And on it goes, the sporting calendar never letting up, no weekend free from contests...

At this time of year the GAA season is at melting point, a cacophony of thrills and spills as the narrative reaches its climax. It has been another championship season laden with controversy, highs and lows. The more things change the more they stay the same, and that may be the case once again this year as Kilkenny and Kerry/Tyrone are sniffing around the silverware.

Many of us sports fans have a calendar that is based not upon days or weeks but rather relies upon sporting events to guide us through the year. If the days are getting longer and the smell of summer is in the air, then the championship cannot be too far away. When we get to mid August it has to be the start of the money-fest that is the English Premier League. This time of year also sees the rugby season kick back into life with the Magners League.

The depths of winter and those long dark nights are eased by what many see as the best soccer competition in the world, the Champions League. When spring starts to awaken after its winter hibernation, the Six Nations championship will carry us through to April where the national leagues in hurling and football are reaching their final stages.

And every summer we have a major sporting event to look forward to. In even years it rotates between World Cups or European Championships. In odd numbered years we have the Rugby World Cup rotating with the Lions Tour.

This is all without mentioning the Olympics, World Athletics Championships, boxing, horse racing – the list goes on.

Television is the perfect medium for sport, for what sport contains in abundance is drama, intrigue, unpredictability. Satellite television and the advent of Sky brought English soccer to a whole new level in terms of marketability. Previously a game that had been the lot of the working class man, who stood on crumbling terraces at three o’clock on a Saturday, was now being played in refurbished all-seater stadia, beamed to millions around the word on a regular basis.

Sport was quick to cotton on to the potential of television. Even the GAA, who came quite late to the idea of utilising the media to its full potential, now has a series of TV contracts that ensure their games are shown on a weekly basis for most of the year.

The role that sport plays in our world today cannot be underestimated. In today’s world there are very few outlets other than sport than can command the attention of whole nations at a single moment in time. There is the adage that international sport is warfare without the guns, giving nations the chance to restore prestige, reigniting battles with old foes.

When England played Argentina in the 1986 World Cup, the residue of the Falklands War still filled the air. By the end of the ninety minutes, Diego Maradona’s infamous Hand of God goal did little to improve relations between the nations.

Whenever the Germans and English clash on the soccer pitch, the residue of two World Wars adds an extra frisson to the contests. The English supporters are notorious for the chant “Two World Wars and One World Cup” whenever they face the men from Deutschland.

Our own games have acted as a perfect repository for inter-county rivalries to be played out, with local disputes settled (or started) on the field of play. To those souls who have little or no interest in sport, they see the hierarchical position that it holds in our lives today as bordering on the insane.

They fail to see how so many can be enthralled by contests that involve little more than men chasing, pucking or throwing a ball around a field. They are intrigued, nay astonished when they witness the exalted company that golfers hold in the sporting world – in the non-believers’ eyes, this game of chipping and putting a little white ball in a similarly sized hole, taking up to four hours in some cases, borders on the biggest waste of time ever.

Yet it is clear to those of us with a passion for sport that the subject fits in perfectly with our lives. The heart of human life is achievement and endeavour. Sport offers a controlled environment in which we can push ourselves, reaching new boundaries. Records are made and broken, the limits of human endurance are stretched, and we become the best we can.

As a child I was always astonished when I met people who had no interest in sport. What, I wondered to myself, could they possibly use to fill a day devoid of sport? As I grew older I developed an understanding of the other disciplines in life, such as the arts, or history, or music. Yet I am still intrigued by those who have scant interest in sport.

How can they fail to be moved by the excitement of a hurling match that is in the melting pot with just minutes to go, or fail to appreciate the intrigue of a golf contest that has gone down to the last hole and has become a test of mental fortitude?

In sport the true character of the person is exhibited, there is no hiding place. In the boxing ring, the man with the biggest heart will be king - it is a contest of honesty. Laid bare before us we can witness the true essence of a man shining through.

All the indications are that sport will continue to hold its exalted place in our world. Television deals are still vast; newspapers continue to dedicate a large portion of their coverage to what some will see as a trivial pursuit.

Here in Ireland, we have always been a country enamoured by sort, and have at times witnessed the intertwining of sport with politics. Our national games were born of a desire to sustain our Irishness against a colonising power. When the War of Independence had concluded, and when the dust had settled, we were left with sport as one of the main arenas through which we expressed our independence. When we first entered an Olympic Games as an independent country, we made a statement that we were a nation of the world.

When we were the first foreign side to beat the English soccer team on English soil, the nation was given a massive fillip, this historic result indicating that we had the ability to achieve great things as an independent people.

In the North, sport for many years aced as a badge of distinction. In soccer the team of Northern Ireland was one that was seen as a predominantly Protestant one, with the flying of the Union flag and the playing of God Save the Queen alienating many Catholics. Rugby was an upper class Unionist game, while GAA was the bastion of Catholics, irking Loyalists and Unionists with its flying of the Tricolour and playing of Amhrán na bhFiann.

Sport it tied up with life itself. It acts as a perfect metaphor for life’s struggles, encompassing failure and triumph. When your county comes back from a 10 point deficit to live another day, or your team wins with a last minute goal, you know that in life anything is possible.

Imagine a world without sport and you are left with a massive void. Where would all that passion, fervour and excitement go?

It’s not worth thinking about…


These guys would'nt argue the point...