Mirror from my former Geocities site
taking it up the banner
When I came to College, I knew next to nothing about County Clare. They had won the Hurling All-Ireland the year before, Ennis and Shannon were there, and that was about it. Little was I to know that Clare would become the perfect illustration of the strange, postmodern blend of old and new cultural forces that have created the Ireland of today. The white heat of the information revolution and the white heat of All-Ireland hurling would merge in the banner in a massive, super combination of white heat. White heat that would burn indelibly into the National Consciousness that the Banner had arrived, and to prove it, it was here.
It was once said that the Irish peasant of the 19th century may have been materially poor, but was as politically informed as any citizen of any land; the newspapers of the day were au fait with the latest trends in political thought. The information age perhaps isn't as new as we think. The award of the Information Age town title to Ennis in 1997 (beating off the considerable challenge of Castlebar, Kilkenny and Killarney) may have been an exercise in corporate PR (and possibly an exercise in various other activities as well, if rumours in Castlebar are to be believed) but it is symbolic of the New Ireland of the C***** T**** and an armada of lazy magazine articles and promotional copy for industry; young, dynamic, forward-looking blah blah blah.
This New Clare was also seen in the 1992 election of Dr Moosajee Bhamjee of the Labour party as a TD. Whatever your political convictions, the idea that Clare, which at times has been a Fianna Fail four-seater, would elect a Labour psychiatrist of Indian Extraction to the Dail would once have been as likely as an International Airport in a bog in Mayo. Dr Bhamjee's subsequent attempt to combine his consultancy with representing the people of Clare in the Dail and unwillingness to fight another election may tamper my theory somewhat; but nevertheless the principle remains that things would never be the same in Ireland again. Shannon has developed a sizeable community of refugees, which in a perfect world would only enhance the cosmopolitanism of the place.
Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose. 1995 was the breakthrough year for Clare hurling in one sense, yet the game was an obsession for generations. Clare's victory, their colour, spirit and panache, was the moment when the GAA threw off the shackles of the cultural inferiority complex and stood up and took its place as possibly the greatest and most vibrant part of Irish culture. Clare hurling, for so long an endless story of heartbreak and humiliation, became the most extraordinary epic of Irish sport.
Clare hurlers became like rockstars in the Banner County; the Sparrow, Jamesie, Davy Fitz, Brian Lohan, and the Brian Epstein to the team's Beatles, Ger Loughnane. Loughnane helped shake off the inferiority complex the team had towards the so-called aristocrats, the Tipps and Corks, and instilled a new-self belief. Last summer saw Clare go from media darlings to villains and Lougnane go from a generally popular manager to being demonised as snarling and arrogant after his energetic defence of his team and attack on his enemies on Clare FM. Loughnane's bile was hilarious (who could forget his ridiculous claim that the treatment of Colin Lynch was "the worst human rights abuse of all time", or his account of three priests in Semple Stadium who were overheard announcing that "Clare were tinkers, Loughnane was a tramp and Clare were on drugs") yet it was hard not feel that here was another aspect of the New Ireland; the media dictating simplistic, stereotyped roles. Clare's story was a romance; their label was "plucky underdogs" and when it became obvious that their success owed much to ruthlessness and toughness they had overstepped their defined role and the knives came out for Loughnane.
But the colour and sheer spirit that Clare hurling brought out was the most heartening aspect of the New Ireland; a pride and love of life rooted in the local community. Recently former GAA executive Jimmy Smith published a collection of "Ballads of the Banner" in a book of the same name. These lyrics were sung unaccompanied and contain considerable wit and insight. Think how much social history is contained in the lines "Sue Ellen like a Turk on the farm is working/Without getting a great deal of help from the men." Or "The men who founded the GAA/Would scorn the modern parasitic way." Or the romantic vision of "Her step is light, her waist is slim/The lass that loves a hurler."
These Ballads of the Banner are full of life in all its facets. Clare is a microcosm of the New Ireland in many ways, not all positive; the Brendan O'Donnell murders in 1993 (EDITORS: NOT SURE ABOUT THE DATE) seemed to mark the beginning of an era of increasingly horrible murders. It was portrayed in the media as murder in Paradise, in "God's own country." Yet again this is not really anything new; delve into the archives and you'll find that, far from being a haven of purity and virtue, a demon seed of violence always existed. The fratricidal killings of the Civil War have been erased from our memory, but not from our collective unconscious; barely a lifetime ago this country was torn by as bitter and vicious a Civil War as has been seen anywhere.
Yet Clare is a great place. It epitomises many positive aspects of the New Ireland better than anywhere; with the Information Age town, with the very Sean Lemass-era Shannon Airport, and with a new self-confidence in their hurling team, in the traditional music and dancing which has always been strong there. A New Ireland in touch with the wider world and aware of it yet also unafraid to be itself and proud of its own uniqueness. A New Ireland that isn't perfect, but then again we like people for their good qualities but love them despite their faults. Clare is the lab for the New Ireland, the arena where the future of this country is being forged. And the people are dead sound
