Presidential Election Shows TV Still Key In Internet Age

The modern-day world may be one of interconnectivity, of social media and of instant communication, but the 2011 Presidential election has shown that old-style television is still king.

Our case study today is Sean Gallagher, the man who nearly was.  His performance, finishing second in this election, is remarkable in and of itself.  While not necessarily independent, he lacked a party machine for canvassing etc.  He had no posters (at least not on lamp posts) and still was able to get his name out there, thanks primarily to his involvement in the likes of Dragons Den.  He entered the race as a personality, and people warmed to the familiar face.  For a while, at least.

As much as television gave Gallagher a boost, it also took him down.  Monday’s dramatic television debate saw his debate unravel before the nation.  He panicked, froze and showed the people that he is not Presidential, not according to the people of Ireland who left him in droves.  28% of the electorate changedtheir first preference this week, and of those 58% deserted Sean Gallagher.  That is 16.2% of those who voted –he lost out by 11.1%.

Twitter, in particular, is a fantastic way to experience news events, elections chief among them.  Those who followed #aras11 took part in critical discussion, humorous conversation and shared links to some of the most informative (and sometimes ridiculous) columns.  Voters engaged with candidates and their teams in a way that happens on the ground, but not in such an obvious or easy fashion.

However, while twitter is the internet’s brightest point, the reality is it does not have the mass reach of other media.  As of 5:30 on count day, 3800 people had tweeted using the #aras11 hashtag, taking part in this national conversation.  But on Monday night, 900,000 watched the campaign’s most infamous moment in the Frontline studio.  That’s half the amount of total voters.

There are few bigger advocates of twitter than myself, and this is not intended to take anything away from the medium.  However, despite the modern world in which we live, television has again shown it’s hold and power in Ireland.  More than anything else, it can capture, retain and influence the general public.  Ireland is now multi-cultural, modern and the internet is at the fore of our future, but our people remain entrapped by the old reliable television.  This may be 2011, but the story of this Presidential election is an old-style tale. 

In one foul swoop a dragon was slayed and a President crowned, while we all tuned in.

Dan Wheldon RIP

In May of this year, Dan Wheldon was the beneficiary of one of motorsport's most dramatic finishes.




Today, the 33-year-old father of two died in a crash while competing in Las Vegas.

Motorsport.  You never know what's around the corner.

Welsh Loss Set To Haunt Ireland's Greatest Ever Players

Losing’s a bitch.  Losing out on what is probably your last chance must be ten times worse.

As fans of the Irish rugby team, today we hurt.  This morning was a crushing disappointment that we feel even more because it was unexpected, and because of the euphoric highs that preceded it.  Yet as fans, we will have another day, many more in fact.  The Irish people will cheer for us in World Cups in 2015, 2019, 2023 and so on.  Four years is a long time, but time does pass.

But when that happens, things change.  Players get old, some of them too old.  2015 will probably be a bridge to far for the likes of Paul O’Connell, Rory Best, Donnacha O’Callaghan, David Wallace, Gordon D’Arcy and Brian O’Driscoll who by then could be mere fans like the rest of us.  That list is not exhaustive – there may be more, but it may also be the case that some of those men hang on.  I imagine the manner of today’s defeat, and the way it robbed Ireland’s stars of a swansong on the global stage will perhaps induce second thoughts and a drive to continue.

Some will go however, perhaps not straight away, but they will.  The Ireland team of the 2012 and 2013 Six Nations will look very different to the all-too-familiar squad of recent times.  It’s still too soon for a post-mortem, when we don’t even know who is leaving, but when change is most certainly coming, one thing has to be said – today is the most disappointing day any one of them will have experienced in an Irish jersey.

We have lost Grand Slam deciders, blown chances to beat Southern Hemisphere giants, even lost Quarter Finals before today.  However on virtually all of those occasions Ireland were underdogs, valiant battlers who attempted to stave off defeat.  Today, that was not the case.  We were a team poised to deliver the sport’s finest hour.  Take into account the brilliance of the win over Australia, and the economic circumstances in which this country finds itself, and today’s defeat is even more heartbreaking.  More so than on virtually any other occasion, today we knew that victory was tangible and realistic.  We could taste success, we could dream of a final, and yet it never came.

 Perhaps it was nerves.  Perhaps it was a poor tactical performace.  Perhaps it was plain bad luck.  No matter really, because it was most certainly the most gut-wrenching defeat for an Ireland rugby team in many a year.  Look at Brian O’Driscoll’s face in the post-match press conference.  In a word, it is grey.  He knows it as much as anyone.  After the win over Australia, I wrote that the victory was an opportunity that had to be grasped.  Today was the chance to do that and it was not taken.  I don’t say that as a criticism – no one man could have tried harder – but as a fact.  That’s what hurts most of all.

An opportunity like today might not come for another twenty or thirty years.  Then again, it could come in four, but even then that will too far away for some of the golden generation.  We laud then.  We thank them.  We appreciate their efforts, toast their successes and today, of all days, we share the pain of their defeats. 

Some of these players tasted victory in places that Irishmendo not win.

More of them spoiled the homecoming of World champions and slayed the old enemy all in the one day.

Many of these players made what once seemed unobtainable the norm.  They came to the cusp of success, before falling short and trying once more.

Yet more were humiliated on the biggest stage of all, and still returned.

They showed the best of a 21^st Century Ireland – our maturity, our facilities, our tenacity and the pride we have of this nation – in one of the greatest sporting days of recent years.

They gave us a day the likes of which comes once in every 61 years.

Virtually all of them did the unthinkable just three weeks ago against Australia - in a very different way, what happened today was equally unthinkable.

This is not a post-mortem, but they are the achievements of the Irish national rugby team 2000-2011.  

Today marks the end of an era.

Modest Kidney A Man Worth Hailing

It’s a landmark that means little, but last week marked the fourth anniversary of one of my bigger breaks in radio.  I joined a national station, as a stringer, and for around a year I attended sporting events from Sligo to Cork, doing interviews and vox pops and compiling reports.

My first assignment came at an unremarkable Magners League game between Munster and the Scarlets at Musgrave Park in September 2007.  As is custom, I interviewed the winning coach after the match, and as well as getting his views on another Munster win, I decided to ask him about the story du jour in Irish rugby; the then-ongoing failure of Ireland at the Rugby World Cup in France.

The reply, in a word, was unremarkable.

“You’d have sympathy for all of them.  They’ve all burst their traps to put everything in place and, you know, it’s very disappointing the way it’s working out for them.”

“There’ll be no one more disappointed than the players and the management themselves.”

What makes those remarks relevant today, is that the man who uttered those words is the individual most responsible for the turnaround in the national team’s fortunes in the intervening four years.

I wonder when he spoke those words in the Dolphin Clubhouse in Musgrave Park, whether Declan Kidney thought for a moment that he could be best-suited to benefit from Ireland’s misfortune.  Would he have wished for it to happen?  No, I’m sure, but the Heineken Cup winning coach would have known that he would be a strong contender to take over the position in the event of Eddie O’Sullivan’s departure.  He could have stoked the fire, told me what he would have done differently, why things were going wrong.  He could have increased the pressure on O’Sullivan but he didn’t.  He spoke in generalities, in platitudes.  There was no criticism.  No headline.  Kidney kept his true feelings to himself.  That is how he operates.

Declan Kidney is humble and modest to the point of satire, but his ways do not change.  In his greatest hour, in Cardiff in March of 2009, he declined an invitation to stand with his players as they lifted the Six Nations Trophy.  He is not meek however.  Make no mistake, Declan Kidney is driven, focussed and determined.  This is a man who inspires those around him and without a doubt, has the full respect of those he leads.  Men are not as committed as Ireland were in the win over Australia, unless the fully believe in their cause.  Remember too, when Ireland’s preparations were in crisis after four losses in August, belief was never lost.  Just as there was no catastrophe, there was no delirium when Australia was dispatched.  The result was an opportunity, not an achievement in and of itself.

There’s no doubting, mind you, that Declan Kidney has been lucky.  There’s no Grand Slam if Jones’ penalty travels three yards longer, or if O’Gara doesn’t connect with a late drop goal.  And if Ireland’s defence were to relent late on at Eden Park, then it would be Australia who would have celebrated that night, and South Africa who we would be focussing on now.  But if he is fortunate now then he was fortunate in leading Munster to their success for so long too.  At some stage luck gives way to something more tangible than that, something more permanent.  Class, perhaps.

There’s no man I would rather entrust the hopes of a nation in at this moment in time.  That he is one of our own, that he is modest and self-assured in equal measure; both of these are vital.  Unlike Lefty Gomez, he’s lucky and good in equal measure.  There are question marks about some of his decisions – I’ve raised some myself – but for the first time in our history Ireland have a proven track record of form, an opportunity to shine and a management team to be confident in as we head into a World Cup Quarter Final.  

We dare to dream, as fans and as a nation, but our charges are grounded.  If Saturday goes wrong, we’ll all hurt, but “there’ll be no one more disappointed than the players and the management themselves.”

Always Remember...

An important lesson for all journalists, not least yours truly.  Being first is not always that important.

Podcast - No. 3

I do these sometimes, albeit not enough.

Still, for your ears, here are my thoughts on Ireland v. Italy this Sunday, why Ronan O'Gara is the right man to start...but only for now.

Ireland Must Keep Cool After Oz Wizardry

There’s no doubting that Ireland’s Rugby World Cup win over Australia on Saturday was a monumental event in Irish sporting history.  The first victory over a Southern Hemisphere side in the global competition is the latest in about 6 matches which shower our ‘wonder generation’ of stars in the glory they deserve, and it also has fantastic consequences for the remainder of the competition.

However, is there a danger that Ireland’s sporting media over-stating the win?  Today’s Irish Independent, to cite one example, ranked it at the top of a ‘Top-Five Ireland Rugby Wins of All-Time’ list.  Our grand slam clinching wins of 2009 and 1948 were second and third, ahead of a win over Australia in Dublin in 2006 and the Five Nations win at Twickenham in 1994.  However, in my opinion it doesn’t belong there.

To look at another sport, as an example, the Republic of Ireland’s greatest soccer win, in a World Cup at least, was against Italy at Giants Stadium in 1994.  The 1-0 win in our opening group game could have set up a fantastic odyssey in the USA, but it did not, and now that World Cup is a failure.  If our rugby stars do not capitalise on the win in Auckland Saturday, then the 2011 Rugby World Cup will also be a failure.

We need this win to be a springboard, and not the finished article: a step in the road, and not the destination.  A quarter-final loss to Wales, when we have already proven ourselves to be above their level, would be worse than an insipid defeat to Holland in Orlando in 1994 as it would come in a game where we would rightly be favourites.  And that’s before we even consider a potential defeat against Italy.  Our media need to realise this, and while we rightly celebrate Saturday’s achievement, we must move on, look forward, and dare to dream of more.

The one thing that does please me in all of this, however, is the reaction of the players.  There were scenes of joy following the final whistle, but it was not unbridled.  It was controlled, and refined, and in the interviews the players struck the right tone.  One even called it ‘the start of our World Cup.’  Ronan O’Gara aside (and his situation is unique), emotions were in check.  It was a job done, a column ticked, and there are many more to follow, or so we hope.  And dream.  And pray.  And, just a little, expect. 

Life Lesson Learned Through Sport - No. 48513

As is the case in sport, life is full of dilemmas, without having the merest iota as to which road to take.  We take risks and gambles, even when the fate of such decisions lies out of our hands, and their ‘correct-ness’ is in the hands of others.

Take two football stars, decades apart, who made similar decisions with opposite results.  While not in the same league as players, I would argue that Pele of 1975 and David Beckham of 2007 were stars of equal regard in the USA.  They were famous enough to permeate through American society in a market where football is not a leading sport.  Both tried to change that; one was moderately successful, the other not so much.

When he joined the Los Angeles Galaxy four years ago, David Beckham was looking to use his stardom to make the MLS a modern-day NASL.  The extinguished league of the 1970s and 1980s made soccer big in the US, particularly in New York, because of one team – the Cosmos – and their main man.  With Pele starting up front, the Cosmos sold out large stadiums across the country.  Their games were live on network television in a time when even the World Cup Final was.  Warner Brothers, who owned the team, assembled a plethora of stars but it was Pele, who mattered and who put bums in seats.

Beckham tried to emulate him, but despite their best efforts the Galaxy were not to be a twenty-first century Cosmos.  There are many reasons for this – he didn’t score as many goals, he was playing in a time when US fans could easily see that Major League Soccer was not the best league in the world.  However, his move could have worked.  He took a gamble (in spite of circumstances which perhaps meant he had to) which failed, while Pele’s gamble succeeded.  Pele will always be remembered for his success with Santos and Brazil, but unlike David Beckham, his American foray put a pleasant postscript onto his career.  I suspect the same will happen to Robbie Keane.

Both decisions could have been successful.  Both could have failed.  They’re similar gambles, though in different eras.  However, Beckham’s career (while never that of an all-time elite player) is now tarnished because his decision was the wrong one, at least in a sporting sense.

These are the decisions we all face, all the time.  Some are big, some small, but all have consequences, many of which are out of our control.  I can understand why David Beckham’s motives in going L.A.  Money aside, he wished to leave a mark and wanted to be remembered as more than just another very good footballer.  Would he have been better off staying in Europe?  No one will ever know, but that’s the thing about these decisions.  We never know.  We never know if they are right or wrong.  They are what they are.  Dilemmas, confusing, frustrating. 

When faced with these options, when you have no way of knowing what is the right thing to do and what will ultimately be wrong, it’s tough.  It’s difficult, and there are no right answers, at least not now.

That doubt is the worst bit of all.  Trust me.

A Moment Of Malaise

I wish I could write.

That’s a tough admission for someone who writes for a living, and wants to do so for some time to come.

I am a journalist, for radio, and if you want a four-sentence, 100-word summary of a news story then I’m your man.  Short, punchy sentences are no problem, but eloquence, verbose paragraphs and general flair are beyond me.

I’m not looking to be Shakespeare, or Norman Mailer or Hunter S. Thompson or even Bill Simmons.  I just want to be good enough to do what I want to do, what I want to be, what I always thought I was good enough to do.

I’m lazy – this blog hasn’t been updated since Jesus was in shorts.  That’s a bad habit.  It’s so long since I visited here that Google Chrome doesn’t know the URL to my own blog.  For shame Gavin, for shame.  Writers write, they work on their craft, they practice and they improve.  They learn from mistakes by making them.  I shy away from those errors.

I’m reluctant – I self-disparage.  I want myself to be the best and become disheartened by the fact that I know I’m not, and that I’m not close.  As a journalist, I don’t ‘get the story’ and as a columnist or someone who adds opinion, I make few points of worth.  It also, I imagine, is not a good sign that my first post of note in months (I’ve had a few false starts in the last while) is one in which I slate myself.  Nonetheless, I go on.

I’m inarticulate, at times – my command of the English language is not as it should be.  Where I wrote ‘disparage’ in the last sentence, I initially wrote defecate which, let’s be frank, is a lot worse than the truth.  I know I was looking for another word, I just don’t know what it was.

I’m plain – as a writer I lack humour, or wit.  I don’t believe that I provoke discussion.  I make good points at time, on twitter for example, or in general conversation, but find it difficult to expand these beyond 140 characters or an initial sentence.

I get distracted – I’m off to play Football Manager now before continuing this article.  And in the middle of that I’ll watch a field goal attempt from the NFL in 2008. True story.

I’m a poor manager – I lost 3-1 at home to Wigan.  Then again, I am Banbury United, and it is the Championship, so I might give myself a pass there.

I have a horrible attitude – that much is obvious though, huh?

I have other negative qualities, I’m sure, but you get the idea.  I also have some strong points.  I type quickly.  I’m an above-average speller too.  I even have a strong knowledge of things I write about (mainly sports, but other things too) and I can spot a story.  I also have to acknowledge that unlike a lot of people who get into this business, I’m working in a job so I must have some other qualities I am unaware of.

Despite that, and despite a number of other reasons to be happy like a loving family and relative financial comfort and a woman who loves me and a woman that I love (thankfully they are the same person), recently I find myself at a low.  I’m negative.  I’m chirpy, but I don’t mean it mostly and I become downbeat far too regularly.  Part of my life,the professional side, I would describe as being in a rut, and I see no way out of it.  I have a reasonable existence at the moment but I want more, and have no idea of how to make that a reality.

Metaphorically, I have A and B and C, but I want D, E, F and a whole lot more too.  That’s not greed, it’s ambition.  It’s a drive for more, that I have, yet that drive is something on which I do not act.  Or can not act.  I’m not sure. 

I want to be better.  I want to be happy, and to have everything.  Everyone does, of course, but I’m at one of those points in my life where I don’t know if it will ever happen, when at the same stage I should believe that anything can happen.

I want to be the writer that I want to be; I want to cover the big events, and make the points that people discuss.  I want to express my passion, and get paid for it because I’m damn good at it and because I’m worth listening to.  I want that to be true.  I don’t know if it ever will be, and while I have something not a million miles away from that now, I don’t know if it’s enough to satisfy me, and I don’t have the confidence to be sure that more will come.

I wish I could write.

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As this is a personal comments, I am disabling the comments section for this post only.  It will return.

Nick Charles RIP

Very sad to hear about the passing of Nick Charles.  The 64 year old had been battling cancer for some time, and called off his treatment in January in order to prepare for today.  I saw this video of him, created by his old employers CNN recently, and found it both touching and inspiring.  I hope you do too.