IN THE august surroundings of Newman House on St Stephen's Green one November afternoon in 1994, Meath's Trevor Giles was being formally presented with the first football scholarship awarded by the UCD Gaelic Football club. The scheme has since blossomed and now encompasses several such awards.
UCD were to go on and win their first Sigerson Cup in a decade in 1996, the year that Giles became Footballer of the Year. That day in Newman House, he received the inaugural scholarship from the GAA president.
The presentation was a perfect example of how Jack Boothman approached such events during his presidency, which ends this weekend at the GAA annual congress. He threw in a couple of anecdotes from his own days as a veterinary student and made some play of "what he saw as this humorous conjunction of Meath and third level education.
Most people this being largely a Dublin audience hooted with laughter. One eminent former player did however, comment that, having heard Boothman in action on a couple of occasions, his style was fine as long as people were laughing. "But," he added, "if they stop laughing, somebody's going to hit him.
The tendency to depart from script and perpetrate solipsisms by either saying something outrageous or making an ill considered comment off the cuff ran like a theme through Boothman's presidency.
"Maybe it was a friendly media," according to Monaghan Central Council delegate Sean McCague, "but there were outrageous comments that only he could get away with. Pre election, Jack got away with it and may have been lulled into a false sense of security."
On one hand the warmth and lack of affectation that characterised his personality was a strength in his many dealings with ordinary members up and down the country; on the other, the indulgence of his self image as a plain speaking man created incidents that embarrassed the GAA and its highest office.
Within hours of his election in April 1993, Boothman had jocosely answered an inquiry about whether the GAA would accept strings attached government funding for Croke Park by saying: "I'd tell them to f*** off."
His tenure of office has coincided with an eventful time for the association. The continuation of the Croke Park redevelopment project has seen phase one completed and officially opened.
Sponsorship has become an accepted part of the All Ireland series and live broadcasting of championship matches has travelled from hostile uncertainty to whole hearted acceptance as the GAA basks in the reflected glory of two exceptional hurling championships which were enjoyed by a wide and largely new audience.
As the man who appointed the hurling development committee (HDC), he shares in the kudos for the good work done by that body. Although its genesis is usually traced to the dire warning, at the 1994 Congress, from Kilkenny's Nicky Brennan that hurling was on its last legs, Boothman points out that he had decided to appoint the HDC even before that Congress, at which he took up office. He said he had already approached certain members to establish their availability.
His style as chairman is to seek consensus and although this approach, combining commonsense and jocularity, helped dispose of much business, the desire to avoid confrontation at all costs had its limitations. "Jack is an affable man, not confrontational," says one GAA observer. "If there are nettles to be grasped, that's not in his nature."
This unease with making hard decisions was apparent on a couple of important occasions. Last year's congress in London debated the hurling reforms package that had been proposed by Boothman's own hurling development committee. Although eventually carried by a sizeable majority, consideration of the reforms at Central Council over the preceding months had been marked by intense and occasionally bitter argument.
The Central Council meeting on the Friday night was to have heard Boothman's ruling on the crucial issue of whether the proposed reforms needed a simple or a two thirds majority when voted on the following day.
After hearing further heated argument on the subject, he drew back from making the decision and told the meeting that he would "sleep on it". In the event, hands were being raised - and the result if not its scale already obvious - at the end of the following afternoon's debate before the president ventured a ruling.
In 1995, there was the more complicated issue of Rule 21, the ban on security forces in the north joining the GAA. This in general is an issue of infinitely more interest to the general public than to the association's rank and file but in the period of the IRA ceasefire it came more sharply into focus.
By the time the 1995 Congress took place, cracks in the peace process were already evident and a motion to repeal the rule was advanced in the knowledge that it would be the last chance in a while to raise the subject.
Boothman either conceived of or colluded in an evasion which removed the motion from the clar and undertook to convene a special congress on the issue "should circumstances in the six counties call for such action".
There is little doubt where Boothman's instincts lie on the matter. He spoke of being against bans and made frequent reference to not being found wanting in the event of a settlement in the north albeit that this seemed to preclude the GAA making a contribution to the peace process rather than just responding to its successful conclusion.
BOOTHMAN had a genuine interest in and love of the north and has been a frequent visitor over the years. He received strong support there during his election four years ago and was conscious of not, as he would see it, letting his supporters down.
Notwithstanding this, his statements on the northern situation often went further than the established conventions of GAA presidents.
Even if the content appears unremarkable by normal standards, his undertaking that "the concept of exclusionary rules will have no relevance to us in the event of a settlement was notable in that it was delivered to an Ulster GAA audience on the opening of the Arthurs Stand in Clones.
If his heart was in the right place in relation to Rule 21, unfortunately his nerve wasn't. Unlike one of his predecessors, Paddy Buggy, who expressed himself personally in favour of abolition during the 1984 congress in Belfast, Boothman chose not to make a personal stand beyond sweeping the matter under the carpet.
He was active in relation to northern affairs, and led a GAA delegation to a meeting with Northern Ireland minister - Michael Ancram at Hillsborough two years ago.
In February last year, his condemnation of the IRA's dishonouring of its ceasefire at Canary Wharf was severe: "Wherever the blame may lie for lack of progress (in the peace process) there is no justification for the wanton, callous carnage perpetrated on the city of London over the last two weeks."
The one area of activity where Boothman's presidency was flawless was keeping in touch with the ordinary members. He calculates that he travelled 152,000 miles over the three years and turned up indefatigably all around the country.
One club member in Cork remembers Boothman arriving for a club celebration and staying on into the night, long beyond what even the most unreasonable host could have demanded. His visits to clubs and schools were remarkable for someone who also continued to work as a veterinary inspector.
He was fortunate that his wife Nuala, happily, now recovering from illness, made the time - to a greater extent than any previous presidential spouse - to accompany him on his travels.
His style was a relief after the embattled severities of Peter Quinn's presidency but the slicker PR capabilities of his successor Joe McDonagh will equally be welcome after the sometimes shambolic situations that arose from Boothman's spontaneous pronouncements and errors of tone.
After the 1995 All Ireland football final referee Paddy Russell was subject to a lot of abuse. At the Monday lunch, during which Russell's wife was visibly upset by the lingering controversy, Boothman's speech, rather than standing by the referee, included a rather lukewarm passage about everyone having an off day now and then.
His comments after last year's final replay fracas oscillated wildly between cod sociology the day after the "latent violence" in Irish society and thunderous references in a Sligo school some days later to "thuggery and savagery".
Relations with the media were largely untroubled without ever becoming cordial. He was always courteous, helpful and, remarkably for someone who travelled so much, easily accessible. "I reserve the right," he said on taking office, "to chastise individuals if I consider they have overstepped the bounds of good taste and professional ethics. It must be remembered that the leaders of our association are there in a voluntary capacity appointed to carry out a GAA agenda."
There was a residual impression that he didn't have a high opinion of journalists and he was an enthusiastic supporter of supplanting the old All Stars scheme with one in which players, rather than reporters - "who normally can't pick their noses" - would make the selection.
As someone who had the name of being a players' man, he acted in accordance with that reputation by establishing the Players' Advisory Group which has had little impact because, according to one theory, players have failed to use it to air their grievances.
Anyone who confuses Boothman's fondness for players with a permissive attitude towards amateurism plainly hasn't been following his public pronouncements on the matter. As in many other respects, he is conservative on the subject and has never made any secret of the fact.
"Our attitude is that the bulk of money from endorsements should go to fund the organisation in each county," he said in an interview within months of becoming president. Ironically only this week, the committee on amateurism appointed by him has recommended that players be allowed profit from endorsements.
By his own modest ambitions of promoting the games among youngsters and presiding over the completion of the New Stand, Boothman has not disappointed. But given the opportunities he had, it's fair to say that if he could have done worse, he also certainly could have done better.
