Irelands Neo-Liberal Soccer Team

Many years ago my late father brought me to an Ireland soccer match—it was against Austria in Dalymount Park—Ireland lost 4-1 but I was smitten! My dad passed away the following year but I kept going to the games as the team moved on to John Giles, and he introduced the brilliant Liam Brady. Giles was responsible for bringing a new professionalism to our game-and under his guidance interest in our national team blossomed-—but yet in its own way versus GAA and Rugby, the national team only had a dedicated hardcore cult following. So when Jack Charlton took control against Wales in March 1986—there were only 13,000 in Lansdowne road—the fans had seen the team make heroic efforts at qualification for the world cup under Eoin Hand only to be denied by dubious refereeing decisions. Charlton it seemed brought hope and the fact that he came from the English game and was a world cup winner himself served to rubber stamp his suitability for the tasks ahead. We lost that match 1-0 but it marked the international debuts of Ray Houghton and John Aldridge. Two years later with considerable good fortune so desperately denied to his predecessors Charlton brought his Ireland team to it’s first major championship in Germany! Even at this stage the interest in the Irish soccer team had still not fully manifested itself—and heading off to Germany to support the team I felt like a member of a cult whom had suddenly found popular recognition. In the years that followed there were many changes and much more success—the empty seats in Lansdowne road were now full and tickets became more expensive and had to be block booked in order to retain your place among the faithful, then we had Italia 90-and USA -94, and the momentum ran away madly with itself—and suddenly the Irish international team became big business. I attended all the home games right up till the end of the nineties and paid a considerable sum of money each year for both myself and my son—it was part of our life and it was heart warming and very emotional at times. However soon the ticket prices went beyond what I could afford as you had to book and pay for six tickets at a time and I settled for watching the games on television. Saipan lives on in the minds of the Irish people as one of the most important events in Irish history never mind soccer. Roy Keane basically refused to play and headed home—he more than anyone had fought for the cause that led to our qualification for the world cup in Japan in 2002! What happened in Saipan was to scar Ireland and Irish soccer for years afterwards. Keane complained of sub-standard preparation accusing both the FAI and manager Mick McCarthy of lacking in professionalism and ambition. Keane went home and John Delaney the FAI CEO let him go—without even addressing the issues that Keane had raised. I for one, and I am sure all true soccer supporters were dumfounded. Ireland went on to perform with credit all the more perplexing as in hindsight one wonders constantly at Keane’s reference to ambition. Irish football went into limbo after the resignation of the tired Mick McCarthy he was replaced by Brian Kerr in 2004—however Kerr needing time failed to qualify for that European championship but only narrowly failed to qualify for the 2006 world cup. Having coaxed Roy Keane back from retirement—a controversial and ultimately pointless effort as Keane had passed his best-Kerr was sacked. Stephen Staunton followed Kerr but his reign was a disaster particularly for John Delaney and the FAI who now needed to react aggressively in the light of the fans displeasure with Staunton and the FAI in general as the wounds of Saipan had not fully healed. Now this is where the neoliberals finally took control—gone were the concerns [he still voices them] by Roy Keane about Irelands stunted level of expectation and in rolled the might of the euro. Ireland appointed Giovanni Trapattoni as their manager in May 2008-nothing wrong with that he was a manager of great experience. Denis O’ Brien controversial businessman offered to pay part of Trapattoni’s salary and Ireland had finally made the transition from an international team with fanatical almost cult like support-to a business complete with merchandising –ticket sales, and a product that had world wide potential. So over the following few years Croke Park was sold out and the one time that I could afford the €70 ticket for Ireland v France world cup play off 1st leg—instead of action replays on the big screen I got Jim from Eircom [failed company] selling me crap. So this was it I thought leaving the stadium Ireland had finally arrived-gone were the days when only 13,000 showed up to watch Jack Charlton’s first game-we now could sell over 70,000 seats in Irelands largest stadium to watch a losing team against a weakfish French side- and us managed by an old hack of a manager. Also we were now sponsored by a controversial entrepreneur –complete with Jim from Eircom selling his wares constantly throughout the game. So 2012 and Ireland head to Poland with the Irish public forever hopeful and John Delaney and the FAI rubbing their hands—money-money—but they were about to slip on their own Banana skin-their manager or Denis O’ Brien’s manager was utterly out of his depth. Someday there will be documentary made regarding this mans ineptitude. His press conferences are designed to confuse and to give the uneducated the false impression that the manager is learned and deeply committed to his football philosophy! Truth is he has no philosophy save to say [Roy Keane again] he has no ambition-he has no faith in his players so he sets them up not to lose—or if they lose not to be hammered. He displays this time and time again by his squad selections-then his team selections and finally his confused substitutions. When we qualified for this tournament it was time to reward the likes of Robbie Keane-Damien Duff and Shay Given not indulge them. The manager’s duty was not to these individuals but to us the fans and the citizens of Ireland. On television Eamonn Dunphy who was visibly intimidated by Liam Brady patronised Liam re-his old friend so often that it rendered his analysis void-to the point where he wondered would Liam ask Trap if he could get it us to play like Swansea city-my goodness.Then he went on to praise the backroom team of the show for well doing what they are paid to do—like there was something heroic about that? Trapattoni could have rewarded his team but also he could have added new young blood to compliment them-the older players looked jaded-we needed an energy more than anything. This is why we were overrun so often! Yesterday Monaghan Utd—folded as a premier league of Ireland club—our soccer panel didn’t mention it—the Republic of Ireland were the only team at euro 2012-without a domestic league player in their squad-this sad fact reflects the crisis that is our game in this country. Whilst Dunphy espouses the greatness of the English league our league is underfunded and poorly supported save for the fanatical few that love the game of soccer. I could get Con Murphy to run a few tapes of the young players throughout our league that Mr –Trap might learn from-it would be as good as anything Swansea city have produced. There you go---no doubt Dunphy has little interest in the huge amounts of money he pockets from spinning the English Premier league.Of course he unashamedly praises the great Irish fans--knowing many of them are resident Man utd -Liverpool supporters who favour the high stool, when watching soccer. So will the Irish fans wrestle the game back from the neoliberals-I doubt it mind you save that if they keep the ambitionless and ridiculous Trapattoni in charge the product might just drop in sales till eventually it is withdrawn altogether—Roy Keane was actually right all along!

Dogs of War

Ever since I was a small child I have had a rather ambivalent relationship with dogs—but in those days at least where I lived dogs were treated differently than the general pampering they get now. Back then the dog assimilated into the family—they ran wild around the streets growing benignly with children. The dogs around our place took on the general likeness of the family and sitting at the garden gate—they often appeared allegorically to express the personality of the family who owned them. All our dogs adopted the surnames of their owners thus we had Kim Young a likable little mongrel who changed personality once you got by the front doorstep—and we had Darkie Larkin who was dark and a great barker but you might only pet him once—if you valued your hand. We also had the never to be petted Spot Heffernan and another little thing called Patch White who was white and that seemed to fit perfectly. We used to play games by opening and shutting gates corralling our dogs like the cattle in the cowboy films. Alas perhaps my new found problem relates to an incident when I was about four whilst riding my tricycle and a neighbouring dog took a bite of my thigh as I rode by—it was a horrible invasive feeling to feel his teeth break my skin. Yet years later we got our own little dog –he was called Sam a delightful little cross between a sheep dog and some mongrel that had made it false promises. He was a great little fella full of tail wags and affection. Sam was really intelligent also if I brought him for a walk to Killiney beach he would stop suddenly and investigate what turned out to be my mother’s car parked at the dart station. Years later when I moved to new estate near my mother’s he would suddenly appear looking in the window whilst I watched television—he was really my brothers dog but he knew us and he loved and was loyal to us all. There is a problem though you see when my mother moved house all those years ago—Sam moved to his new environment without fuss—but he took an instant dislike to the postman and when the poor fella came delivering our letters Sam would growl-that deep doggy growl that we all know comes directly from the wolf. Whoever was close by might tell him to stop and laughingly tell the uncomfortable postman—'that he is grand really and he would never bite.' In that last passage of play lies the problem with dogs-and the main problem with dogs is the stupidity and selfishness of the dog owner. Dogs are no longer the child’s best friend who go exploring the world alongside their beloved companions—as described so often literature the dog that swam lakes-or disarmed thugs to save the kid—no now with the advent of neo-liberal social dogma,the dog has become an adult plaything. I am convinced people use then to replace some sort of lost emotion-and it is not hard to figure really considering that our sole purpose is to create wealth and if we can’t do that for any reason we become the runts of society. Men and women have adopted different attitudes to dogs with women favouring the smaller cuddly dogs they can dance with or put clothes on and see if they fit. Men prefer the hunting companion and they like a good hound—and whilst the boxer breed is still popular I detect a worrying trend in the arrival of the Alaskan Husky whom I am sure would be more at home in Alaska but there you go. So where is my problem with all of this I hear you scream everyone loves dogs and so what if you need a companion---how bad is that? Well let me explain I will leave the disgusting and dangerous amount of dog shit left on our pathways, fields, beaches and parks and other amenities to share with you the crucial point of my thesis which is true to my own personal experience. I had a heart-by pass when I was 46 in 2005—and luckily for me I made a decent recovery I had also been diagnosed with type two diabetes so exercise was suggested as a cure—or at least as a good way of keeping this horrible disease under control. So walk I did in what was my beautiful local park in Shankill—this is before I moved to West Cork. So off I went gradually building up my confidence from a short worrisome walk to really power walking which helped me both re-build my mental and physical strength—I got really good at this walking lark until I could walk a few km’s in a very reasonable time. I was doing really well the only problem I experienced was that for some reason one of the medications I was taking made sound seem a little distorted—it was uncomfortable to hear the loud screech of an engine—or a bird calling to another-sometimes a leaf falling from a tree would be more like the sound of a bowling ball than a leaf. You guessed it—then I went to war with dogs, a particularly nasty little black thing that lived in St Anne’s park took a partial dislike to me and a complete dislike to my recovery. He would come a barking and a growling as I heroically walked by—but then even worse a boxer dog who couldn’t understand how such a an undeserving specimen as I had survived open heart surgery had a go also—till I had to stop one day—frozen by a sudden and explicable fear. I asked the lady owner to control her dog and she then lazily and only half apologising at the interruption of my power walk, said casually, ‘She doesn’t like your hat!’ I spent sometime later wondering firstly about hats and then about dog owners and the way they form logic—how could a human know for sure what a dog is thinking—do dogs think in that way—why wasn’t the dog on a lead? There are signs up at all the entrances to Shankill park regarding leads—they hadn’t then but they have their own dog walking area now. I digress, I now have a mental image of people walking the stupid mutts in these enclosures—perhaps if they put the owners in the pens and allowed the dogs open and close the gate? Here in Courtmacsherry there are not the same amount of dogs as you get in urban areas—indeed when I lived here first time round I rarely met any dogs whilst walking. Although the footpaths in Cobh are fouled with dog excrement I didn’t have any major run in with dogs when I lived there. Recently while out the walkway I met a limping stray dog who came towards me with great speed and purpose—of course I stopped my power-walking and went rigid. However this dog whom I can only describe as a cross between a brown bear and an Alsatian, took a shine to me and on the way back to the village for once I got a chance to tell a local female dog walker that he was alright and that his bark was worse than his bite— and that he wasn’t about to devour her and the two whippets she walked. So the dogs of war—each day a small dog attacks me from the stable yard beyond the hotel—but it is the beach car-park where I have most problems. People pull in here and lazily sit in their cars. They then allow Fido piss and crap with impunity in what is one of our beauty spots—three times I have been barked at growled upon and chased by dogs there, and on the beach itself. Maybe only fellow survivors of open heart surgery will fully understand the extent of the anxiety these invasive attacks on the person causes. Perhaps only true dog-lovers really want this nonsense to continue where dogs are more valued than people, as all of this is a true account. A little dog came a growling and a biting recently as I chilled out. Feeling the wind blow across the waves in one of the most beautiful places on earth, rigid me called to the owner wondering why her dog wasn’t under control.You got it her reply referred once more to my hat—and I have now declared war on dogs and their owners.

The Evils of Democracy

I have been thinking about our sad little referendum and I search myself for answers as to why the majority of people voted the way they did. There are the obvious reasons like fear and greed –but are the yes voters anymore greedy or fearful than the no voters? By their action most of them are. Then if one studies humanity there are clues to be spotted—and as previously highlighted in my blogs the whole damn thing really comes down to whatever ideology a person indulges in. There is a huge movement in the USA—it is neoliberal Christian and right wing—it is also racist and anti-poor. These people look on welfare recipients as spongers and lazy—their ethic is to be hard working and rich—they also frown upon sexuality outside of the narrow frame of pro-creation,they are anti-womens rights and they are distinctly- anti gay. These people have inherited the world and they are spreading their poison across the Atlantic Ocean to a polling booth near you. They are aided and abetted by right wing politicians here who spread their neoliberal muck for them—people like Lucinda Creighton, Leo Varadkar---and Simon Coveney to name but a few. Fianna Fail have them also as do the Labour Party with their recent converts like Joan Burton and Eamonn Gilmore. Of course all is done by stealth if you asked anyone voting yes last week about neo-liberalism they would look at you incredulously and ask 'neo-liberal who?' So all stays fine for the pushers of this ideology as people won’t run unless they see the tsunami coming. Neo-liberalism comes gift wrapped in the form of economic sense versus the cloud cuckoo land madness espoused by the left. Whatever about the role that Christianity plays here [perhaps that is best left for another day]—democracy plays a leading role in this. Democracy is feted by the neoliberals basically because they can control it completely—as they own the media and if you own the media you have complete control. The lies and misinformation spouted leading up to the referendum were noting short of scandalous. Also the amount of bribery and the instillation of fear on the electorate was hugely decisive in raising the yes vote. 'People have fought wars and died for the right to vote,' is a quote one hears quite often, this is more neo-liberal nonsense as many of these said people were so poor that they fought wars for their political masters and the prospect of money—they had no ideology outside of this. Democracy is corrupted by the neo-liberal agenda and if you own everything you can convince the majority of people that what is blatantly wrong is good for them. If I present an issue to six people in a room—who are ignorant and the only source of information they can have is through channels that I control—all six will vote my way so what is so great about that system? The neo-liberals have control over mighty armies also—and if they feel threatened they will use them—they are at present restoring democracy to Iraq and Afghanistan they are on their way to Iran—anywhere they can victimise non-whites and non Christians they will. I sometimes wonder about it all—the fast cars and the nice clothes-the hard workers who can afford all of these things—remember these are people who get out of their beds in the morning—I wonder do they think of the unemployed father or the unmarried mother who live in some of their ideologically created ghetto’s? I doubt it as they work so hard for what they have-and they want this to be allegorically announced to the world. I am certain that in one stage of evolution people celebrated the end to autocracy—and neoliberals will tell us of mass murder and present the whole image as dark and dangerous—but the amount of humans killed both directly and indirectly by neo-liberalism is incalculable,how great our democracy is for the small few that control it!