Headlines can give news a funny twist. On Monday morning, with most of Tyrone still drunk with delight, and those who'd been cracking Tyrone jokes on the run (Q: What do you call a Tyrone man with an All-Ireland medal? A: An Irish dancer), BBC Radio Ulster led its hourly news bulletin with the information that the British Secretary of State had congratulated the Tyrone team. Eh? What sort of news is that? Fifty years ago, the three letters GAA uttered consecutively on BBC radio would have been a heart-attack headline, but not today. So what possible connection has Paul Murphy with the GAA, that his reaction to the Tyrone win should be considered of greater interest than the feelings of Peter Canavan, Mickey Harte or my Auntie Cissie in Aghyaran?
My guess is it's our old friend Cultural Cringe come to call again – last seen when Lord Hutton, late of this parish and the Diplock Courts system, was called to England to sit in judgement on the BBC vs Downing Street.
There are people on this island who don't believe anything native has value until it gets a stamp of approval from across the water, who believe all taste and quality must emanate from London and who delight at the thought of getting to curtsey to minor royalty. They'll have been so relieved that Paul was pleased.
But for the rest of us, or at least those of us with Tyrone roots: what a wonderful victory!
And what a modulated victory speech from Peter Canavan as he received the cup. Most years, the captain of the winning team, overcome with emotion, roars into the microphone as though amplification had yet to be invented. Canavan in contrast was poised and moderate, covering everything from media attacks to the death of his father to the disappointments of so many Tyrone teams down the years ("This is for you!"). You could almost see Jackie Taggart and Iggy Jones and Paddy Corey hovering above him as he spoke.
One point in the speech struck a jarring note for some people, though. It was when he said that the victory gave the lie to those who claimed the Tyrone team was like the British army – once it crossed the border it lost all its power. He should have omitted that, some said, given that President McAleese was standing directly behind him and it might have put her on the spot. Should she laugh, should she frown, should she pretend not to have heard?
But he might have mentioned more embarrassing things. As a teacher, he might have called on Protestant schools in the north to display some cultural openness and make gaelic games a part of their sporting curriculum. Because right now there isn't a single Protestant school in the north plays competitive gaelic games.
So much for Education for Mutual Understanding.
Or he might have mentioned the excitement when UUP man Michael McGimpsey, as minister for sport, attended a game in Casement Park. To listen to some unionists, you'd think he'd done something that required supreme courage and tolerance.It's only a game, Michael. You won't catch a disease or turn green. And you are, or were, the sports minister.
Canavan could have commented on that overblown visit, or wondered where moderate, reaching-out unionist David Trimble was on this great day. After all, his constituency includes Armagh.
He might even have mentioned Aughnacloy, the point at which he and the Tyrone team would cross into the north next day. He might have recalled another Sunday afternoon and another GAA match, fifteen years ago. On that day, twenty-four-year-old Aidan McAnespie left a GAA match to visit a tobacconist's and was killed by a single bullet fired from a British army watch-tower 300 yards away. Prior to his death McAnespie had been repeatedly harassed and his life threatened by members of the security forces. After his death the RUC said that he had been killed as the result of an accidental discharge from a machine gun.
Canavan could have referred to any or all of those things, but he chose not to. That's because, besides being a superb athlete, he has the capacity to overcome disappointment and tragedy and move on, strong and balanced and open.
Maybe unionist educators and politicians could learn from him. Take a deep breath lads and help yourselves to your share in this unique sporting treasure-house. You owe it to your people.
