The great sporting conflict of home grown talent and eligible foreigners
SUBJECTIVITY is a common blanket on the question of what it means to be Irish.
Donning the green cap and pontificating grandly on the merits of an Irish passport isn’t something that comes naturally to Irish citizens. The bashful rebuttal of compliments that is our ‘second nature’ means that we are often slow to consider the advantages of something that we had no hand, act or part in. It is - and always has been - the Irish way.
Ireland’s history tells us a lot about the make-up behind our own unique personality and though the finished product is garnished with a roguish charm and a devilish wit, the historical suffering under decades of colonisation and oppression that led to our inherent Irish-ness is the single biggest determining factor in our character today. Though most of us are loathe to admit it, we have all suffered for our heritage.
Being Irish is in itself a precious commodity: eminently tradable and sellable on the international market. It stands alone in separating us from our near neighbours in the UK and the green badge of honour that comes with Irish roots is almost always well received in foreign quarters. Everyone loves the Irish, right?
Branding Irish characteristics as ‘stereotypes’ just because we are uncomfortable with repetitive compliment does not dilute the fundamental uniqueness of our nature. Generally speaking, in international terms, being Irish is a massive advantage.
Sporting matters
Let’s take it one step further. The limitations of Ireland’s size and stature has never been an impediment to mixing it with the big boys. In fact, one could argue that we have always punched above our weight and nowhere epitomises this more than on the field of sport.
Maybe Ireland’s inner strength is born out of a fighting spirit that seeps through our DNA. After all, it wasn’t that long ago when our ancestors scrapped and battled for every little advantage.
Or maybe we have an admirable ability to raise ourselves in the face of bigger and stronger opposition; a gesture of defiance to complement our scrappy underdog tag.
Whatever the reasons, Ireland has a long standing tradition in sporting success that belies our scant population and god help anyone that tries to take it away.
As I write, a problem is beginning to brew. There is a growing argument, among certain Irish quarters, that the influx of Irish eligible players to the international stage is diluting the green jersey.
If we take rugby as the prime example, a player born outside of Ireland, but who is uncapped at senior level in another country, can qualify to play for Ireland after just three years of residency.
Recently, the likes of Richardt Strauss and Jarod Payne have been capped for the international side, while CJ Stander has expressed his intention to declare for Ireland at the end of November, despite captaining the South Africa under 20’s as recently as 2010.
None of these players are breaking any rules and as the law stands each is perfectly entitled to declare and play for Ireland. But not everyone is happy about it.
The thrust of this argument pits competitive advantage against heart-felt patriotism. On the one hand, we have a bunch of players that, despite being born and reared elsewhere, add a definite value and skill-set to the Ireland squad. On merit and playing ability alone, each deserves his place in the team.
Something to think about
But there is another argument that says players from Ireland are being prevented from representing their own country because of the current rules surrounding foreign players.
Is it right that a player that has worked his way up through the ranks from schoolboy rugby to underage representation and then on to senior level is deprived of their ultimate dream because a player from another country happens to have been living in Ireland for three years?
And can we expect a player from South Africa to pull on the green jersey of Ireland and deliver the same passion and commitment to the cause as a born and bred Irishman, despite having little or no Irish heritage to call on?
The fact that these are professional players, with all the sacrifice and discipline that that entails, means Ireland will always sustain a certain standard of performance from the new recruits.
But in a game where tiny margins have the potential for huge impact and where the width of a finger tip can decide games, can there ever be the same level of commitment from an Irish qualified player as there would be from a homegrown Irish talent?
Does competitiveness in international sport equate to putting the best team on the pitch, regardless of history or culture, or does it mean staying loyal to the ideal that playing for ones country is about representing a nation for which we have a vested, emotional attachment?
The cost of entry into the Ireland rugby team currently stands at three years’ residency. Surely the green jersey is worth more than just the required miles on the clock. Something for the IRFU and World Rugby to think about.
