Emmet Moloney writes for the 'The Irish Farmers Journal' and is a former sports columnist with 'The Kerryman'.

Everyone involved with the GAA is writing these days. And gone is the time when you could write a book and say nothing in it. Emmet Moloney longs for the old days...

Today you have to tell the truth when you’re putting a book out, or your version of it anyway. You have to say what actually happened. I long for the old days. GAA books are a recent enough phenomenon. Most struggle to make any real money. Yet GAA “personalities” still put pen to paper for a chunk of money up front and then a small cut of every book sold after that.

While we can’t say exactly how much is on the table in each case, between €10,000 and €20,000 up front is the going rate. That’s probably quite tempting in this day and age. And remember, there’s someone else to do the actual writing bit. Not bad money if you can get it.

But then comes the publicity around the launch of the book. Some juicy details have to be released and the game begins. Mick O’Dwyer’s revelation was that he had been audited by the revenue services and that he thought someone ratted him out. Luckily for Micko, he withstood the audit. This was a decent enough story; no names were mentioned, Micko was clean and no-one was offended.

That’s only a few years ago but, my, how times have changed. Mickey Harte’s book has just been released and despite his attempts to row back, he certainly questions Seán Cavanagh’s bottle for not starting against Cork in this year’s All-Ireland semi-final. Cavanagh came to Harte that morning and told him he was unwell. Reading between Harte’s lines, it is clear that the manager thought his start player could play and had other “issues” around him for the year, with this match-day illness being the latest of them.

Harte has been an impressive figure in GAA since he announced his arrival in the national stage by winning Tyrone’s first All-Ireland in 2003. His understated way of doing things and restrained manner on the sideline suggested a quiet, determined but reserved man. This Seán Cavanagh incident undermines this. For Harte, who says he intends to stay on as manager, his relationship with his star player must surely be hurt. Without Cavanagh, Tyrone are going nowhere, yet the player’s reputation has been tarnished by allegations from his own manager. Was there any need for it?

Then we have Tadhg Kennelly. The Listowel man won many new friends and hearts this year through his exploits on the field. There was certainly an emotional aspect to him following in the steps of his father Tim and brother Noel in winning an All-Ireland medal, but he, too, has undone a lot of the good work. Kennelly’s crime is admitting just how pre-meditated his challenge on Nicholas Murphy was. He decided the night before that he was going “to do” someone early to send a message. That’s the usual macho talk we have nowadays but Tadhg is out of line twice here. Firstly, he reveals that he talked to Paul Galvin about his plan the night before and gave Paul a wink just before the throw in. Why did he have to drag Galvin into it? As if Galvin’s reputation isn’t poor enough? Secondly, he admitted the intended “dirt” of his challenge. That’s not on either.
Kennelly undid plenty of the goodwill that existed outside of Kerry for him. He has ensured that referees will pick on him for the rest of his playing career in Ireland, if he has one. All to sell a few more books?

The GAA should take action here because a precedent has been set. Whatever about getting away with something on the field, you shouldn’t be allowed to get away with revelling in it afterwards. That’s just being a little too smart.

Then there is Donal Óg Cusack. This is a little different. I had heard a whisper on the grapevine a few weeks back that Donal Óg’s book would cause a stir. We assumed this stir would be the inside story of the strikes, with the odd revelation thrown in about Frank Murphy. Turns out Donal Óg had something else in mind.

His decision to reveal his sexuality was a bombshell to the rest of the country. As the first openly gay GAA star, Donal Óg is setting himself up for dog’s abuse from the usual headbangers who gather behind the goals at big matches. But this will be nothing new for the Cork man, who has been enduring this homophobic nonsense for years now. His decision to come out is undeniably brave and is a landmark moment in GAA history. But ultimately, Donal Óg’s book is secondary now. A uniquely Irish barrier has been broken.

These confessional, tell-all books are all the rage it seems. Oisín McConville’s book told us about his gambling problems; Jack O’Connor came clean on the chips on his shoulders; Ger Loughnane told us how great he was! Fair play to Brian Cody. All he told us was they work hard and take hurling seriously in Kilkenny. No state secrets there.

Once upon a time, sports books never broke the omerta that surrounded a dressing room, never let any reader get remotely close to the truth about what goes on. No-one was ever offended and the usual clichés were trotted out. The harmless stories name names, but the phrase “he knows who he is” is invoked when muddy waters are being entered. Páidí Ó Sé managed to get through an entire book in this manner, finding something good to say about almost everyone. A most unusual feat for Páidí!

It’s all a bit tawdry now. The sanctity of the dressing room is compromised. Those who are bringing out books are still playing, still involved and have to face their team-mates and opponents after writing about them. Hostages to fortune are being created left, right and centre.

On the plus side, it gives us all something to talk about in those rare GAA off-seasons when there isn’t a strike on in Cork!

To catch Emmet's latest column, get 'The Irish Farmers' Journal' every Thursday...