Hoop dreamer grounded in reality

It's Monday night and Bruce Springsteen's playing Glasnevin in Dublin

It's Monday night and Bruce Springsteen's playing Glasnevin in Dublin. It's no stadium gig either; just the gym in the local school. For a fanclub, he has the St Vincent's men's basketball team.

This weekend, the northside club face Waterford in the second men's semi-final of the Sprite Cup in the Arena in Tallaght. It's that annual date when the Irish hoops game gets to go to the prom, when the RTE cameras beam out live images for three nights running and the athletes showcase their game.

On this evening, it's icy on the Vincent's hardwood floor but team coach Joey Boylan has got The Boss singing full volume about lost dreams, just to help his team get used to playing in the noise.

"Only Joey pays attention to detail like that," smiles Karl Donnelly.

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The Irish guard is perhaps the most celebrated of the home talent reared in Glasnevin over the past 15 years. In a way, the St Vincent's club story mirrors that of Irish basketball in general. It's a community thing, where families hold the club together through generations, a club where every season is a struggle for money, players, time, effort. Like every club in the country, it survives by saying: "screw adversity, let's play."

Donnelly plays for Vincent's with his younger brother David. He has a kid brother Emmet in the United States, also playing hoops, and the youngest, James, is with Vincent's school team. Their father, Shay, was a well-known international and Dublin footballer.

Karl Donnelly could have played any sport. He used to run with Home Farm when he was a youngster and he took up Gaelic football again two years ago after a 10-year sabbatical and will line out with Na Fianna in the All-Ireland club semi-final next month.

"The first day I clapped eyes on Karl was in primary school in St Declan's," says Boylan, his coach. "Almost immediately he stood apart at basketball. The next time I saw him was when he turned out for first-year training in St Vincent's. The folks had changed house so Karl changed school, which was a stroke of luck for Vincent's. He always had a fine shot, which he worked hard to develop and I've always enjoyed dealing with him."

When you watch Donnelly shoot jump shots, it's hard to see him as anything but a ball player. Coaches know a natural shooter from their very poise and Donnelly has it in abundance - hands poised, elbow straight, stepping into the pass and arcing the shot at the apex of the jump. It's one swift, flowing movement. Mostly he hits nothing but net. But then, this is the floor on which he learned his trade.

"Yeah, we played all our school games here. Our big rivals growing up were Colaiste Eanna from the southside. They'd had more coaching than us as kids so we weren't so competitive at under-age level. But by the time we got to senior year, we beat them in the All-Ireland.

"That was 1989, the year I left. But to be honest, there wasn't much made of it. There was always a pressure to play Gaelic football and hurling. Like, the school won the All-Ireland for two years running after that and there was hardly a mention made of it," he says. Sometimes, he wonders about perceptions of basketball in this country. For sure, you don't see the blinding jazz they dish up at the LA Forum, but it's far from bad. Within the Vincent's club alone are guys like the rangy, explosive Stephen McGurk and youngsters such as John Davoren, a slick shooting leaper. Occasionally, they draw the big crowds but last Sunday, against Killarney, they blazed away in front of scarcely 300 souls.

"You ask yourself what else people could be doing on a Sunday afternoon? Perhaps it's a problem with the way we market the league. But it has obvious appeal - you're not out freezing your balls off in the rain at a football game, it's ideal for family and kids and, as a product, a sport, it does give good entertainment. And with the population that's in Glasnevin, I suppose you could expect a bit more. There are people who give so much to running and organising the club that sometimes it seems a shame that their efforts aren't rewarded more."

It's an unexpected sort of admission to hear from someone like Donnelly, who represents the starry side of Irish basketball. The sport has been good to him - he spent a year at high school in Connecticut, a season playing US colleges ball, and has been a constant on international teams since his late teens. Even when he was a kid, though, he realised the possibilities and recognition afforded to an Irish basketball player were finite. But he never once entertained the idea of quitting the sport.

When Donnelly returned to Gaelic, it was on a whim. Just wanted to stay in shape and he knew Piller (Paul) Caffrey, so he gave him a call. Played his way on to the first team.

"Maybe a few were surprised I could play and that I stuck it out. But I really enjoyed it and had a few good games. Basketball benefited me in ways. For instance, I would have been recognised as a good handler of a ball and sometimes I'd flick these handpasses and lads would say that was from basketball or whatever. But I mean, to be honest, I just feel ridiculously lucky to have been playing football for two years and to have been in two Dublin championship finals."

His eye-catching style in the 1998 championship led to a call from Tom Carr and although he joined the Dublin panel that season, he has not turned out this year.

"I ended up losing a basketball season instead of gaining a football career. This year, I decided I'd just play till Na Fianna were knocked out. Course, I didn't realise Na Fianna would be still here in February."

He does contemplate what might have happened if he had juggled football and basketball for longer.

"The odd time I do wonder but it doesn't cost me sleep and I don't go on about it, saying, `aw, I could have played, or whatever'. I mean, if I really thought I could line out for Dublin on Leinster final day and if I was a few years younger, then maybe. But no regrets."

Nor should there be. This Saturday night, for once, he might get just the nationwide plaudits, the acclaim. But that's never been the spur; even if the gym was empty and the roof leaking. It's simply about the game, always has been.