Rebels are a sporting lot

Late last summer a Mayo football fan sat in the upper tier of the Cusack stand and watched grimly as Cork players sauntered on…

Late last summer a Mayo football fan sat in the upper tier of the Cusack stand and watched grimly as Cork players sauntered on a different plane to that of his stricken contenders.

Inevitably, the ruins of another All-Ireland semi-final, which the same two teams had contested in 1993, were visited upon him. That day, he sat in the Hogan stand amid dozens of scattered green and red flags, abandoned by Mayo people unable or unwilling to watch their team being torn asunder (they would lose by 20 points).

This latest heartbreak was not so epic in scale but the disappointment was just as acute. He turned to the Cork companions with whom he had, perhaps ill-advisedly, met up with before the match. There was no slagging, though, or heady talk about the All-Ireland final. Instead, they were somewhat glumly contemplating the traffic bound for Cork - putting an estimate on the driving time back to the heartland.

This complacency towards a victory of such magnitude was of utter mystery to the Mayo man. But in the Cork dressing-room priorities were somewhat similar. There was a prevailing sense of satisfaction, certainly, and the mood was happy. But it was all governed by a definite sense of urgency, the reason for which became clear after a few minutes.

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This Cork team had a train to catch. Having won an All-Ireland semi-final at 4.50 p.m. they were due at Heuston for 5.55 p.m. Insights and glad reflection they were content to leave to others. This was a young team on a learning curve and you couldn't help but think that most counties, having made it to the promised autumn Sunday, would be pushed to make the Monday evening train. But the Cork lads had cleared the stadium in minutes. Their last echoes fell away almost before the Mayo lads had time to come to terms with the fact that their championship was over . . .

So what is it about Corkies and sport? The Liam McCarthy Cup is back by the Lee and it will be hard wrestled away. UCC are the Munster football champions. Their rugby counterparts defend their European title against Loughborough in the semi-final on Tuesday night. Neptune basketball club are on the verge of another national title.

Are they all good at skiing down there as well? Last Monday we froze and peered through the drizzle as Ronan O'Gara lined up a last minute penalty to give Munster a storied win over Saracens. No surprise that he kicked it truly, grazing the post just for drama. No shock either that he is a product of Presentation College in Cork city.

Afterwards, they raided the archives for comparable days at Thomond and agreed that this had been the best. "An old Limerick supporter said to me afterwards that he had never loved a Cork man so much," laughed O'Gara later. Rugby observers across the country have lauded the young Cork man as the best out-half in Ireland by a distance.

Not that individual excellence is anything new to Cork. Remember Sonia O'Sullivan's birth place when you watch her in Sydney. No mistaking Roy Keane's accent. Nor Denis Irwin's. Irish women's hockey star Sarah Kelleher is a former UCC scholarship student and Mary Logue, the present international captain, is also an alumni. And these from just the present era.

The county has obvious natural advantages in terms of sports development; population is the primary asset and the capital city is possessed of both storied secondary level establishments and the college, which continue to act as nurseries for stars in all disciplines. There is an argument, though, that Corkonian pre-eminence in sport is not merely explainable through numbers (there are 420,000 people on Cork, 127,000 of those reside in the city) and structures, but that it is, at least in part, attributable to the native psyche.

"Well, I think Cork people are imbued with an intensely local sense of identity," says John A Murphy, Emeritus professor at UCC, whose father won an All-Ireland senior football medal with the county in 1911.

"It possibly stems from the city, where there is a lot of urban pride. There have, of course, been allegations of exclusiveness made about Cork, a perception that Cork people are obsessed with their own identity."

In his essay Anatomy and Es- sence, Murphy includes a wonderful passage about a BBC documentary made in Cork, concerning the subtleties of Hiberno-English. They used a translator for sequences filmed in a north Cork brewery. Local people were, writes Murphy, "torn between resentment at the depiction of their standard English as a patois and pride that interpretative help was essential for unravelling the mysteries of their highly distinctive speech." There are few people who cannot have been struck, at least once, by the mesmerising vein of assuredness which forms the backbone of any rich Cork accent. Defeatist tones are alien to the timbre, something which can only help Cork athletes against opposition.

Sport is integral to Cork life. John A Murphy has written that "it would be difficult to exaggerate the importance of sports in general and of GAA games in particular as expressions of Cork pride, even hubris." Des Cullinane has a distinguished record in Cork GAA circles and is now preparing the UCC footballer's for their All-Ireland club semi-final against Crossmaglen.

"There is definitely an element of arrogance about Cork sport all right," he admits. "There is a winning tradition there and you know, that sense, as Christy Ring put it, that `they can mushroom up over night'. It's a mentality which is both a strength and a weakness. They are generally very hard to beat but they can approach games in a cavalier attitude, as though they simply can't be beaten."

While countless performances have borne this out, it would perhaps be unfair to regard it as a general rule. Cork, of course, is shaped by its rural identity as much as the expressions of urbanity and for every easy talker, there is a taciturn equivalent - perhaps best represented by Ring. And there are many examples of Cork sports people who embody the antithesis of vanity and pride; Jimmy Barry Murphy is nothing if not modest and dignified - traits which course through the team he managed to the All-Ireland hurling title last September. Who could dislike Sonia O'Sullivan? Was not Jack Lynch, hurler and politician, perhaps the most fondly remembered Irish person of the last century?

"There is a bit of the `in your face' thing in Cork but I think it all comes down to tradition and a genuine love of sport," reasons former international scrum-half Michael Bradley. "Going to school in Pres and playing rugby there you were aware that the place is steeped in tradition and there was a fierce respect - or disrespect sometimes - for other school teams at local level. There is a winning pattern and all Cork teams go out to win but I think most Cork folk are good sports people when they lose."

But even though this is undeniably true there exists, to many outsiders, an indefinable sense of pre-destiny about Cork teams that is both infuriating and enviable. Back in the 1980s, Neptune basketball club enjoyed a sustained period of dominance, taking the league four years in a row (1985-88). They also enjoyed Cup success in that era and the finals, then in the Neptune stadium, made great television. One year, 18-year-old Stephen McCarthy made his debut at point guard and ended up as MVP. Watching him then it seemed as if the kid had been born for the moment; in front of live television and a frothing local support, he was a natural. To clubs around the country, it was no surprise that such a precocious talent had been reared in Cork. McCarthy is spearheading Neptune's push for the league this season.

"We put an awful lot of work into the youth set up in the early 1980s and that paid off," says Niall O'Riordan of Neptune.

"I wouldn't agree that Cork basketball players are cocky but they do expect to win and have this attitude of anything you can do, we can match. If we get beaten, well, we take it. Don't like it, but we take it." No Cork team, funnily, has won the national cup since it moved to the Arena in Tallaght. "Well, the lads weren't hugely pleased about playing above in the Arena," laughs O'Riordan, "but to be honest, we just weren't strong enough over the past six years to win it."

Talk to any Cork person and they will agree that the county cares deeply about sport. Some feel that the genesis of the success is tied up in the local temperament or personality. Whatever that is.

"Cute is the word often associated with Cork people," smiles Bernard O'Donoghue, an English professor at Oxford and also a Sliabh Luan native who is still prone to fits of anguish about Cork's loss to Louth in the 1957 All-Ireland football final.

"Niall Tobin has the line about the great local dismissal of, `ah, sure he was never in Cork'. It's pride and it translates to sport. Great local rivalry perhaps breeds a competitiveness that helps teams at county level. Cork people have a great respect for sports, though. I remember sitting in a kitchen with Christy Ring in west Cork in the 1970s. It was the one time I met him and I was awe-struck."

There are so many different angles to Cork and sport generally cuts through the great themes - nationalism, rurality, urbanity, humour, pride - at many levels. It has, of course, been observed that the county is a microcosm of Ireland in terms of its history and physically, with the rugged land to the west (football country) and fine grazing swathes to the east.

It is also the contention that Cork is a place quite distinct to the rest of Ireland. That it is, in short, a vexing place. What was it that moved Cork city native Sean O Faolain to bitterly note that: "All Corkmen, you find it out sooner or later, have a hard streak in them. The gentlest are the most cruel. All are cynics. Smilers are the worst?"

Perhaps it is impossible to pinpoint why Cork sports people at local, national and international level consistently thrive. The only certainty is that their exploits will continue to charm, thrill and occasionally madden we on-lookers. The gaelic footballers of Cork are sometimes accused of going against the grain, of under achieving. But try selling that lamentable tale to footballers across Ulster or Connacht and they will point to six All-Irelands and 33 Munster titles. Hardly a famine.

Still, they did lose last year's final, a defeat they took stoically. Cork teams usually do. "That's because all Cork team's believe they'll be right back there again next year. It's because they really believe they can come back stronger," says Des Cullinane.

So perhaps that's the reason that Cork folk will most likely, over the next 12 months, have more to celebrate than most other counties. And perhaps it is why O Faolain, despite his reservations, wrote, "There is steel in Cork. There is flint and the spark of fire. I would not, I repeat, be born out of it."