The FAI were still in the midst of their three-hour session in front of the Public Accounts Committee when the memes and one-liners began to flow.
There was a picture of a Republic of Ireland starting XI with all of the names redacted.
Then came the photo of the new sponsor for the men’s senior team: again it was redacted.
The search for what should be the association’s jewel in the crown on the front of the jersey has been going on for even longer than a new manager. One throwaway line is that the onus is on those in the media now more than ever to actually confirm who will replace Stephen Kenny as the FAI may not even reveal it themselves.
FAI chief executive Jonathan Hill now knows the implications such a throwaway line can have, given he revealed how it was simply one such moment that led to him receiving €12,000 in lieu of holidays not taken.
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The moment that will live long in the memory, a kind of reverse gotcha given the FAI knew it must have been coming, arrived at around 10.20am when Fianna Fáil’s Paul McAuliffe began questioning.
Just minutes earlier Hill made his opening statement, insisting he didn’t seek the payment which, after a Sport Ireland investigation, led to State funding being temporarily suspended last year and the money ultimately being repaid.
Part of his concluding remarks were how he was “excited for what is to come in 2024″ and “happy to answer committee member questions”.
Moments later McAuliffe was holding up part of an email chain which the FAI supplied late – at 11.28pm on Wednesday night – despite the committee requesting it so that they could understand the rationale behind the payment made to Hill.
It was entirely redacted.
This FAI now appears no different to the old FAI, and the one before that, and the one before that: fighting an everlasting losing battle against controversy and self-sabotage; still the butt of the joke in Irish sport.
Yet it was impossible not to feel a wave of anger as this played out.
As The 42′s Gavin Cooney pointed out: “About to cover my eighth FAI/Oireachtas meeting for The 42. For context, I’ve covered nine senior MNT competitive wins in that time.”
Grim.
There are decades that Irish football fans wish they could redact, but it’s not just about one obscured email. It’s what it represents in terms of those cornerstones of good governance: responsibility and accountability.
Rugby has brought itself into a different orbit – albeit in a more niche sport that still catches attention – and while it’s easy to deride the national team as perennial quarter-final losers, you cannot ignore the strides taken by the IRFU and its provinces over the last couple of decades in becoming a powerhouse of their game.
The GAA, of course, is a cultural behemoth, but in the upper echelons of Croke Park it does not rely on goodwill to thrive. It is a relentless corporate juggernaut that taps into hearts and minds and O’Neill’s shorts.
This is what has to change for Irish football.
This was the week when FAI director of football Marc Canham unveiled his Player Pathways Plan, a document that cannot be allowed to simply rot in a drawer because of the fallout to this disastrous afternoon in Leinster House.
Included in Canham’s blueprint are clear, clinical practices for how to better Irish football from the grassroots up to international level that need to be implemented as a matter of urgency.
But an occasion like this – and that gotcha moment when McAuliffe held up the redacted email – will render so much of that good work null and void in the eyes of political power brokers who are needed to herald this change.
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Don’t forget, the FAI had hoped to use this meeting as a chance to make their case for a redistribution of the betting levy, not to mention reminding members of their €863m facility investment vision and strategy.
Instead, a day like this showed how those in the boardroom of the FAI have not quite grasped the depths to which Irish football administration must still change.
The anger felt among the Irish football community is because today’s events in Leinster House give anyone who doesn’t want to see Irish football prosper a very easy way out: just hold up that redacted email and laugh.
The FAI are not just the butt of the joke, but by appearing evasive, they can continue to be easily dismissed and ignored when their claims are valid.
That will suit some in Irish sport just fine, but football in this country deserves better.
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FAI the butt of the joke again but now there is an anger that must lead to change
OF COURSE THE jokes came quickly.
The FAI were still in the midst of their three-hour session in front of the Public Accounts Committee when the memes and one-liners began to flow.
There was a picture of a Republic of Ireland starting XI with all of the names redacted.
Then came the photo of the new sponsor for the men’s senior team: again it was redacted.
The search for what should be the association’s jewel in the crown on the front of the jersey has been going on for even longer than a new manager. One throwaway line is that the onus is on those in the media now more than ever to actually confirm who will replace Stephen Kenny as the FAI may not even reveal it themselves.
FAI chief executive Jonathan Hill now knows the implications such a throwaway line can have, given he revealed how it was simply one such moment that led to him receiving €12,000 in lieu of holidays not taken.
The moment that will live long in the memory, a kind of reverse gotcha given the FAI knew it must have been coming, arrived at around 10.20am when Fianna Fáil’s Paul McAuliffe began questioning.
Just minutes earlier Hill made his opening statement, insisting he didn’t seek the payment which, after a Sport Ireland investigation, led to State funding being temporarily suspended last year and the money ultimately being repaid.
Part of his concluding remarks were how he was “excited for what is to come in 2024″ and “happy to answer committee member questions”.
Moments later McAuliffe was holding up part of an email chain which the FAI supplied late – at 11.28pm on Wednesday night – despite the committee requesting it so that they could understand the rationale behind the payment made to Hill.
It was entirely redacted.
This FAI now appears no different to the old FAI, and the one before that, and the one before that: fighting an everlasting losing battle against controversy and self-sabotage; still the butt of the joke in Irish sport.
Yet it was impossible not to feel a wave of anger as this played out.
As The 42′s Gavin Cooney pointed out: “About to cover my eighth FAI/Oireachtas meeting for The 42. For context, I’ve covered nine senior MNT competitive wins in that time.”
Grim.
There are decades that Irish football fans wish they could redact, but it’s not just about one obscured email. It’s what it represents in terms of those cornerstones of good governance: responsibility and accountability.
Rugby has brought itself into a different orbit – albeit in a more niche sport that still catches attention – and while it’s easy to deride the national team as perennial quarter-final losers, you cannot ignore the strides taken by the IRFU and its provinces over the last couple of decades in becoming a powerhouse of their game.
The GAA, of course, is a cultural behemoth, but in the upper echelons of Croke Park it does not rely on goodwill to thrive. It is a relentless corporate juggernaut that taps into hearts and minds and O’Neill’s shorts.
This is what has to change for Irish football.
This was the week when FAI director of football Marc Canham unveiled his Player Pathways Plan, a document that cannot be allowed to simply rot in a drawer because of the fallout to this disastrous afternoon in Leinster House.
Included in Canham’s blueprint are clear, clinical practices for how to better Irish football from the grassroots up to international level that need to be implemented as a matter of urgency.
But an occasion like this – and that gotcha moment when McAuliffe held up the redacted email – will render so much of that good work null and void in the eyes of political power brokers who are needed to herald this change.
Don’t forget, the FAI had hoped to use this meeting as a chance to make their case for a redistribution of the betting levy, not to mention reminding members of their €863m facility investment vision and strategy.
Instead, a day like this showed how those in the boardroom of the FAI have not quite grasped the depths to which Irish football administration must still change.
The anger felt among the Irish football community is because today’s events in Leinster House give anyone who doesn’t want to see Irish football prosper a very easy way out: just hold up that redacted email and laugh.
The FAI are not just the butt of the joke, but by appearing evasive, they can continue to be easily dismissed and ignored when their claims are valid.
That will suit some in Irish sport just fine, but football in this country deserves better.
It’s not a joke, or a laughing matter.
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