AS IT OCCUPIES centre stage this weekend, those of us who have long painted the Leinster football championship as the poster child for a dysfunctional provincial system should stand down and admit we got it all wrong.
In fact, we got it wrong in ways we never thought was possible, blushing now at the memory of dismissing it as an irrelevance when, in fact, it has never felt more relevant.
As a consequence of the times we are living in, it is almost impossible to view any aspect of the world through anything other than orange-tinted lenses.
Of course, trying to apply rationale to a mind where reason has never had a home is futile, but if it is possible to apply a guiding philosophy to America’s tango-smacked president, it is his core belief that might is always right.
As a consequence, the world is left in two minds as to whether it should stare into the abyss, or through the asylum window to see if the orderlies can at least apply restraint rather than encourage the madness.
But perhaps – and we know it is a long shot given its struggles to attract eyeballs in far closer proximity – the global number crunchers could be encouraged instead to look at the Leinster football championship as a kind of controlled experiment into what happens when “might is right” goes from being a throwaway rhyming catchphrase to overarching governance policy.
Think of it less as a football competition and more of a future dystopian landscape, when one weaponised superpower torches all others, turning all hope into ashes.
For those who have struggled to pay rent in Dublin’s world that is far easier to imagine than you might think.
Dessie Farrell’s team head to Aughrim on Sunday in search of a 43rd consecutive Leinster championship win as they head out on a bid/stroll to win a 15th title in a row – and a 20th inside 21 years.
Aughrim hosts tomorrow's game. James Lawlor / INPHO
James Lawlor / INPHO / INPHO
If you are feeling something in your gut and you have self diagnosed it as anticipation, it might be best to go see a doctor.
Advertisement
As to how we got here, well that’s a well worn tale at this stage, but one which has a certain and obvious resonance.
The country’s biggest county was hyper centrally funded to exploit its vast potential and size to see just how great it could become and all at the expense of others less developed with greater needs, who were asked to tighten their coaching belts and sustain themselves on a smaller piece of the fiscal and development pie.
Well, what do you know? The bigger got greater and the needier shrunk into relative oblivion.
In a way that summation is a tad unfair in that it was not the primary reason for Dublin’s dominance; the emergence of generational talents and a manager with the nous to turn them into a footballing killing machine the likes of which we had never seen before most certainly was.
However, neither was one entirely divorced from the other.
But the real failure of governance was by those whose duty it was to protect the integrity of its championship.
Instead, the Leinster Council was blinded by the sight of one cash cow in a big green field with a full udder that they could not resist milking it for all that it was worth, while the neighbouring stock hungrily looked over the wall while they grazed on the long acre.
The best and biggest were given home advantage year on year, just to be sure, to be sure and the warnings that there would be a payback for making bad worse were not heeded until the cash cow was all but milked dry.
That it took this long for Leinster to finally move all of its rounds outside of the final out of Croke Park was taken only because it was persuaded by the apathy a monopolised market generates, as attendances fell year on year
But the idea that a lesson has been heeded and that after all these years the championship will somehow heal itself, and competitive integrity will be restored is as wistful as hoping that The Donald will be magically invested with good manners and even better sense.
This weekend, there are games of some intrigue, but of little consequence.
The loser of Kildare/Westmeath drops into the Tailteann Cup, but it is a slow news day when that excites the chattering classes. After all, the novelty of that wore thin when Kildare dropped down there last year and still could not even make the last four.
Offaly have a real chance of beating Meath, building on their Mickey Harte factor and the momentum of a Division 3 title win, but even if they do their only reward is to become number 44 on Dublin’s joyless trudge to another title.
If it’s Meath, there is the prospect of a better atmosphere in a smaller venue, but no one is pretending that there is any prospect of a better outcome for them.
Offaly’s joint managers Mickey Harte and Declan Kelly celebrating their league promotion. James Crombie / INPHO
James Crombie / INPHO / INPHO
But what makes this smothering sense of inevitability of another routine Leinster championship even more depressing, is that this is a modestly good Dublin team at best, a very pale blue version of what they were in their imperious pomp.
They are a team shy of most of their era defining leaders, in a constant state of transition with huge question marks over their goalkeeper and defence, and an unhealthy reliance on their stand-out forward, Con O’Callaghan.
And yet none of that matters, because the damage of two decades of unprecedented domination has laid the rest of them to waste.
It is not just within the province, outside it Leinster teams are a competitive irrelevance.
Louth’s win over Cork last summer was the first time in 12 games that a Leinster team (outside of Dublin) had beaten a team from outside the province in the Sam Maguire. That is not an outlier but par for the course.
The greatest hope for change in Leinster is someday soon Dublin will grow so bored from winning something which now means so little to them that they will fall into a coma – all the more likely given its diluted impact in the All-Ireland series.
But when one team’s tedium trumps another’s awakening, no one should be fooled into thinking they have witnessed the start of something new.
The reality is Dublin may be a diminished force but yet they are still the undisputed kings of their diminished world.
And if you look through that orange viewfinder, the real world might look no different.
To embed this post, copy the code below on your site
Close
4 Comments
This is YOUR comments community. Stay civil, stay constructive, stay on topic.
Please familiarise yourself with our comments policy
here
before taking part.
The damage of Dublin domination has laid the rest of Leinster football to waste
AS IT OCCUPIES centre stage this weekend, those of us who have long painted the Leinster football championship as the poster child for a dysfunctional provincial system should stand down and admit we got it all wrong.
In fact, we got it wrong in ways we never thought was possible, blushing now at the memory of dismissing it as an irrelevance when, in fact, it has never felt more relevant.
As a consequence of the times we are living in, it is almost impossible to view any aspect of the world through anything other than orange-tinted lenses.
Of course, trying to apply rationale to a mind where reason has never had a home is futile, but if it is possible to apply a guiding philosophy to America’s tango-smacked president, it is his core belief that might is always right.
As a consequence, the world is left in two minds as to whether it should stare into the abyss, or through the asylum window to see if the orderlies can at least apply restraint rather than encourage the madness.
But perhaps – and we know it is a long shot given its struggles to attract eyeballs in far closer proximity – the global number crunchers could be encouraged instead to look at the Leinster football championship as a kind of controlled experiment into what happens when “might is right” goes from being a throwaway rhyming catchphrase to overarching governance policy.
Think of it less as a football competition and more of a future dystopian landscape, when one weaponised superpower torches all others, turning all hope into ashes.
For those who have struggled to pay rent in Dublin’s world that is far easier to imagine than you might think.
Dessie Farrell’s team head to Aughrim on Sunday in search of a 43rd consecutive Leinster championship win as they head out on a bid/stroll to win a 15th title in a row – and a 20th inside 21 years.
If you are feeling something in your gut and you have self diagnosed it as anticipation, it might be best to go see a doctor.
As to how we got here, well that’s a well worn tale at this stage, but one which has a certain and obvious resonance.
The country’s biggest county was hyper centrally funded to exploit its vast potential and size to see just how great it could become and all at the expense of others less developed with greater needs, who were asked to tighten their coaching belts and sustain themselves on a smaller piece of the fiscal and development pie.
Well, what do you know? The bigger got greater and the needier shrunk into relative oblivion.
In a way that summation is a tad unfair in that it was not the primary reason for Dublin’s dominance; the emergence of generational talents and a manager with the nous to turn them into a footballing killing machine the likes of which we had never seen before most certainly was.
However, neither was one entirely divorced from the other.
But the real failure of governance was by those whose duty it was to protect the integrity of its championship.
Instead, the Leinster Council was blinded by the sight of one cash cow in a big green field with a full udder that they could not resist milking it for all that it was worth, while the neighbouring stock hungrily looked over the wall while they grazed on the long acre.
The best and biggest were given home advantage year on year, just to be sure, to be sure and the warnings that there would be a payback for making bad worse were not heeded until the cash cow was all but milked dry.
That it took this long for Leinster to finally move all of its rounds outside of the final out of Croke Park was taken only because it was persuaded by the apathy a monopolised market generates, as attendances fell year on year
But the idea that a lesson has been heeded and that after all these years the championship will somehow heal itself, and competitive integrity will be restored is as wistful as hoping that The Donald will be magically invested with good manners and even better sense.
This weekend, there are games of some intrigue, but of little consequence.
The loser of Kildare/Westmeath drops into the Tailteann Cup, but it is a slow news day when that excites the chattering classes. After all, the novelty of that wore thin when Kildare dropped down there last year and still could not even make the last four.
Offaly have a real chance of beating Meath, building on their Mickey Harte factor and the momentum of a Division 3 title win, but even if they do their only reward is to become number 44 on Dublin’s joyless trudge to another title.
If it’s Meath, there is the prospect of a better atmosphere in a smaller venue, but no one is pretending that there is any prospect of a better outcome for them.
But what makes this smothering sense of inevitability of another routine Leinster championship even more depressing, is that this is a modestly good Dublin team at best, a very pale blue version of what they were in their imperious pomp.
They are a team shy of most of their era defining leaders, in a constant state of transition with huge question marks over their goalkeeper and defence, and an unhealthy reliance on their stand-out forward, Con O’Callaghan.
And yet none of that matters, because the damage of two decades of unprecedented domination has laid the rest of them to waste.
It is not just within the province, outside it Leinster teams are a competitive irrelevance.
Louth’s win over Cork last summer was the first time in 12 games that a Leinster team (outside of Dublin) had beaten a team from outside the province in the Sam Maguire. That is not an outlier but par for the course.
The greatest hope for change in Leinster is someday soon Dublin will grow so bored from winning something which now means so little to them that they will fall into a coma – all the more likely given its diluted impact in the All-Ireland series.
But when one team’s tedium trumps another’s awakening, no one should be fooled into thinking they have witnessed the start of something new.
The reality is Dublin may be a diminished force but yet they are still the undisputed kings of their diminished world.
And if you look through that orange viewfinder, the real world might look no different.
To embed this post, copy the code below on your site
Eastern Crisis GAA Gaelic Football Leinster