Growing up in the 80s in Northern Ireland was a very simple time. If you avoided being murdered then life was pretty much laid out for you in black and white. Or green and orange to be exact. There was no pussy footing about, you either loved something or you hated it, depending on which side of the sectarian fence you threw your petrol bombs over.
And if you were brought up on the green side then you hated rugby. There were rumours of one Catholic school which played it, but they were either a private school, in which case they were basically Protestants anyway, or they were from somewhere in Antrim, in which case they were basically from another planet. It was not until 2019 that the first Northern Irish Catholic Grammar school played in the prestigious Ulster School’s Cup in rugby, so the separation is still there.
Now of course there will be many people in the North who have moved on from those sad times and embraced things that were once only done by the other side. These people, of course, should be commended for reaching across the divide and long may it continue. I, however, still have certain NI genes in me which will not allow me to change. My first job may have been with an entirely Protestant workforce who I got on with like a house on fire, my first serious girlfriend may have been a Protestant, who I also got on with like a house on fire (her parents were a totally different matter and would have preferred that my house was on fire), and I am most definitely no longer in any way, shape or form a Catholic… but I will forever hate rugby.
We do, us Nordies, have a tendency to overuse the word ‘hate’, in that we will say “I hate Southern Tayto”, when in fact we don’t really hate them, hate is too strong a word for normal people for that sort of thing. But for us ‘hate’ was a simple fact of growing up and we tend to not do middle ground easily, so in fact I do utterly despise Southern Tayto, and proper Tayto, even though it’s very Protestant from Tandagree, I will love forever. Hey, I didn’t say we do logic, but to us it is all very clear even if to the rest of you it seems a bit insane. But if I may paraphrase the infamous words of Sheldon Cooper, “I’m not insane, I have been tested”.
Anyway, back to rugby, and I am afraid I must disagree with my friend John McGuirk and his article on being anti-rugby from yesterday. I’m not “anti-rugby” per se, I believe in freedom, and those who choose to play rugby should be allowed to. It’s just they should be at the very least shunned by polite society, or preferably locked away somewhere to do it without the rest of us having to be subjected to it. Keep it in Limerick, it’s not like the rest of us want to go there anyway. But most importantly, stop shoving it down our throats and telling us we must get behind Ireland when they’re playing rugby. I should absolutely not be obliged to.
Rugby is the Porsche of sports. It’s ugly, overrated, and has a small but extremely insane bunch of supporters who will, at the first mention of you not liking it, immediately tell you why you’re too stupid to understand it and that you’ve only ever played rubbish sports and not a real one. Or words to that effect. You’ll even be told you aren’t Irish if you don’t support the rugby team. Which is weird, because I thought it was my passport that told me I was Irish. Or was it the Good Friday Agreement? Or the taxman? Anyway someone tells me I’m Irish, even though after 25 years of living in Dublin an awful lot of people still call me a “Nordie *******” and tell me I should feck off back home.
I have a friend who is South African and he lives for rugby, as is the way with most South Africans. Him I don’t mind, because apart from the occasional ribbing about football being a girls sport, he simply doesn’t care that I don’t like rugby and I don’t care that he does. We are happy with being different. Why can’t Irish rugby fans be that way?
John did say earlier this week that it was true that “rugby can be at times entirely insufferable” and on that I will agree with him. Apart from the “at times” bit, it’s always insufferable. The fans, the players, the middle-classness of it all. I mean they can’t even get a ball the correct shape. And therefore I can never support it, and I will remain forever in my circle of the Venn Diagram of Irish people which holds the “those who hate rugby” ones. Whether everyone else moves to another circle or not I will never change. I reserve that right to be free to hate whatever I want, partly because we all should be allowed that freedom, but mostly because I’m a stubborn Nordie ****** and some things will never change.
NOTE: The author is a Northern Irish businessman, based in South County Dublin. In view of his location, the Editor has chosen to withhold his name for his own safety.