- Lifestyle & Sports
- 01 Jun 10
The All-Ireland football championship is about to start. And while it will undoubtedly be as thrilling as ever, serious questions now hang over the format of the competition, with the 'back-door' system increasingly rendering the summer’s early skirmishes irrelevant.
With only three weeks to go before the greatest show on Earth explodes into life, the likelihood is that it will be late July before I get a chance to touch on the second-greatest show on Earth, so now seems as good a time as any to ponder what delights may lie in store for us in the All-Ireland Hurling and Football Championships.
Of course, chances are that the next few weeks' exchanges will largely be phoney-war stuff, and we'll reach late July with most of the principal powers still intact. While the hurling championship is now structured about as sensibly as could be expected (Galway's move into Leinster was a badly-needed shot in the arm for a near-moribund Leinster championship) the football set-up does seem to be in dire need of reform. The biggest problem at present is that the back-door system has diluted the appeal of the four provincial championships, robbing them of any pretence that they are flat-out, cut-throat, do-or-die events.
This isn't to knock the 'back door' on principle; the concept is perfectly sound. The idea of giving weaker counties a second bite of the cherry is inherently admirable, it has undoubtedly played a major part in improving standards across the board, and no-one wants to see a return to the days where half the nation's teams were knocked out of the All-Ireland after losing one game.
But the problem is that, to a very real extent, the structure now seems to reward teams who start the summer badly. Teams who obliterate all-comers in their province, and then go on to lose one game in the knockout stages, aren't afforded any second chance. That's it, tough shit, you're gone, pack your bags and go home.
Dublin's imperious displays in winning five straight Leinster titles, then consistently imploding in the knockout stages, serve to demonstrate the point perfectly. This was never more vividly illustrated than last year, when they were caught cold by a Kerry team which had been routed by Cork and then come within a nose-hair of losing to Sligo, Longford and Antrim.
But crucially, the Kingdom had got the mistakes out of their system, got plenty of game-time under their belts, and had been afforded the opportunity to ripen and evolve into a cohesive unit. The manner of their final three performances certainly entitled them to be accepted without reservation as the best team in the country, but the point is that they were preposterously lucky to survive four abjectly awful displays beforehand. In truth, if the 'second bite at the cherry' principle is accepted as legitimate, it should surely be extended to every county. This may of course open up a logistical nightmare in terms of scheduling — what happens if the four provincial champions all lose their first knockout game? — so the only just solution is screamingly obvious.
We have 32 counties. Even after you throw in London and New York, and scratch Kilkenny (where a youngster declaring that he prefers football to hurling may as well state to his family and friends that he wants to be a ballerina) this leaves a very neat opportunity to break the teams down into eight groups in a Champions League-style format, with 16 advancing into a straight knockout phase.
The draw could obviously be seeded, though I'd prefer if it were completely open: who wouldn't lap up a Group of Death containing Cork, Kerry, Dublin and Tyrone, and who could complain if it was produced by a fair and open draw? And would a group containing Carlow, Waterford, Leitrim and Roscommon really be the end of the world if it enabled two of them to go forth and test themselves against the best? The advantages are so obvious it renders this one a no-brainer: you would have a guaranteed minimum of three competitive matches for every county in every year's Championship, a near-certain initial increase in public interest courtesy of the novelty factor, the prospect of points difference coming into play to ensure that all parties would be wise to expend 70 minutes of flat-out maximum effort — and you would leave no opportunity for any county to complain that they were being short-changed by the system.
There would be the prospect of the very occasional 'dead rubber' between teams who were already either through or already on their way out, but these would be no more frequent than is the case at soccer World Cups. In truth, there would be far fewer genuinely meaningless games than there are at present.
The downside is that you would, of course, be scrapping the provincial championships once and for all. But why worry about killing something that's already 80% dead? If your dog becomes too old, infirm, blind and feeble to enjoy its life, most of us would elect to grit our teeth, take it to the vet, fight back the tears, bid sweet farewells and euthanise the beloved creature. I've no doubt that the same will eventually become the norm for gravely ill human beings, subject to their consent. The bald truth is, the provincial championships have no real relevance any more, a development that became inevitable from the minute the back-door was introduced.
Cork will play Kerry next month in the Munster semi-final, for about the 486th time this decade. And it won't matter at all; it will be a glorified friendly. Sure, they'll both want to win, will be stirred into life at the mere sight of one another, and will probably feel — with some misgivings — that a straight passage to the last eight is wiser than taking their chances via the long road (plus Cork will be going for three Munsters in a row). But the point is, the fans of whichever county loses will not exactly be weeping into their beer, nor will the fans of whichever county wins be under any illusions that they've done the hard part.
And that's surely the most damning indictment of the current structure: a Cork-Kerry meeting should be enough to set the hairs standing up on the back of necks nationwide, every single time they come face to face, rather than provoking yawns and wake-me-up-when-it's over declarations of disinterest.
Anyway, having dissed the provincial championships at length, obviously I still can't resist offering you my much sought-after views on who's going to win them (Dublin, Galway, Cork and Armagh). Enjoy!