Committee not up to something shady

Keith Duggan Sideline CutWhat is it with the GAA and rules? After weeks of near chaos on the fields of play, the intrigue has returned to the dusty corridors of power and the machinations of the Motions Committee, roundly lambasting association delegates for not doing their "homework".

It has been a while since most of us were confronted with the accusation of not having completed our homework. And in fairness, the thought of facing a table full of men as formidable as Jack Boothman and Seán McCague without the sums all correct is fairly chilling. We cannot be sure if delegates foolhardy enough to submit tardy or soiled motions are liable for six of the best, but, given the tone that the Motions Committee adopts, it would seem possible.

Six brisk strokes of the GAA rule book, administered by former presidents, would help to clear up the rampant disregard with which the masses seem to be hurling scraps of paper at the committee.

In the present light, the Motions Committee comes across as a mysterious and, ultimately, a rather frightening branch of the GAA tree. To begin with, it is trembling with powerful men, among the finest the association has produced, many of whom somehow found time not only to become fluent in the rules of the association but to hold down jobs, rear families and play a bit of sport as well.

There are few publications on earth more daunting than the GAA rule book. The standard CLG rule book makes Das Capital read like a throwaway Mills and Boon romance. It is a fair bet that over the decades many good men and women opened their rule book for a browse and got lost, eternally, somewhere between Rule 5 and Rule 28, Clause 15, sub-section xiii.

You can tell these haunted folk by the way their brows are frozen in contorted worry and their mouths given to a kind of half-smile, as if they are stuck on the verge of understanding something truly wondrous and joyful - Rule 42 in most cases.

These were all good, earnest Gaels who became innocently locked into a deathless struggle to master the spider's web of rules and provisions and absolute "nos" that keep the association bound together.

There is a theory the GAA spirits these unfortunates away and keeps them housed deep in the Croke Park dressing-room reserved for the Kilkenny footballers. They are released every Congress to spread the rule-book gospel around the foyer of the Burlington, a bit like the Moonies but with fewer sandals and more pioneer pins.

To others, a select and brilliant group, the rules book is as pleasant and simple as the recitation of one of Shakespeare's sonnets. These are the men of the Motions Committee. They know the thing backwards and happily converse with one another on its more amusing anecdotes.

"Rule 18, Sub-clause 24," one former president might quote with a chuckle over cupán tae.

"Ahh Jaysus, a chairde, but you are a gas man," will come to reply.

It should be noted as this point the Motions Committee has been criticised from far and wide over the past few days. Persistent champions of the Rule 42 submissions, such as the gallant Tommy Kenoy from Roscommon, are on the verge of tears with what they believe to be the intransigence of the Motions Committee. They feel much like we all do when we drive the old motor in through the gates of the NCT centre, muttering under our breaths, "Fail it this time, yez effers", and then taking grim pleasure when they duly do.

There is a groundswell of opinion that the Motions Committee is arcane and obstructive and would rather see the Charles and Camilla wedding night tango feature on the sacred floor of Croke Park than endure an afternoon of any kind of foreign sport.

Perhaps this is unfair. As Boothman reasoned in these pages yesterday, the Motions Committee has to get through more paperwork than the average tribunal. It would seem the Gael is a congenital and helplessly addicted forwarder of motions ranging from the irrelevant to the mad.

Boothman, devastatingly, failed to enlighten us as to the content of these proposals, which suggests an urgent need for a motion that all motions forwarded should be published in the back of a match programme for the craic if nothing else. Boothman was, perhaps understandably, a bit cheesed off that the failure of so many Gaels to simply abide by the rules was being portrayed as inflexibility on their part.

It would be nice to think the Motions Committee goes about its task with a generous spirit and a good dash of humour. For all we know, the committee might be the biggest laugh going outside of Big Gerry daring the Leader to throw him in the clanger. Perhaps when forced to reject a lovingly-constructed county board proposal, drafted on the best CLG paper, the Motions Committee lightens the mood by breaking into a chorus - to the tune of Rock-the-Boat - of, "So We'd Like To Know Where/You Got The Motion."

Of course, there is a dark conspiracy theory afoot - which probably has its origins in the demon drink - that the Motions Committee is, wilfully or not, placing itself as an obstacle to the wishes of the current president, Seán Kelly. Kelly serves on the committee and has made it known he would like, at the very least, to see open debate on Rule 42, which would ultimately allow Roy Keane to stand up for the meek in the tunnels of Croke Park during soccer internationals.

Of course, the president has a vote, but the Motions Committee has been portrayed as a body dominated by the presidents of yesteryear, the spectral group of men who guided the association in the era before it went all modern. There is a theory some of the former presidents aren't all that gone on the fact Kelly has been so open and transparent about the issue of Rule 42.

But then, there is also a theory some of the former presidents felt deeply, deeply uneasy and compromised by the dark shades that an tUachtarán sported on a recent trip to Hong Kong. It is alleged the committee felt the sunglasses, though fetching and allegedly admired by the Taoiseach, made their successor look too suave, too edgy, too Italian.

It is thought they would be very keen on a motion that all future protective eyewear worn by the Gael while on foreign missions would bear the CLG stamp of approval and would on no account be worn indoors, à la Bono or The Blues Brothers.

Of course, this is conjecture. There is probably a section of the rule book that deals with the wearing of shades which only a discreet group is capable of understanding.

All I know is that in the age of noodle bars, DVDs and Ryan Tubridy, the Motions Committee is taking a stand. Against what we cannot be quite sure, but the important thing is they are at least united in their stance against sloppy proposals.