Intrigue as GAA derail Croker soccer, rugby plan

By Mark Jones

DUBLIN — It was a collision of politics and sports. The GAA’s controversial decision last weekend not to open up Croke Park to rugby and soccer seemed on the face of it just another example of diehard conservatism. But behind the decision hung a web of intrigue, of big money, of pressure. As the association’s annual congress reflected on its deliberations, there was clear evidence that the tail had wagged the dog.

You see, in the run-up to congress, all the talk had been about how much the GAA needed extra cash because the redevelopment of Croke Park had overrun to £174 million. So, logic had to prevail. Repeal the long-standing Rule 42, which prohibits the playing of other sports in GAA grounds, invite major soccer and rugby games into headquarters, and reap the financial rewards. Surely, even the old stagers had to see the sense in that.

And Roscommon had raised a motion calling for Croke Park to be made available to other sporting organizations. Just Croke Park, mind you. Not every field in the country, so it wasn’t as if the nationwide integrity of Gaelic games was about to be tarnished. Last Saturday, as the delegates gathered in the Burlington Hotel in Dublin, they knew the vote would be close, but this time, the GAA would show its new millennium colors.

The debate was passionate, heated. Three former presidents, Con Murphy, John Dowling and Pat Fanning, spoke fervently against the Roscommon proposal. The moment of truth arrived. There were 176 votes in favor — was that enough? And 89 votes against. That had to be enough, history in the making. But wait, the yes camp was just one single vote short of the two-thirds majority. One vote.

That couldn’t be right. The archaic counting procedure of totting up hands had got it wrong. Suddenly, someone was saying that about 35 delegates never cast a vote, and that current presiden, Sean McCague, and a leading official, Peter Quinn — two proponents of bringing soccer and rugby to Croke Park — had not voted either Amid an atmosphere of confusion, a recount was demanded. One vote was the difference, there had to be a recount.

Well, in fact, there didn’t have to be a recount, because McCague said he was having none of it. The result stood, and Roscommon’s motion had been derailed. Suddenly, confusion had turned to recrimination. The system of voting was a farce, the counting might not have been accurate — and where were those missing delegates when the vote was being taken?

So, no open-door policy, no rugby or soccer for Croke Park in the immediate future. But why? Well, consider this. The day before the vote — must have been a coincidence — the Irish government had just happened to pledge £100 million to the GAA over the next five years. A total of £60 million for the redevelopment of Croke Park, which includes £15 million to stage the opening ceremony of the Special Olympics in 2003, and a further £40 million for upgrading other association facilities around Ireland.

In return, the GAA promised to play a number of high-profile football and hurling games at the planned new Stadium Ireland, which is scheduled to be open for business in West Dublin in 2006. But what has all this got to do with the rejection of the Roscommon motion at congress? Quite a bit actually.

With the projected cost of Stadium Ireland and its accompanying sports campus projected to run to close to £1 billion, the Irish government has come under increasing pressure to justify the plan when Croke Park appears to be an ideal alternative as a national stadium. But it seems that the taoiseach and self-confessed sports fan, Bertie Ahern, is adamant that

Stadium Ireland will see the light of day.

If rugby and soccer are played at Croke Park with success over the next couple of years, there might be more calls for the scrapping of the BertieBowl. When the medical system is in a mess, and when the educational system is threatened by striking teachers, why pump money into a monstrous sports project when Croke Park stands ready for use?

So the cynics and the conspiracy theorists believed that Ahern and the government didn’t want to see any change in the GAA rulebook, they didn’t want any sporting liberals threatening the future of the BertieBowl. In response, the GAA sold its soul by not truly wanting to push through the repeal of Rule 42. Somewhere along the line, the traditional democracy of the annual congress had been compromised.

There was no lead during the debate from president McCague, and no voting procedure that satisfied the vast majority of delegates. It all could have been a coincidence, and maybe this time next year, the rule will be changed. But in the space of 12 months, Ahern and the government will have plowed ahead with Stadium Ireland, and the GAA will have its multi-million-pound cash windfall for Croke Park.