So what would you do for your county? Burn your hair to a frazzle trying to dye it white? (Kildare.) Plan to graduate from college in your county colours? (Meath.) Paint your house in blocks of green, white and gold? (Kerry.) Walk from Kerry to Croke Park to get an All-Ireland ticket? (Guess.) When Lisa Browne, the Bank of Ireland woman with the job of getting value for money for the bank's £10 million All-Ireland football sponsorship, tried to convey that sense of passion, emotion and fever of a county's All-Ireland bid, I suddenly remembered what she was talking about. It has sucked in the most jaundiced, the most unsuspecting of us.
When this writer's adopted county, Kildare, hit a winning run after about 60 years in the ditch, it was astoundingly easy to get hooked. Short-lived it may have been, but we saw them through the province and out of it, and safely into Croke Park for the final show-down. And we made the pilgrimage to Johnstown for the first stage of their emotional journey home (bested by sneaky Galwegians with miraculous medals sewn inside their jerseys), to thank them for uniting this complex county of blow-ins and transients in a mighty celebration of home and the Lilywhites for a few glorious weeks in the summer of 1998.
It all felt more real somehow than the national frenzy surrounding the soccer world cups. At Croke Park, the players might be gods for a day, but out in the workshops and tillage fields of their native counties, they are ordinary men, made extraordinary, not by million-pound paydays, transfers or endorsements, but by fierce commitment and a lifelong parish loyalty.
And what about the women? Lisa Browne's objective this year is to lure more women into championship fever. She has her work cut out. The bank's own survey shows that only one-third of women show any real interest, compared to 70 per cent of men. I remind her that I couldn't even get a cup of coffee in Croke Park in 1998. And ok, cherish your traditions but what's wrong with a little American-style razzamatazz?
"We don't have it just yet but we're getting better at it," she says. "We've put bands on the streets and roadways leading up to Croke Park; we've had face-painting and given out flags.
"We're working together with the GAA to make the occasion better but the GAA too needs to look at that concept a little bit more. We're looking at intense competition from other games. The young are looking to be entertained. We have numerous ideas and the GAA needs to allow us to get on with them."
So will the GAA be forced to review the annual outing of the Artane Boys' Band (with its now tragically tarnished associations)? Will it concede a woman's right to a cup of decent coffee without having to engage in hand to hand combat? The new state-of-the-art facility that will soon be Croke Park (with a thumping £25 million worth of public funding) may remedy the catering short-fall but what about the gimmicks? And does the GAA really need them if they threaten to alienate the traditional fans?
Part of Lisa Browne's strategy to create more awareness and appeal for women is to "redevelop the image of the players, to make them a little more trendy and interesting". To this end, she proposes competitions such as "Who has the Best Legs?" (in co-operation with a Sunday newspaper); "What would you Wear to the Championship?" (a best-dressed woman competition, basically); "Design a Gown for a Player's Partner" for the post-final banquet; or media features along the lines of "A Day in the Life of the Captain's or Manager's wife" - stories, she suggests, "that haven't been told to date".
In terms of creating awareness, competitions such as "Who has the Best Legs?" might just work. In terms of annoying the hell out of feisty, competent, no-nonsense GAA women like Liz Howard, it might just work too.
"The Bank of Ireland has done a lot for the profile of Gaelic football and ladies' Gaelic football in particular", says the Aer Lingus woman, who has been PRO for the Tipperary County Board for 20 years, "but I think to start something like a Best Legs competition is a backward step. It's away from the sexist attitude that we want to get. And I don't think it does the Bank of Ireland justice."
What makes the timing particularly unappealing for women such as Howard is that female involvement in the GAA (as opposed to simply spectating) has made enormous strides in recent years. Women's football, by many accounts, is the country's fastest-growing sport, attracting increasing crowds and television coverage. In addition, the advent of Joe McDonagh as GAA president in 1997 (with a respectful nod to his predecessor, Mick Loftus, who tried), swept in a new era of inclusivity across Croke Park, culminating in January's meeting of the National Forum for Women in Gaelic Games. This was organised by the Workgroup on Increased Participation of Women set up by McDonagh, and chaired by Howard, and its echoes will carry far into the future.
As Sean Moran of The Irish Times reported: "Unlike the GAA's annual congress, increasingly a rubber-stamping exercise (and that, on a good day), the debates were informed and conducted by committed and enthusiastic delegates whose average age must have been about 60 years younger than that prevalent at [the GAA's annual]
Congress." And the then President-elect of the GAA, Sean McCague, added to the gaiety by saying all the right things: "For too long, we have rejected half the population," he declared. "Thankfully, it's turning around and women are demanding their rightful say." Then as presidents are entitled to do, he replaced the old committee with a new one (for the Increased Participation of Women in the GAA). And appointed a man to the chair. He probably had his reasons . . .
But it will take more than that to slow the onward march. The GAA has already copped on to the fact that it needs women simply to keep the game alive. The fact that nowadays the overwhelming proportion of teachers is female means that these hugely influential creatures - once the excluded species in GAA land - must be won over and persuaded to inculcate a love for the code in children. So now the GAA runs coaching courses, with particular encouragement for teachers, many of whom happen to be female.
"This is very healthy and very important," says Liz Howard, "because young boys will grow up accepting women as equals, seeing them as natural coaches, team managers, referees, selectors and advisers . . . The GAA must reflect modern society, which is inclusive and also community-based." The guys and gals both make the sandwiches now.
Under the brand-new "alliance" (i.e. the inclusion of camogie and women's football under the Croke Park umbrella), women and forward-thinking GAA men will be hammering out tetchy issues such as grades of membership and meaningful representation for women on influential Croke Park committees.
But the game isn't over yet. Croke Park sources still talk about how several highly-placed GAA men nearly "dropped dead" when they heard that the Bank of Ireland's £10 million sponsorship was being managed by a woman - the capable, 30-year-old, Kerry woman, Lisa Browne.
And that's only a few years ago. As in everything, there will always be those who will work to exclude women. "But that's if one allowed exclusion to happen - which one doesn't," says Liz Howard with a threatening laugh.
"I'd absolutely encourage women to get involved because the sense of satisfaction and fun and buzz by far outweigh any of the negatives. I think it's a tremendous organisation. I love it - warts and all."
