I paid good money to enjoy Bocelli and Bublé in concert at The Point – but I never set foot inside the door of the 3Arena.
I cheered on the boys in green, in soccer and rugby, from the stands and the terraces in Lansdowne Road – but I’ve never passed through the turnstiles at the Aviva Stadium.
A largely forgettable production of To Kill a Mockingbird prompted my one and only visit to the Grand Canal Theatre – but I’ve no recollection whatsoever of ever being to the Bord Gais Energy Theatre.
And when the day comes to scorch along the new Macroom bypass to cheer on the Kingdom against the Rebels, I’ll be delighted to take my seat at Páirc Uí Chaoimh – but I’ll never ever say I visited SuperValu Park or SuperValu Páirc Uí Chaoimh or the SuperValu shopping-as-it-should-be palladium or whatever you’re having yourself.
The powers that be in all sporting codes and entertainment venues can hammer out whatever sponsorship deals they choose – and I genuinely wish them well in that essential and considerable task – but my in-built stubborn streak will always insist on The Point being called The Point, Lansdowne Road remaining just as it is and every other sporting or entertainment arena retaining the more dignified and less commercial version of the original name, at least in the venues I’m familiar with.
Let Pep Guardiola and the lads get up to whatever they want at the Etihad and Arsenal can do likewise in the Emirates but, here at home, we tend to consider things a little differently, probably more out of stubbornness, perhaps awkwardness or maybe a yearning for familiarity than any misguided sense of loyalty. A sort of a ‘if it’s not broken, why fix it?’ mentality. And there’s nothing at all wrong with that.
It’s important to stress that the commercial realities involved are entirely understandable and fully acknowledged and, to make ends meet, as they so desperately need to do, those clutching the abacus have to face up to the responsibility of paying bills and tackling debts.
But that required bit of housework on the part of the administrators should not serve as a disincentive or a barrier for true supporters from turning out to watch the games they love and, in reality, the branding at the entrance, the signage over their heads or on the seats on which they plant their posteriors shouldn’t matter one iota.
To be honest, if I was a Cork supporter – God help us – I wouldn’t give proposals to rebrand Páirc Uí Chaoimh a second thought for I’d be much more concerned with matters on the field of play. The best performance I’ve seen at the new-look Páirc Uí Chaoimh to date was delivered by Elton John on the first day of July in 2022 – Cleary and co will be anxious to create new displays to enthuse about and it won’t matter then what the field is called.
Buy your ticket, take your seat, watch the game, roar and shout, curse if you wish, go home and reflect on the enjoyable outing you’ve just had at the local GAA ground and refer to the stadium in whatever manner you wish. Call it anything you want. It’s as simple as that. You’re under no obligation to refer to it in any other way.
It you think it’s unjust or disrespectful that the original dedication to the great GAA administrator and soldier, Patrick Joseph O’Keeffe, is being somewhat sullied just stubbornly ignore the change and continue referring to the splendid new arena as Páirc Uí Chaoimh, paying your own personal homage to the great man in the process. Tell your children and their children who he was. Problem solved.
The one concern I would have in the whole debate is that a regular change of sponsor – which is a possibility – could result in utter confusion and when future generations and sporting historians are thumbing through the archives, they might be forgiven for thinking that the game we love and cherish was nothing more than a glorified commercial inter-firm league.
We’ve a great deal to be grateful for, however. It will never happen I know but imagine – just for a skit – various county boards agreeing to change the name of the teams as well as the stadia and you could be passing through the turnstiles at Kinder Bueno Park to catch championship clashes involving Sports Direct v Supermacs, Staycity v Avonmore or Elverys v Bective Stud tearooms and apartments.
The Kerry County Board, to their credit, played a blinder in that respect. Kerry is Kerry, as Sigerson Clifford himself might have reminded the decision makers, and the GAA here in this county is blessed to have a wonderful sponsor not making any unreasonable demands in terms of branding. It’s a quality thing, you see.
Let’s consider, for a moment or two, the situation soon to be faced at Killarney’s Fitzgerald Stadium. With a major and badly needed €72 million redevelopment in the very early planning phase, the day will come when an offer that’s too tempting to resist is tossed on the table that could banish, with one stroke of a pen, some the enormous debts that will be incurred.
The payback would probably involve some dramatic form of name change and that, like the current saga on Leeside, would cause all sorts of consternation, gnashing of teeth and thumping of fists on bar counters.
But what should the committee do? Barring something completely preposterous, like HB insisting on a rebrand to the Wibbly Wobbly Wonder Arena, or Kellogg’s demanding Rice Krispie Park, everything would have to be considered and some variation that is fully respectful to the memory of the late great Dick Fitzgerald would have to be agreed to the satisfaction of all parties.
That day will come – be under no illusions about that – but whatever the outcome, to the people of Kerry it will always be Fitzgerald Stadium and, to locals in Killarney, it will forever be The Park. Generations of history cannot be wiped out just like that.
Lessons can be learned from the foresight of those involved in basketball with clubs linking arms and cosying up to commercial concerns when the sport was in its heyday but short of cash in the mid-to-late 1980s.
It threw up some epic battles in packed to overflowing local halls with, for example, glamour local derbies in Cork featuring thrilling, gripping, end-to-end encounters between Terry Strickland’s Neptune and Jasper McElroy’s Blue Demons.
The fact that the games were billed everywhere and reported in the media as Burgerland against Dawn Milk didn’t matter one bit to supporters. It was still Neptune against the Demons. It was the quality and excitement on the court they remembered. Sport is sport, despite the many distractions, and sponsorship is a key part of it.
Aware of the guaranteed profile and the big return, astute sponsors are now pumping big bucks into sport. They demand and certainly deserve a payback. Otherwise, crippling debt will remain, standards will stagnate, ambition will be thwarted and clubs will be forced to fight to stay in contention and remain relevant.
Yet when it comes to the white heat of championship, it will be the performance of John Cleary’s side that will be on everybody’s lips as they file out of Páirc Uí Chaoimh or SuperValu Park or SuperValu Páirc Uí Chaoimh or Pádraig Ó Chaoimh SuperValu Park this summer.
It goes without saying that great Gaels like Ó Chaoimh must be afforded the respect and the dignity they deserve and it is imperative that that they be remembered in an appropriate manner. But when commercial reality bites and the bank manager’s number is among the most frequent listed in the calls received panel, the cold light of day reality must also be factored in.
At the day’s end, it’s all about compromise and it is, after all, better to bend a little than to break.
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