Many of AFR's readers will be too young to have experienced the original Catholic concept of Confession, which is almost unknown in the Ireland of today: the idea of young children, barely over the age of seven, huddled in a darkened confession box every week and whispering their little peccadilloes to an aging, male celibate who, at the time - most likely - was wondering if the housekeeper was cooking sausages again for supper...

Often, innocent children who could think of no wrong had to invent 'sins' for themselves to confess - 'cursing and swearing', 'missing Mass', 'disobedience' or even 'impure thoughts or actions'. The type of infraction confessed is poignantly captured in that great Wexford ballad of the'98 Rising, 'The Croppy Boy': 'I cursed three times since last Easter Day... at Mass time hours I went to play... I passed the churchyard one day in haste and forgot to pray for my mother's rest...'

Although Confession, and the times that are in it, have changed radically, there is still the odd (and we mean 'odd') cleric around the place who believes that a jeremiad from the pulpit or a swing of a crosier is enough to bring people to their knees as in the days of old. One such reverend gentleman may well be Father Gerard Moloney, editor of (the in-aptly named) 'Reality' magazine. Father Moloney recently wrote: 'Given the level of alcohol consumption in our society and the growing problem of underage drinking, it is a scandal that any sporting organisation would accept sponsorship from an alcohol company'. He called on the GAA to look again at a sponsorship arrangement that was 'both unwise and irresponsible'.

Now, Father Maloney is, of course, a member of the Redemptorist Order. Again, older readers will recall that wherever drink was to be found, the Redemptorists were never too far behind! Limerick City readers of the Chronicles of An Fear Rua will be familiar with the Redemptorists, where they have a large church and where they organised the young boys and men of the city for many years into a body known as The Arch Confraternity. One member of the Limerick congregation, a certain Father Creagh, is blamed by some for inciting a pogrom against the city's tiny Jewish community through his vituperative Lenten sermons in 1904. Elsewhere, in places like Connemara and Mayo, in the Twenties and Thirties, the Redemptorist fathers Gorey and Conneely, were active in rooting out poítín making and further afield they railed against 'mixed bathing by strangers', all night dancing and Jazz! No doubt about it, if they were on the go today they'd have their reverend hands full with some of the class of goings on, even here in a quiet place like Gowlnacalley.

In the past, two respected Mayo men, Father León Ó Morcháin and former GAA President, Dr Mick Loftus, have also campaigned against the involvement of 'Dis Great Assosheeayshun Of Ours' with alcoholic drink. The broad cultural links between the GAA and the Catholic church are almost totally a thing of the past, however. Some of AFR's younger readers will be surprised to know there was once a time when all major GAA matches were started by an elderly Catholic cleric throwing in the ball among the players and then scurrying for the sideline before he got a 'shkelp' of a hurley or an 'accidental' kick in the backside. It's not so long since major games in Croke Park were prefaced (if you'll excuse the inadvertent pun) by the communal singing of the hymn 'Faith of Our Fathers'. The great Archbishop Croke of Cashel, while he was not physically present in the 'shnug' of Hayes's Hotel when 'D'Assosheeayshun' was founded on that fateful day in 1884, was undoubtedly a prime mover in its foundation. And GAA trophies like the Dr McKenna Cup in Ulster (usually played at least a year in arrears!) or for Munster schools, the Dr Harty Cup and the Dean Ryan Cup, are testament (oops!) to the enduring influence of Catholic clerics on the sideboards of the GAA.

In the Ireland of the new millennium, however, apart from the occasional outburst such as Father Moloney's, the voice of the Catholic church is muted and querulous. Too many scandals about clerical paedophilia and the abuse of children in clerical care in orphanages have seen to that. Quite frankly, the church has little credibility left in condemning any kind of behaviour or activity it, because of the beam in its own eye.

In the past, An Fear Rua has criticised Guinness, when that was called for. But, in this instance, he has to say that both the GAA and Guinness have got it right and Father Moloney is wrong. Alcohol in itself is not bad. Taken in moderation and in the right circumstances, it is an aid to a better life and more conviviality among people. All the bright boys in Gowlnacalley-John Redmonds well know that our own beloved parish priest, Canon Edward Guiry PP VG, likes nothing better than to sit down in his parlour late at night with his favourite tipple of Jameson and champagne in one hand and his faithful blackthorn stick 'An Bod Dubh', in the other.

It is the abuse of alcohol that causes problems and even if the GAA abandoned their linkup with Guinness in the morning not a single problem drinker in Ireland would be helped. Even Father Moloney must be familiar with John 2:1-12, where Jesus - in his first miracle - turned water into wine in Cana of Galilee (the Palestinian equivalent of County Cork). Or equally appropriate may be the Saviour's remarks to the Pharisees in Luke 20:25 when he chided them to 'Render therefore unto Caesar the things which be Caesar's and unto God the things which be God's...'

Who knows, maybe some astute fan with an eye to increasing his store of mammon may start to compete with John 'Christian' Hogan (of John 3:7 fame) behind the goals and persuade Guinness to sponsor a placard with one of the above biblical references? Even GPA members might raise a few bob out of wearing T-shirts emblazoned with the quote from Saint Paul's letter to the Romans about how it is better to run the race than to win it? Bank of Ireland or AIB could surely sponsor a placard containing reference to Jesus driving the moneylenders out of the Temple. The possibilities are endless.

Even the good Father Moloney might come up with the one about the devil quoting scripture in his own defence. Or maybe that was Shakespeare and not the Bible? We must check with one of the Gowlnacalley- Redmonds lads the next time in Ma Molloy's famous drinking emporium...