It felt a marriage of equals. Players got to sample a little slice of professionalism before returning to the milking parlour or classroom. Sure, it was great to knock the froth off a few schooners, but give me a turf fire, a fiddle and some stout in a cottage pub in Donegal or Kerry any day.
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Both gradually and then, suddenly, the relationship changed. The image of the loving couple showed one side wintering worse than the other.
Facebook pictures brought one too many replies of ‘PUNCHING MATE’ than felt necessary.
The AFL has become the Jolene to the GAA’s Dolly. We’re begging darlin’, please don’t take our men. Don’t take him ’cause you can.
Underneath the civility lies a deep insecurity, perhaps dating back to the 2005 International Rules Series.
Funny thing, the less Australia tried, the more the Irish seemed interested. After a while they abandoned any effort with the thrill of the chase. Teams were no longer made up of All-Australians. A deep tan and a six-pack can take you a long, long way.
There were enough mini-wins to sustain the GAA. Every so often the likes of David Clifford or Sean Cavanagh were happy to settle down locally.
But this is a different age. 36 years on from the Canon marketing campaign with Andre Agassi, it is certain that Image is Everything.
Chris Johnson gives Dessie Dolan what for. INPHO
INPHO
Blame the ‘Gram and Looksmaxxing, but this is an age when fitness influencers strap their watch onto stronger runners to record faster Strava times.
The elders of the GAA could see this coming a mile off. In 2008, Mickey Harte dismissed the whole thing as a free holiday for some players. The section in Owen Mulligan’s autobiography where he freely admitted to that, along with stealing underpants on a daily basis from Brian Dooher’s suitcase, confirmed it so.
In recent years, Tomás Ó Sé has asked the obvious question of why bother maintaining cordial relationships?
Meanwhile, the GAA get ever more desperate.
On 22 September, RTÉ ran a story that the GAA were keen to establish some boundaries.
“The interest that the AFL has in our Gaelic players is something that we are keeping a very close eye on,” said GAA President Jarlath Burns.
“We are in talks with the AFL about putting some sort of a protocol in place, possibly such as changing the category of player that goes from category B Rookie to category A and that might self-regulate it in time.
“But certainly we are meeting representatives of the AFL before the end of the month and this issue is going to be top of the agenda with us in the GAA.”
Well, the end of the month came and went.
And then what happened?
Finnbarr Roarty up and absconded in the middle of the night. No note, nothing. Not even the most hypnotizing manager in the country in Jim McGuinness could prevent his escape. Time waits for nobody.
Finnbarr Roarty is taking his talents elsewhere. James Lawlor / INPHO
James Lawlor / INPHO / INPHO
That now makes it Oisín Mullin and Roarty as Young Footballers of the Year that the Aussies fancied the look of. And there’s a fair chance that Kobe McDonald – recruited a long time ago – will win the 2026 award.
All that tough talk from the GAA really worked, wha’?
We’ll just slide in here, for overall context, that there are 46 Irish players playing in the Women’s AFL.
Here comes the relationship expert advice bit now; there is nothing the GAA can do if AFL clubs wish to take amateur players over to their country, to play their professional sport.
Nothing, nowt, nada not a single thing. Gaelic Games might be what has put a player in this position of desirability in the first place, but the sporting body of the GAA has as much power as the local bridge society, the library, or the Orange Order when it comes to stopping it.
Instead of the GAA pushing back on Aussie recruitment, all that emerged from the latest meeting was that the two bodies seem remarkably keen to resume the International Rules series.
That’ll show them! In an effort to stop them cherry-picking the very best talent, the GAA will instead giftwrap them in some kit and send them out for a live-testing to see how they perform against full-time athletes in the areas of running, jumping and kicking.
Allow us to construct an analogy. I know! It’s like inviting a thief to your jewellers and putting all the most expensive items out for display.
Your invitation will naturally state that the dress code is full balaclava, gloves and hamza suit. You’ll excuse yourself for a loo break and ask breezily; ‘Would you mind keeping an eye on all that? I know you have a getaway car revving outside with stolen licence plates, but it’s just that all our security cameras are down. Won’t be long, ten minutes or so!’
At this stage of the relationship, the GAA might have settled for things, as imperfect as they were. Like Carmelo Soprano, a blind eye could be turned as long as no indiscretions became public. But some people cannot help themselves.
It’s an ugly and deceitful compromise, but the country is full of them.
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The AFL has become the Jolene to the GAA’s Dolly - why bring back the International Rules?
AFTER NEWS CAME through this week about the GAA baring their teeth to the marauding Australian Football League, delivering a furious slapdown and venting their anger about the best Gaelic footballers being poached, by (checks notes)… inviting them over to resume the International Rules?
Fox, meet hen house.
This is one relationship that tilted in one direction a long, long time ago. Only one person arrives in the station, if you get our drift.
Let’s paint the picture.
After the GAA and AFL tip up the stairs, brush their teeth, apply the overnight face creams and lie down beside each other, what do you think happens next?
We suspect that the AFL turns away, emits some flatulence, and snores loudly as they nudge their way across the bed, taking up more and more real estate as the sleepless hours pass for the fretting GAA.
The imbalance of power has always been there, like sands shifting beneath the GAA’s feet.
First introduced to each other in the mid ‘60s, the AFL did all the pursuing to start with, sending over ‘The Galahs’, but they did little to impress the stoic men of Meath. Clearly at that point, the GAA had some self-respect.
By the 1980s, both sides were in full peacocking mode, the Aussies having convinced the Irish to go sleeveless for the first time in their lives, sort of like Liz Hurley’s glow-up of Shane Warne in reverse.
As the years went on, there were some charming sub-plots to the burgeoning relationship. Jim Stynes and his success as an AFL legend was something that the vast majority could feel some pride in.
When Anthony Tohill returned home after being squeezed off the roster of Melbourne Demons, he went straight into a Queen’s University Engineering Faculty. He entered this strange, exotic land called a gym, where he was stared at by Kieran McGeeney, Paul McGrane and Paul Brewster, lifting weights, and thereby in that moment birthing professionalism and standards in the GAA.
By the late ‘90s, the GAA was happy to be photographed with the AFL on the big days out when they had their gladrags on.
It felt a marriage of equals. Players got to sample a little slice of professionalism before returning to the milking parlour or classroom. Sure, it was great to knock the froth off a few schooners, but give me a turf fire, a fiddle and some stout in a cottage pub in Donegal or Kerry any day.
Both gradually and then, suddenly, the relationship changed. The image of the loving couple showed one side wintering worse than the other.
Facebook pictures brought one too many replies of ‘PUNCHING MATE’ than felt necessary.
The AFL has become the Jolene to the GAA’s Dolly. We’re begging darlin’, please don’t take our men. Don’t take him ’cause you can.
Underneath the civility lies a deep insecurity, perhaps dating back to the 2005 International Rules Series.
There were enough mini-wins to sustain the GAA. Every so often the likes of David Clifford or Sean Cavanagh were happy to settle down locally.
But this is a different age. 36 years on from the Canon marketing campaign with Andre Agassi, it is certain that Image is Everything.
Blame the ‘Gram and Looksmaxxing, but this is an age when fitness influencers strap their watch onto stronger runners to record faster Strava times.
The elders of the GAA could see this coming a mile off. In 2008, Mickey Harte dismissed the whole thing as a free holiday for some players. The section in Owen Mulligan’s autobiography where he freely admitted to that, along with stealing underpants on a daily basis from Brian Dooher’s suitcase, confirmed it so.
In recent years, Tomás Ó Sé has asked the obvious question of why bother maintaining cordial relationships?
Meanwhile, the GAA get ever more desperate.
On 22 September, RTÉ ran a story that the GAA were keen to establish some boundaries.
“The interest that the AFL has in our Gaelic players is something that we are keeping a very close eye on,” said GAA President Jarlath Burns.
“We are in talks with the AFL about putting some sort of a protocol in place, possibly such as changing the category of player that goes from category B Rookie to category A and that might self-regulate it in time.
“But certainly we are meeting representatives of the AFL before the end of the month and this issue is going to be top of the agenda with us in the GAA.”
Well, the end of the month came and went.
And then what happened?
Finnbarr Roarty up and absconded in the middle of the night. No note, nothing. Not even the most hypnotizing manager in the country in Jim McGuinness could prevent his escape. Time waits for nobody.
That now makes it Oisín Mullin and Roarty as Young Footballers of the Year that the Aussies fancied the look of. And there’s a fair chance that Kobe McDonald – recruited a long time ago – will win the 2026 award.
All that tough talk from the GAA really worked, wha’?
We’ll just slide in here, for overall context, that there are 46 Irish players playing in the Women’s AFL.
Here comes the relationship expert advice bit now; there is nothing the GAA can do if AFL clubs wish to take amateur players over to their country, to play their professional sport.
Nothing, nowt, nada not a single thing. Gaelic Games might be what has put a player in this position of desirability in the first place, but the sporting body of the GAA has as much power as the local bridge society, the library, or the Orange Order when it comes to stopping it.
Instead of the GAA pushing back on Aussie recruitment, all that emerged from the latest meeting was that the two bodies seem remarkably keen to resume the International Rules series.
That’ll show them! In an effort to stop them cherry-picking the very best talent, the GAA will instead giftwrap them in some kit and send them out for a live-testing to see how they perform against full-time athletes in the areas of running, jumping and kicking.
Your invitation will naturally state that the dress code is full balaclava, gloves and hamza suit. You’ll excuse yourself for a loo break and ask breezily; ‘Would you mind keeping an eye on all that? I know you have a getaway car revving outside with stolen licence plates, but it’s just that all our security cameras are down. Won’t be long, ten minutes or so!’
At this stage of the relationship, the GAA might have settled for things, as imperfect as they were. Like Carmelo Soprano, a blind eye could be turned as long as no indiscretions became public. But some people cannot help themselves.
It’s an ugly and deceitful compromise, but the country is full of them.
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AFL Bogue On Wednesday GAA GETTING REAL