It was a tale of two social media posts. Two men. Two different sports. Both faced similar dilemmas: whether to play important games or sit them out to support their female partners through their fertility journey.
French lock Thibaud Flament intends to skip the Six Nations opener against Ireland in order to undergo fertility treatment with his wife. Meanwhile, Dingle GAA goalkeeper Gavin Curran missed the birth of his first child to line out at the All-Ireland club football final earlier this month.
Flament explained it wasn’t a simple case of fiddling his Google calendar around to rearrange treatment. “The timing is based on the menstrual cycle of women, with a whole protocol around it,” he told French newspaper L’Équipe. “You can’t control the date.”
Curran’s problem was geography. His heavily pregnant partner was in Australia with no airline likely to let her fly. He was in Ireland. Even if he had left the second she was in labour and managed to hop aboard the next flight, he still would have probably got there too late. The quickest route still takes roughly 24 hours. A full day.
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He made the trip back to be with her between games leading up to the final. But his son was born on the morning of the big match that Curran would go on to win with Dingle. The keeper cut celebrations short, flying out the next day at 6am to meet his baby boy for the first time while his team-mates took the cup out for a few pints at the Boar’s Head.
News outlets posted about the two men’s decisions in the same week. But the reactions were a little different and, at times, divided by gender.
In the comment sections, both women and men heaped praise on Flament for missing the game to start a family. There was a healthy round of “fair plays” – one of the highest accolades you can receive in Ireland. But it was mainly men who criticised his decision, and thought their disapproval of a professional sportsman was consequential enough to post on the internet.
I am not here to make judgment, having never played an All-Ireland club final nor given birth to a baby
“Not like he’s the one doing it,” said one man who wasn’t paying attention in biology. “They play for 80 minutes,” complained another, because what he might have lacked in knowledge of reproductive procedures, he made up for in confidence. “They also have 10 minutes at the break.”
As one female poster observed: “All the women in the comments [are] like yes, this guy, green flag. Then men in the comments – pathetic, wouldn’t let him in my team.”
Curran garnered mostly simultaneous congratulations on both the birth of his son and winning the All-Ireland. There were some sharp remarks at his choice, but he was defended in the comments by both genders.
People seemed to be more upset with a man missing a game to have a family than they were with a man who missed the first birth of his child for a match.
I am not here to make judgment, having never played an All-Ireland club final nor given birth to a baby. I do not know what Curran or his (gorgeous) partner Claire arranged. “She must be very understanding,” my boyfriend speculated. “It must be nice to have a partner who is understanding.”
I am also very understanding. I understand how much heroin I would hide in my boyfriend’s bag that would get him arrested for drug trafficking, and not just for personal use, before tipping off the drug squad at the airport if he left me to give birth on my own in order to jet off to Ireland for a match. Even if it was the All-Ireland final. But clearly, Claire is a much better woman than me – and I’m okay with that.
[ Good chat? Only when you leave Ireland, you realise it isn’t universalOpens in new window ]
The decision was right for them. As Flament’s was for him. But the reactions hint at something else. Some men still do not like it when other men put their families or the women they love first. And that baby-making and birthing falls under the category of women’s business, even if biologically, at some point, in some way, a bloke has to be involved. Sportsmen are not expected to distract themselves with all that. As Roy Keane said in 2015 when asked whether a player would play the day after his child was born: “He didn’t have the baby, did he? Unless he’s breastfeeding, he should be all right.”
Prioritising your wife or partner carries a shameful hint at “being soft”. Cruel school yards caution young boys against being “whipped”. Some learn early and irreversibly to define their masculinity accordingly.
