In the 50 years that have passed since the now veteran broadcaster Micheal O Muircheartaigh noticed an advertisement inviting aspiring commentators to try their hand at broadcasting, Gaelic games have experienced revolutionary changes. Politics and traditional charges of nationalism and language promotion aside, these changes have been largely concerned with improved standards of play and an increased popularity.
"We like to romanticise the past and say things used to be so much better in the old days. But the truth is that the hurlers of today are playing at a far higher standard than they ever did before."
County pride is a huge factor. GAA - once exclusively rural - is now urban too. If there is a single reason for the current national strength of Gaelic football and hurling, it lies in having a bedrock of more than 2,000 clubs - all determined to have an impact at county level.
Having become the voice of Gaelic games and a national icon is something O Muircheartaigh appears to have accepted as a fact of life. He will be 68 next month but is reluctant to reveal his exact birthday, "there'd be all those cards to deal with". What's wrong with that? "We don't need that," he says with a determined shrug.
Such is his influence that a common feature at any match is the sight of many supporters watching the action on the field while also listening to his radio broadcast courtesy of the transistors held at ear-level. His success probably owes a great deal to the fact that he is interested in all sport, is an 11-handicap golfer - "I like being out in the open" - loves athletics, particularly middle distance ("there's something magical about the mile and 1,500 metres"), and has always kept a greyhound for racing. His current dog (he has never had more than one at a time) will either race in Australia shortly or might be sold on. Most of all, however, O Muircheartaigh has an obsessive fascination with information. His somewhat ecclesiastical presence creates an aura of never having left anything to chance. Efficient, deliberate, thorough, he is not given to casual jokes. Like most strong, silent types, particularly those native to Co Kerry, he is a great talker when he gets going but idle chat holds no appeal for him. There are no prizes for guessing he spent 30 years as a teacher, nor that he loves the Irish language as much as sport.
In a match preview written for the Farmer's Journal some days before last Sunday's dramatic Leinster Hurling Championship final, he openly put his money on Kilkenny rather than the current All-Ireland champions Offaly. "It is dangerous to oppose any Offaly team which has a mission, and the desire to win back-to-back All-Irelands must be very much a target this time round. But from the beginning of this year I have had a hunch that Kilkenny are in for a good run." Recent history would seem to be on the side of the midlanders, a team which emerged in the 1980s and has won four titles, thus earning a place alongside counties with longer established GAA pedigrees such as Cork, Tipperary, and the artists from Kilkenny. Last year Kilkenny beat Offaly for the Leinster title but the result was reversed in the All-Ireland. O Muircheartaigh's prophetic backing of Kilkenny this year was influenced by their annihilation of Laois in the semi-final, and last weekend's five-goal rampage over a good Offaly team suggests his forecast, "Kilkenny are in for a good run", will be confirmed come September.
While many sports commentators seem to base their observations on personal opinion and instinct, O Muircheartaigh's approach is more deliberate, a combination of history, fact and common sense. Curiously, for a broadcaster whose reporting ("he hits it high, he hits it far, he hits it over the bar", or "it's a goal, it's a goal, it's a goal") style is vivid, high speed, anecdotal and distinctive enough to be open to parody, away from the commentary box he is reserved and detached. By nature a serious man, he is cautious, as stern as he is earnest. So many interviewees adopt a stance of gazing off into the middle distance; he is engaged, his deep-set eyes are direct and no reply is easily given.
Sport, he says, is about identification and a sense of belonging. More than any other sport in Ireland, GAA works at a local, county and national level precisely because it is not geared to the international arena. It is based in the parish and draws its strength from this. Clubs celebrate if one of their own features in a county side.
How does he see himself? "As a Dingle man, as a Kerryman, as an Irishman. We all need our slots." Internationalism is a good thing, he says, because it makes people more aware of where they are from and mentions that at his daughter's wedding, prayers were said in an assortment of languages including Irish, English, German, Chinese and Greek. "When I go abroad I always take notice of the language, customs, traditions of other places. Everywhere has its own as we have ours, and our own are no better than those of elsewhere but they are special to us and that is what makes them important."
Born in 1930, he is the fourth child of eight and third son of a dairy farmer. Home is Doonshean, part of the then breac Ghaeltacht about three miles outside Dingle. Life was comfortable: "Farmers were successful then and dairy farmers were the most successful." At 15 he went away to boarding school, "the first of my family to do so", to Colaiste Iosagain, near Ballyvourney in the west Cork Gaeltacht, Cuil Aodha. The birthplace of poet Sean O Riordain, it is also the place in which composer Sean O Riada would settle in 1964. Although O Muircheartaigh is a native Irish speaker and his early schooling in Dingle was at an Irish-speaking school, he says his love for the Irish language only developed when he went to Cork.
"It was a beautiful place, idyllic surroundings. There was also great importance placed on traditional singing, I was very taken with it. The school was geared towards people becoming primary teachers so the pupils came from all over Ireland. I became very interested in the different dialects and it was there I discovered the beauty of Donegal Irish." In a characteristic aside of the type which might feature in a commentary, he refers to the President, Mrs McAleese having gone to Donegal to learn Irish instead of going to the RDS: "Her Irish is meant to be very good. She has a lesson each week and has done very well for someone who came to it late."
While he was away at school, a social revolution, rural electrification, was taking place. On return home for a school holiday, "I touched a switch and there was light". He enjoyed sport and played football with more enthusiasm than flair and soon found his challenge undermined by knee injuries. In time, Colaiste Iosagain gave way to St Patrick's Training College in Drumcondra. Was it difficult, at 18, encountering Dublin for the first time?
`Not at all. So many of the people I had gone to school with were with me at St Pat's, I never felt I was in a strange place. I loved Dublin from the start." As soon as he had qualified as a teacher, he set about continuing his studies, attending UCD at night, first taking an arts degree. "I did Irish, economics - I've always liked economics - and archaeology, then an H.Dip and then I did a B.Comm, also at night. I like the idea of doing different things. It puts you in contact with all kinds of people you might not otherwise meet."
He has lived in Dublin since 1948, settling in Blanchardstown in 1970 when he married, and in time becoming the father of eight children now ranging in age from 28 to "almost 17", but he remains a Kerryman. Still, how could anyone exchange the Dingle Peninsula for the narrow attractions of Dublin? His reply is matter of fact. "I go to Kerry all the time; I've never lost contact. It's home."
Sports commentators are a mixed lot; shrill, hysterical, even partisan. Some are informed, others sound more like a confused cross between PR men and snide chat show hosts. Small wonder it makes more sense to turn down the volume and rely on the television images. Many sports suffer, particularly athletics. For years the best that followers of track and field could hope for was memorising David Coleman's occasionally chaotic mixed metaphors, some of which have become legendary. The late Dan Maskell, representing the leisurely old school of gentlemen commentators, could always be relied upon to bring a touch of grace to the increasingly cut-throat world of international sport with comments such as "and these gentlemen in this Wimbledon semi-final are truly playing tennis fit for the gods". The Scot Bill McLaren can lift even the dullest rugby match by virtue of his passion for the sport and encyclopaedic knowledge of the playing histories of "doughty citizens such as this massive farmer from Dunedin".
In common with McLaren, O Muircheartaigh shares a genealogical approach to research and it shows in their commentaries. Players have often played "like his father before him" and an entire family background may be presented on the strength of a player scoring a goal. O Muircheartaigh, coincidentally, are school masters. There are those who might find the McLarens and O Muircheartaighs too ripe, too given to rhetoric and literary effect complete with folklorist flourishes. But the Kerryman comments exclusively for radio, and his job is to provide the word pictures, enabling listeners to follow the ball. Few sports are as addictive as hurling, very few as skilful and, with the exception of ice hockey, it is the fastest.
Why was he drawn to commenting? "I wasn't at all. I had never thought about it. I just went along when I saw an ad. A lot of us did, the idea of a try-out seemed fun and then there was also the fact that Micheal O'Hehir was famous. We thought we might get on the radio." O'Hehir, a Dubliner 10 years O Muircheartaigh's senior, was a career sports commentator specialising in racing as well as GAA. He had begun to broadcast commentaries at 18 and abandoned his engineering studies at UCD to become a full-time commentator, something O Muircheartaigh wasn't to do until retiring from teaching in 1980. O'Hehir was often blamed for being "agin the losers" and in 1983 could have been at the receiving end of a rare display of GAA violence when 30 supporters of the Dublin team beseiged him in the commentary box in Navan. In contrast to O Muircheartaigh's rhythmic Kerry accent, O'Hehir's was very shrill. Even so, there was no doubting his excitement.
O Muircheartaigh's breakthrough came in the wake of another star commentator, Sean O Siochain - also a singer - having too much to do. Was O Siochain a mentor for him? "No I never had any mentors." The story is almost too simple. As a first-year student at St Pat's, O Muircheartaigh and several of his peers arrived at Croke Park and in turn had five or six minutes to impress by commentating on a club match. "I was given a second go, so I must have done alright," he recalls. His first match commentary was in March 1949, "and I've liked it from the moment I started". As for his style, he says: "I describe what I see. In a dull match, that could include the crowd or the weather. The main thing is describing what you see."
Is he ever nervous before a match? "Not nervous but I am in a state of anticipation. I go there to do a job but I am also there as a supporter. If I was not in the commentary box, if I didn't have the job, I would still be there as a follower. I love being part of it and knowing that I am bringing the match to people who can't be there - particularly now that it's worldwide and people are listening in foreign countries. I've been in Australia and had people come up to me and talk about a match they've heard. I feel privileged."
For him, it has never lost its novelty. Although it seems unlikely, one can't helping asking if his verbal flow of observation, fact and anecdote has ever let him down during a match commentary. "I can't say I recall that ever happening."
In spite of drug scandals, commercialism and the relentless professionalism of sport, it remains beautiful and dramatic, the theatre of the people and one of the few aspects of life guaranteed to incite passion, anger, regret and joy - often simultaneously. None of these emotions dominates the impassive demeanour of O Muircheartaigh who, though obviously a highly motivated individual, is poker-faced and non-confrontational.
When asked if he has ever been irritated by the, at times, patronising attitude some city people hold towards the GAA, he replies: "I've never really been aware of that. It's never bothered me, it's not the sort of thing I would take seriously." Nor has the once traditional city/country divide ever meant much to him. As far as he is concerned, the success of Gaelic games is evident by its ability to transcend all social barriers. Equally the Irish language is enjoying a new popularity.
As chairman of Bord Na Gaeilge, he is closely involved with the language on a daily basis, while he also visits the US's all-Irish schools in his capacity as chairman of Gaelscoileanna, and is on the board of Colaiste Ide in Dingle, Ireland's only all-Irish boarding school for girls.
"In the 1970s there were only 14 all-Irish schools in the country. Now there are well over 100. There is a very positive attitude towards the language now. People want to speak it." Last month he was presented with an honorary doctorate by NUI, Galway. Part of the citation referred to his extraordinary knowledge of the GAA, which was illustrated by his once having listed off the name of all the players featuring in a final in the 1920s. This grasp of fact is true of his conversation, in which he is more inclined to offer information without the adornment of a commentary.
Having watched for more than 50 years, who are the great players? Christy Ring, the Cork hurler whose career spanned the late 1930s into the 1960s, is the first nomination, followed by John Doyle of Tipperary. He also praises the Galway footballer Sean Purcell, Kerryman Mick O'Connell and Dubliner Kevin Moran. Mention of Moran, and the impression his fitness made at Manchester United, leads O Muircheartaigh to the subject of fitness. Gaelic players are known for this, all the more impressive considering they are amateurs.
"Professionalism in sport has meant higher levels of fitness and playing standards. But there are down sides. Look at international athletics in Ireland. I can remember seeing Herb Elliott set a world record in Santry on a night when five of the men finished under four minutes. We can't have athletics in Ireland like that now, because no-one can afford to bring the athletes in." Speaking about the great players of the past, he enjoys the fact that many of them have taken to golf: "It's a great way of keeping in contact. Before they would just disappear after their playing days were over." The current generation offers rich hurling talent, such as Kilkenny's D.J. Carey and Offaly's Brian Whelahan - certainly he has no fears for the future of GAA.
On Sunday, Kerry and Cork meet in the Munster football final and, although he says the football is "very open", whereas the hurling title appears to be destined for Kilkenny, he believes the team which emerges from Sunday's game should be favourites for this year's All-Ireland. "The winner of that match will take a lot of beating." Meath take note.
