Sideline Cut: As the dust settles on the latest International Rules disaster, the no-bluster words of Kevin Sheedy, legendary "footie" coach, grizzled "Nam" vet and no sufferer of fools, should be ringing in our ears: "You are the greatest conmen I have ever met."

The big guy was ostensibly talking to the bunch of native scribblers who questioned the Australian tactics and general climate of violence about Croke Park last Sunday in what was generally reported as a tense and rancorous post-match press conference.

Yet again, Oz won the series and, yet again, Paddy came armed with whimpers of complaint, allegations of thuggery and explicit hints that if this sort of thing ever - ever, mind - happened again, then Paddy was going to take his football home and let nobody else play with it.

It was easy to understand why the Australians were bemused and irritated. The sight of Seán Boylan, so clearly agitated by what he had to participate in last Sunday, made emotional viewing for many Irish people who have come to admire and respect the Dunboyne man for his work in Gaelic games over three decades. Boylan brought to the white heat of the football championship the herbalist's serenity and the holy man's good words and, as he vouched in an emotional interview on Sunday evening, he was never a man to lose in bad grace.

Sheedy, of course, was somewhat indifferent to Boylan's protests and pointed out that, like most managers, the Irishman smiled when he won and got grumpy when he lost. This interpretation was treated as something of an insult. No, no, came the howls of indignation. You, sir, do not know Seán Boylan. The man has always transcended the mere emotional pull of victory and defeat. The man is a healer.

The complaints were lost on Sheedy. Because the point is, the Essendon man does not know Boylan and probably doesn't give two hoots about what he has achieved and what he represents in this country.

Which is not to say he does not respect him or, if the two sat down for dinner in Dunboyne, Boylan presiding over the beef and making wicked quips about the carving knife, they would not find they held a similar world view and sense of humour, enjoy a great night's conversation and strike up a firm friendship. But that did not happen, and to Sheedy, Boylan was simply the small, muscular, fast-talking man in charge of the Paddies. Sheedy simply has no real knowledge of Gaelic games culture.

The lack of empathy and understanding between the godfathers of this year's International Rules illuminated the secondary problem (the primary stumbling block being that the sport is a dud) of this fascinatingly bad experiment.

This game is based upon a number of rudimentary traits both codes share. But it has to be obvious to everyone now that both sets of players are simply hardwired differently when it comes to what counts as fair play on the field. The sensation of being blind-tackled, swung and slung to the ground while in possession is not one the Irish players can mentally adapt to over a few weeks of training.

The needling and slyer indiscretions common in Gaelic games - a stray foot here, coming in late with the knees there - are incendiary to the Australians. And unlike in the rows that erupt in Gaelic games, there is no shaping with the Aussies; they wallop.

Between the first and second Tests, much opinion was expressed in pubs, on radio and in print that was less than flattering to the visiting team, comparing them to thugs. It was insulting to the Australian team and supporters. It seems daft to brand an entire squad - whose players none of us personally know - a bunch of roughnecks.

On any big sports team, chances are you will encounter one or two natural-born villains, the same as in any walk of life. But it is equally likely you will meet several eminently likeable and fair and sporting people. Maybe the Australians did introduce the menace and violence that made Nickey Brennan go pale and quiet last Sunday. But it is hard to remember one event or word or gesture from Ireland, be that from the Rules team or the country in general, that would have made the Australians feel appreciated or truly respected or that they had been treated to the fabled Irish welcome.

The enduring image of this series - perhaps the closing image - will be that of Danyle Pearce rendering Graham Geraghty unconscious with a tackle that can be interpreted as legitimate. If the tackle was fair, it gives further reason to end this game.

Pearce is the smallest of this Australian team. Imagine if Geraghty were propelled to the turf with the weight of someone like Barry Hall driving him earthward.

The Australians are stronger and faster than the Irish. They are the elite pick for a tough game in a land of 20 million people. Their strongest football men will always be stronger than Ireland's. There is no shame in that. But it means that in this exhibition game, for which players cannot develop a natural feel, the prospect of a player getting seriously hurt or worse is never far away.

Could the GAA people responsible for the future of this series live with the moral repercussions if something unthinkable did come to pass? Whatever about the Australian motivation for continuing with this affair - and there were calls in the Australian press this week for an official clarification that this Rules trip is, in fact, an AFL-sanctioned knees-up and junket with a couple of games thrown in - the Irish interest has always been based upon a desire for an international dimension. And it should always be acknowledged that the honour and bravery with which players past and present have represented Ireland is deserving of respect.

But that is compromised by the nagging - and widening - suspicion that the compromise game is simply not worthy of their commitment. And maybe the GAA should be secure enough now not to need this phony international profile.

Because the truth is the GAA has had an audience spanning the oceans from its early days. Stand outside The Kells of Boston on the morning of an All-Ireland hurling final and try claiming the games do no matter abroad. Hurling and football will never dominate the globe but the best way to spread them is to treat the development of foreign GAA clubs as a serious, long-term project. The International Rules has been tried and tested. And it has failed.

The reason why Gaelic games continue to matter here comes down to people and place. We know Seán Boylan and where he comes from and it matters to us. It cannot matter to Kevin Sheedy. His ancestors left this country over a century ago and he has his own loyalties and his own philosophy, all informed by his life in and love of Australia.

They say the Australians and the Irish get on famously. The way the International Rules is going, it would eventually poison that camaraderie.

It is time to bow out. Anything else and we are only conning ourselves.