Hand on Harte, it’s easy to understand Mickey’s attitude
JUST because he does the whole pious thing far better than any other team boss in football does not mean that Mickey Harte needs to stand up, and stand out, by calling a halt to his own team’s mischievous ways. Though it would, of course, be a courageous act.
Harte is also a mite unlucky. For many years we have all looked to him, and half-hoped for him to call out some of his own boys but, genuinely, how can he do that?
If he had faced down Seán Cavanagh two years ago for blatantly depriving Conor McManus of a goal-scoring chance which probably would have propelled Monaghan into the All-Ireland semi-final, how would Tyrone’s greatest player of the last decade have responded? What would have been the reaction of Cavanagh’s team-mates?
Same last Saturday. If Mickey Harte went public and made it known that he was personally going to take disciplinary action against Tiernán McCann for his trickery — and for the embarrassment he brought to his own team-mates, as well as the people of Tyrone — who would have thanked him?
Not the people of Tyrone, certainly not. And neither would any other football or hurling manager in the whole country have come out and publicly hailed Harte’s astonishing decision to lead the way in wiping out sickening degrees of trickery from our game.
Nah, the whole sorry lot would have kept their heads low in case any one of them was expected to follow Mickey’s example — and finger one of their own any day soon.
McCann’s performance in throwing himself to the ground after Darren Hughes from Monaghan playfully ruffled his hair was indeed worthy of the proposed eight-week ban handed down this week.
It was also worthy of a kick up the backside from his own team manager. But team managers in both of our great games, in both hurling and football, have associated themselves with footballers and hurlers bullying and diving, and being guilty of all sorts of dishonourable behaviour for as long as any of us can remember.
So why should Mickey Harte be the first to turn on his own?
ALITTLE over a week ago, 18 of the 20 top division managers traipsed into the Premier League’s headquarters i n London’s Gloucester Place, the whole lot of them looking seriously dapper and the best for wear after their summer holidays and the pre-season shenanigans in more exotic football destinations. Once a year, they all get together.
Mauricio Pochettino and Jose Mourinho, the Spurs and Chelsea team bosses, were the only two unable to make the annual get-together. It’s a c onvivi a l , nearly- a l ways- g oodhumoured meeting — with an added dash of relaxation in the absence of Mourinho.
Once locked in and seated, the aim of the gathering is to get the men who have the greatest say in how England’s native game is played, to agree on how it might become the ‘beautiful game’ once more.
Not surprisingly, it fails by about three-quarters of a mile in hitting this target every single year.
It’s a complete waste of time because the men in the room have their own selfish priorities, and all of them have dirty hands.
None of them own up to the cheating ways of t heir highly- pampered footballers, diving in the penalty area, f eigning i njury, and acting l i ke complete sissies whenever it suits them or — much more sinister — pleases their team managers on a given day.
If grown men in one of the richest games in the world cannot sit down and get anywhere in padding English football with greater decency, then what chance have we got here?
If Brian Cody, Éamon O’Shea and Anthony Cunningham and their buddies in bainisteoirí bibs spent a few hours eyeballing one another all alone?
Or i f Jim Gavin and Éamonn Fitzmaurice and Mickey Harte decided to give a whole day to an even bigger gang talking through the rights and wrongs of their modern game?
I would not hold out too much hope of any ground being gained in ridding us of either the growing treachery or tomfoolery in hurling and football.
Managers are managers, and I cannot think of one of them who would bite his own arm off, and discipline one of his own lads, for the greater good of our national games.
While the power to change is left in the hands of these men, all of whom face as much pressure as Messrs Wenger and Pellegrini and Van Gaal every single week of the year, not enough of our footballers or hurlers will ever face charges for crimes against their games.
The only people who can act, and have absolutely nothing to lose in doing so, are the highly-paid gentlemen who administer our games.
It is their job to serve the people who pay their wages and, for once, they carried out their duties impeccably this week. It’s their grave responsibility to see to it that our greatest players retain a high degree of honour, and a basic l evel of respect f or one another.
These administrators, and not the likes of Mickey Harte, simply have to make certain that respect for the county jersey is saved from the spittoon.