The GAA’s special congress once more served to demonstrate just how much out of touch the people who represent their counties at these congresses are with their own membership and with the general public (most of whom, God bless them, remain avid GAA fans)…

One assumes that the members of the Strategic Review Committee were not so naïve as to become disheartened as even the most innocuous motions were routinely rejected by the white-haired (and no-haired) attendance: indeed, the committee’s chairman, Peter Quinn, more or less said that himself. The committee did achieve one notable victory in managing to have a five-year maximum term of office imposed on county board officials. An Moltóir knows of at least one such official who has been in the position for so long that he still thinks £5 is a lot of money (and is possibly not even aware that the pound has now been replaced by the euro).

At the same time, for all their foibles, the superannuated timeservers who ritualistically turn up at Congress to block progress are, for the most part, ordinary Joes (we could do with a few more Josephines) who are enmeshed in the Association’s affairs at local level. However, at the other end of the scale, An Moltóir has detected worrying signs that the top brass who run Croke Park are becomingly increasingly detached from the pulse of the organisation, to such an extent that they now treating their members and supporters with outright contempt.

An Moltóir is thinking in particular of the way the Croke Park mandarins handled the controversial question of attendances at the two All-Irelands this year. When the announced attendance at the hurling final fell 3,000 short of the new, improved capacity at headquarters, the honchos at Croke Park had the audacity to suggest that it was all down to turnstile malfunction. Who were they trying to kid? Certainly not those who were at the match and who could see the numerous empty seats for themselves. When it came to the football final, clearly the top brass decided to take no chances with further bad publicity. When the official attendance – 79,500 – appeared on the electronic scoreboard in the Nally Stand, An Moltóir mused to himself that this was a suspiciously round figure. Then, the following day, An Moltóir read in a newspaper that this was exactly the number of tickets issued for the game. Do they think we are complete imbeciles? Did not even one ticket go astray?

Well, An Moltóir is aware of one seat in his vicinity which remained vacant for the entire duration of the match. Perhaps it was someone with a weak heart who got through the main turnstiles but failed to make it up the interminable spiral walkway leading to the top deck. Or maybe it was someone who choked on one of the inedible hot dogs served up at one of the so-called catering outlets. But more about them later…

An Moltóir has heard it from other sources that the attendance shortfall at the hurling final was due to northern counties holding on to their allocation to the last minute hoping to do a swap deal with the hurling counties in the south and then handing the tickets back at the last minute when no deals materialised. But could not the GAA have put these tickets on sale in the now-celebrated launderette under the Independent bridge on the Drumcondra Road? Or could it be that they decided not to do this for fear of drawing further negative publicity on the already much-maligned system of distributing All-Ireland tickets? If this is the case, then surely it is a sign of an organisation that has completely lost the plot.

Now, dear reader, you may surmise that An Moltóir is being unnecessarily paranoid about all this. But it does fit in with other disturbing reports that have been circulating about the way Croke Park tickets were released for big games during the summer. An Moltóir has heard that, for the All-Ireland semi-final between Waterford and Clare, Croke Park initially released the worst tickets in the ground to the participating counties for public sale, apparently on the grounds that these would be snapped up by anxious supporters in the street desperate to make sure that they got to the game. Then the better seats were put on sale, as these would be easier to sell to the less anxious and the less committed. The end result is that more tickets got sold (very important if you are trying to clear the debt on Croke Park) and the true supporters got sold a pup.

Again, if this is true, it is a sign of an association whose top dogs are starting to get their priorities all wrong, and are in danger eventually of killing the geese laying the golden eggs. In any case it is high time the crazy system of allocating All-Ireland tickets was changed. It sounds all very democratic giving every club in the GAA six tickets, but when most of them always end up back in the competing counties anyway, then why not simply cut out the middle man (or men) and give them directly to those counties in the first place? And why doesn’t the GAA reward the regular fans by giving them priority access to tickets? This can be done very simply by issuing season tickets for the National League games, and allocating one All-Ireland ticket for every season ticket sold. This would have the bonus effect of boosting attendances at league games and generating extra revenue for the Association, while also acknowedging and rewarding the regular supporter. But then, the regular supporter never has seemed to matter much to the people in the swanking new offices at the back of the Canal End stand.

Which brings us back to the question of the catering facilities at Croke Park. Dedicated readers of this column will recall that An Moltóir had a day out at a big baseball game while holidaying in Chicago last year. The passage underneath the stands in Wrigley Field was lined with stalls selling every conceivable kind of food. Compare this with the situation in Croke Park where a single franchise operates what appears to be one stall behind each stand. At the football final, your scribe reckoned that a cup of coffee wouldn’t do any harm, but when he reached the front of the mob at the stall behind the Canal End, he was told that there was no tea, as they were waiting for the water to boil. What, they didn't have two water boilers to make sure that there was always hot water available? Well, no…

An Moltóir then made his way around to the next stall, half a mile away in the middle of the Cusack Stand. Now, regular Croke Park patrons should be aware that there are just six things on the menu at these stalls: tea, coffee, muffins, hot dogs, sandwiches and coke. The person ahead of your scribe in the mob asked for a sandwich. "Sorry, we’re out of sandwiches". He then asked for a muffin. "Sorry, son, we’re all ourra of muffins". A wit behind observed: "They mustn’t have been expecting the crowd". This, by the way, was before the senior final started. If ever one wanted a demonstration of the evils of monopoly, this was it. So, does anyone out there want to lead a campaign to have Mexican burritos and Italian pizza on sale in Croke Park next year? Or does the GAA walk on its own supporters like this because they allow themselves to be walked on?

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