McGuinness Rules O.K.

Back in those antediluvian amateur days, before the great flood of professionalism, the rugby tackle was a thing of beauty – the ball-carrier in full flow subtly spancelled by an intrepid defender and the pair of them, locked in an ad hoc embrace, coming down to earth with all the elegance of a Concorde. Putting a veto on distribution was regarded as a work of supererogation then but now, of course, it has become a primary consideration and defending, in consequence, is carried out by the celebrated combo of assault and battery. But there was one area of the old fashioned game where defending was always a full-frontal business and where no holds were ever barred. The immediate vicinity of the scrummage was designated guerilla country – the No 8’s issued reciprocal fatwas there and peripheral vision was a strict necessity. For many years in this benighted underworld Shay McGuinness held sway.

McGuinness, of course, was first and foremost a superlatively offensive No. 8 and “no distance too great or too small” might have been his marketing motto when he plied his trade as a ball-carrier. No Rockalyoke aficionado is without his trove of memories of McGuinness (mis)appropriating matches, either for reasons of strict pragmatism or for his own personal amusement. But he was known, too, as a No.8 who, rather than leave them on the latch, kept his defensive doors firmly locked and any attempted enterprise by his opposite number was met, not just with a frisking, but with a full-scale barrack-room interrogation. McGuinness, it was said, could smother a cold.

His playing days over, he took his reputation and his strategies with him into a decidedly successful coaching career – he ministered for almost a decade at Rockalyoke before migrating down the road to Drogheda and the award to him of the Irish Colleges coaching job was in the nature of an Oscar. It was during his tenure on the Boyne that he would have come within the ambit of Gaelic Guru Sean Boylan. Boylan’s Meath team was beginning to shed its stellar status at the time and he felt that the freshness of a rugbyman’s approach would be of benefit. It was. McGuinness’ trademark tenacity was always likely to fit in seamlessly with the aesthetics-free style of the Royal County.

Flash forward now a few years to Sydney Australia and the spectacular outbreak of pitch-rage there twelve months ago. The long term clinical trials which had hoped to yield a flawless mating of Gaelic Football and Australian Rules are in disarray and diplomatic relations between the GAA and the AFL are in an advanced state of frailty. After much public palaver the decision is taken to give it one more go. Sean Boylan is asked to take charge of the Irish team for the make-or-break series. And one of the first men he thinks of as a potential auxiliary is McGuinness. The tackle, you see, has been identified as a major culprit in the sulphurous exchanges on the subcontinent and the reputation that McGuinness totes from his playing days is that of a tackler who was obdurate in his commitment but never less than scrupulously fair. With Boylan’s prompting, McGuinness’ expressed retirement has mutated into a consultancy and the signs are that his advice is already beginning to bear fruit. Things went relatively smoothly in Galway on Saturday night – at least on the pitch – and a full house was gratified by a storming Irish finish. If the Compromise Rules game emerges from its present travails without further compromise a measure of gratitude will be owing to the Skerries icon.