Last week in ‘The Irish Times’, that excellent writer Tom Humphries made the point that, in all the soap operas which have appeared on RTE down through the years (including ‘The Riordans’, ‘Bracken’, ‘Glenroe’ as well as ‘Fair City’ and the late lamented ‘Tolka Row’), there has scarcely ever been a mention of Gaelic games. This, despite the centrality of the GAA to community affairs, not just in rural areas, but even in the heart of the city (as Humphries himself has recorded in his marvellous book, ‘Four Green Fields’). Now, in one fell swoop, RTÉ has gone to the opposite extreme, basing an entire series on the fortunes of a GAA club (the incomparable literally Kildoran in “On Home Ground”).

After just two programmes, it is clear that whoever is responsible for this series hasn’t the faintest grasp of the nature of the GAA organisation at local level. RTÉ - already struggling financially - are now faced with a double whammy. There is a large slice of Irish society which, for all sorts of reasons, wishes to have nothing to do with Gaelic games and the GAA. These are unlikely to be devotees of the new series. On the other hand, the even larger slice of Irish life which has a passionate devotion to Gaelic games will already have dismissed “On Home Ground” as a travesty, bearing no resemblance to the reality of this great assoosheeeation of ours as realised on a daily basis in every parish in the land.

It is said that great literature reflects the daily life of the common individual. Yet there is almost a complete absence of literature of any kind relating to the role of sport in Irish society. Of course, Ireland is not alone in this respect. Despite its centrality to the life of the English working- class (and, indeed, its middle-class descendants), can you think of a single piece of literature which celebrates English soccer? Nick Hornby is an exception, but his accounts of being an Arsenal fan (the poor wretch) are essentially autobiographical, and not the stuff of great fiction.

Nor can An Moltóir think of even one English film in which soccer was the central focus. The Rugby League culture of the North of England did get a run out in “A Wonderful Life”, but that was forty years ago. Around the same time, John Gregson was winning an All-Ireland hurling medal in the Kilkenny colours in the film “Rooney” (apparently Waterford who won the actual game depicted in the film wouldn’t allow him to wear the white and blue: deservedly, they haven’t won an All-Ireland since). The Americans have given sport considerable filmic attention (boxing, golf, horse racing, American football and baseball all come to mind) but has that country produced even one significant piece of literature based on its sporting life?

It occurs to An Moltóir that possibly those who write literature are people who, in the main, have little interest in, or perhaps even an outright aversion to sport. They were probably the bookish types who hated being forced out onto the playing fields at school. They would know little about the ins and outs of playing for, or administering, a sports club. They turn off when social discussion turns to sporting matters. When David O’Leary drove in the winning goal against Romania in 1990 they probably weren’t even aware that the game was taking place. For all they know or care, DJ Carey could be the local District Justice.

And these are the very people who have brought us “On Home Ground”. We are presented with a GAA club (Kildoran) which has a “coaching staff”, a Chairman who wears a fur-lined jacket and watches championship matches from the stand, a Treasurer drawn from the landed gentry and a Secretary who misses a championship match because he has a job on. We have a “coach” who can’t put two words together in the dressing room and who instructs his players to do laps and press-ups on the training field, even though he is supposed to have the services of a specialised trainer. We have matches (two so far) in which we have a score a minute in the first half and a single score in the second half (lasting 35 minutes, apparently). There isn’t a priest in sight, and where are the beef-to-the-heels women who keep the GAA going all over the country?

People have been complaining about the obvious lack of basic research in evidence in the series, but this is to miss the point. The whole exercise has been misconceived. If you are not part of the GAA, you have no way of knowing what it is all about the long nights spent freezing in dingy meeting rooms… the joy of seeing a raw eight-year-old hurler make clean contact with the sliothar for the first time … the door-to-door slog selling tickets and lines… the handbag fights with the mothers of the opposing under-12 team … the agony of the missed penalty in the final of the Junior B championship…

It has long been obvious that the people who run the RTE sports room have little interest in the GAA. They break into Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh’s do-or-die commentary on a Munster hurling championship battle to advertise products which An Moltóir resolves immediately never to buy again. They give us live and unending commentary on a Longford Town versus Bohemians National League game watched by 500 people when all over the country there are ten or more times that many screaming at GAA matches. They give us Tom McGurk and George Hook’s knowledgeable and passionate views on rugby games and then they give us Ger Canning…They can give you the seed, breed and generation of the Ipswich Town left wing back, but have never heard of Graigue-Ballycallan, haven’t a clue how to pronounce Oulart-The Ballagh and think that Longford Slashers are characters from a John Carpenter film.

So what can you expect from the Drama Department? Can you imagine the following exchanges at an editorial meeting:

“I say, there appears to be a lot of gaily-coloured people around town today”.
“Well, sir, it says in the ‘Times’ here that something called the All-Ireland final is to be staged in Dublin in the afternoon”.
“My God, if there is that much public interest, there must be a market for a drama series based on these quaint cultural practices”.
“What have you in mind, sir?”
“Well, like ‘Glenroe’, it must be based on the urban-rural fringe, so that we can show occasional shots of Dublin and draw in the urban market, while simultaneously catering for rural tastes. But just in case that doesn’t work, we’d better throw in lots of good-looking women, a few rolls in the hay, and a bit about marital breakdown and communications difficulties between parents and their children”.
“But what’s in it for the rural audience, sir?”
“Ah, don’t be silly, Shaun. Won’t there be football matches, plenty of boozing and drunkenness and the odd shot of a cow in a field”.
“And who should we get to write this series, sir?”
“Well there’s this playwright called Antaine Ó Flatharta. With a name like that, he’s bound to have the pulse of rural Ireland wrapped around his little finger (if you’ll pardon the mixed metaphor)”.
“Very droll, sir. And where do you think I might find him?”
“I believe he’s living in Dublin 4 somewhere”.
“Excellent, sir. That should save us a few bob in expenses”.

‘Vote On It!’:
What Do You Think of the RTÉ series ‘On Home Ground’?