Tightwad Cork seals its hurling decline

Fresh out of college, he presented an excellent academic resume and included the detail that he hurled for his county. Reviewing his qualifications, the prospective employer asked him whether he’d be prepared to give up the game because the hours were long and, really, they couldn’t afford for him to be distracted by a hobby.
Some of us were reared with the knowledge that those lucky few who proved talented and determined enough to one day wear their county jersey would be looked after in life. Around Ireland, trainers and selectors used to assure the gifted teenagers in their charge that a place on the county senior team would be their ticket to employment. When a youngster’s focus was wavering, a mentor might even point out that you’d have to look long and hard through the pen pics in an All-Ireland final program to find an unemployed intercounty player. Oh, how times have changed. Many employers are less interested in the profile accorded by having a hurler of footballer on the company roster and more taken with the ability of their staff to work long hours.
Competition is so intense now that sporting status is worth a lot less than it used to be. When a journalist arrived at the workplace of one Cork hurler a couple of years back, he had to go on the phone to the U.S. headquarters of the multi-national to explain why a TV crew were on the premises seeking to talk to one of the employees. The days when a wily foreman gave the star player the freedom to head off early for training or an interview are a thing of the past. Playing for your county now is as likely to cost you money as it used to be to cosset you and this is why the Gaelic Players’ Association has emerged as a force.
When the players were looked after with a nod and a wink in other eras, there was no real need for the GPA. Back then, the Cork hurlers and footballers were reputed to be among the best provided-for in the country. In terms of meals, travel arrangements and provision of gear, they did better than most.
Somewhere along the way, however, Cork got left behind. Well, that’s the view of the county’s hurling squad, who have widely articulated the belief they’ve been treated as “second-class citizens.” The county board inevitably disagree, and the difference in opinion has Cork hurling in a serious crisis.
Two weeks ago, Bertie Og Murphy tendered his resignation after one very disappointing year in charge. Having proven his credentials at Under-21
level, Murphy’s sole campaign in charge of the seniors (many of whom won All-Irelands with him at Under-21) was blighted by controversy as the players and the county board were at constant loggerheads The saddest part of the whole debacle is that an honorable servant of Cork hurling felt compelled to walk away. What else could Murphy do? The county board are adamant they will not cave to the demands of players who have grown more bolshie in the weeks and months since their embarrassing 10-point All-Ireland quarterfinal loss to Galway.
The players have a couple of legitimate grievances. For a league game against Derry this season, the Cork squad had to get a bus the length of the island rather than fly. A small thing but coming from one of the best-off counties, this was penny-pinching. Similarly, the board refuse to pay for players to join a gym of their choice in order to weight train in their spare time, arguing that all players have access to the facilities at Silver Springs Hotel in Cork City. Cork is a large county. Many players do not live in the city and, again, the impression of the authorities cutting off their nose to spite their face is obvious. Sure, they are saving a few bob but at the expense of inconveniencing the people who matter most — the players. In the meantime, there were reports of the newest members of the squad coming under pressure from officials not to join the GPA.
The easiest conclusion to draw is that there is a generation gap here. The county board is populated by men who grew up in very different times with a different set of values and a very different outlook on the world. The squad is peopled by twenty-somethings who are struggling to balance the demands of what amounts to professional training regimens with the need to further their vocational careers in a fiercely competitive economy. The schism between the two is exacerbated by the presence of Frank Murphy. Secretary of the Cork county board and a selector on the hurling team this year, Murphy holds far too much influence. Like him or loathe him, he appears too much of an old-school hardliner at a time when what they need is somebody more capable of d