Last Tuesday week Mary Harney stood at the lectern in St Finian's Church in Newcastle, Co Dublin, to mourn the passing of her father. Forty years before, she said, Mr Michael Harney had moved to rural Co Dublin from Galway to take a share in land divided by the Land Commission. He brought with him his passion for the Gaelic Athletic Association and, in particular, Galway football.

Bertie Ahern stood among the congregation. Later that day he, Charlie McCreevy and the Sports Minister, Jim McDaid, would offer the GAA the biggest financial donation in its history.

Ms Harney remained in the dark about the GAA's windfall until the following Friday evening, when Mr McCreevy, an old and much-valued friend, rang her to offer sympathy and a friendly ear after a bad week.

Finishing the conversation, Mr McCreevy mentioned that a deal had been done with the GAA and it was "along the lines" of the one already reached with the Football Association of Ireland to get it to play in the National Stadium.

Not surprisingly, the Tanaiste was not on full alert. Raising no objection, she nevertheless told the Minister for Finance she hoped the financial package was tied into wider access to GAA grounds. But it was not. Shortly after 7.30 p.m. that evening, the GAA president, Sean McCague, stunned the opening meeting of the organisation's congress with news of the £60 million.

The affair once more threatened relations within the Coalition. And it will remain a thorn for weeks until the Government agrees a way of "booting the problem up the pitch", in the words of one source.

The alarm bells sounded gradually within the Progressive Democrats' ranks. The lack of conditions was bad enough. The fact that they had been kept out of the loop was much, much worse. Cllr John Minihan went out first to express concern.

By Monday the Taoiseach realised he had ruffled feathers. A telephone conversation with the Tanaiste was arranged quickly. Left in no doubt about the PDs' stand, Mr Ahern met her on Tuesday morning for their usual discussion in advance of the weekly Cabinet meeting.

Inside the Cabinet Room, Dr McDaid was given three weeks to bring a formal proposal on the issue to the Government. An external review of the soaring costs of the National Stadium project was also promised.

Later that day, he ate humble pie in the Dail. The GAA deal had been "more rushed" than normal, but he pleaded that he was the victim of circumstance and forced to respond accordingly.

Irked by the attacks, he declared to Opposition guffaws: "I wish to reiterate that I am always honest and frank. I admit that there were breakdowns in communication and I apologise for that."

But his defence is riddled with holes. He had to rush, he said, because he found out only the week before that the GAA congress was actually going to go ahead despite the foot-and-mouth crisis.

However, the GAA director-general, Liam Mulvihill, briefed journalists about the congress agenda on March 13th. The GAA's financial plight, on the evidence of GAA figures themselves, is also less serious than Mr Ahern would have the Dail believe.

For now, the PDs are happy not to put the boot into Mr Ahern, believing they have a deal that the money will be paid out only with strings attached. The evidence for this is patchy, to say the least. Despite opportunities last week, the Taoiseach studiously avoided putting conditions. He emphasised again and again that Croke Park could not be used by other sporting codes.

"Senior officials of the GAA have made it absolutely clear to the Government that the ground will not be able to host those matches," he told Ruairi Quinn. Bizarrely, he proposes that other GAA pitches around the country could be opened. "I can't imagine what the Cork County Board will say to that bloody idea when it is put to them," said one source.

Three weeks from now the Cabinet will have to decide on its next action. This week a compromise formula was in gestation. With luck, and closed lips, it will get rid of the problem during the lifetime of this Government.

Under the idea, the GAA will in July get the first £15 million that was included in the package to help prepare Croke Park for the Special Olympics in 2003. No conditions will be attached.

The next £15 million will not fall due until July 2002. By then, a general election will have taken place. So will another GAA congress. More importantly, the contracts for the National Stadium will have been signed.

Such a solution would require the GAA not to queer the Taoiseach's pitch. Given his generosity in the past and present, and hopefully the future, they can, perhaps, be relied upon.

Last month a former GAA president, Peter Quinn, who believes they could pay off Croke Park's debt in 15 years without more State help, accepted that Mr Ahern took a lot of stick when he gave the £20 million that kick-started its rebirth.

"I don't think the GAA should be in the business of embarrassing the Government. We'd have more to lose from that than they would," he said then. The same holds just as true today.

Clearly, the National Stadium, if built, will be the crowning achievement of Mr Ahern's time in power. So far, the stadium's project team admit it will cost £550 million just to build it. Millions more will be needed to transfer existing operations out to Abbotstown, Government figures acknowledge.

However, one man's madness is another's vision. For now, Mr Ahern is the political equivalent of the Iowa farmer played by Kevin Costner in the 1988 film, Field of Dreams, who built a baseball pitch in his cornfield.

"If you build it, they will come," he was told by a ghost who came to him in his dreams. The farmer did. They did. Bertie Ahern is betting that in time Abbotstown will be his Field of Dreams.