Playing the GAA card when it comes to forging a political career can have its disadvantages as well as its advantages, writes Seán Moran

At a time of the year when the games are in hibernation, some leading GAA personalities have been making news outside the sports arena. This week, Wexford hurling manager Tony Dempsey has been selected as a Fianna Fáil candidate for the forthcoming general election. Dublin county chairman John Bailey has been associated with a Fine Gael nomination in Dun Laoghaire. Only two days ago, speculation linked Galway's Michael Donnellan - already a third generation All-Ireland medallist - with maintaining his family's other tradition, representing Galway in Dáil Éireann.

In an election year, it is not surprising to see a profusion of speculation on the subject of candidates. Every political party has a fondness for celebrity. It confers the advantage of profile and recognition, which are otherwise earned in politics only by long years of toil on the ground.

Throughout its own history and that of the State, the GAA has been a steady source of ready-made celebrity that has been exploited for political purposes. In Ireland 1912-1985, Politics and Society, Professor Joe Lee encapsulates the symbiosis between the GAA and national politics.

"The success of the GAA, based on the co-option of intense local loyalties into a wider sense of national identity, reflected a capacity for organisation and a sense of communal coherence. The GAA served not only as a recruiting ground for republican activists, but as an apprenticeship for national organisers. The prevailing culture proved able to relate local loyalties to national issues."

Experience suggests that celebrity acquired at football and hurling is a great starting point but not a guarantee of success. Jimmy Deenihan is currently the highest-ranking former Gaelic games star in politics. Five All-Ireland medals will kick-start any campaign and inasmuch as Deenihan was different from any other big-name player, it was the level of desperation with which Fine Gael turned to him.

Having lost the seat in Kerry North in 1977 - at one stage the only constituency in the country where the party was unrepresented - Fine Gael put a major effort into regaining it. Deenihan's political background was favourable but he had no experience, not having tested himself, like the constituency's other sportsman-turned-parliamentarian, Dick Spring, in the 1979 council elections.

"My father had been associated with the party until he died in 1974," says Deenihan. "I was very much identified with that and had a high profile. I'd broken my leg that summer and couldn't play in the attempt at five-in-a-row, so I wasn't thinking about football as much when I was approached to run. John B Keane, who was a friend of my father's, proposed me and was very influential in persuading the convention.

"I had advantages because the party ran only the one candidate and got behind me. I'd say football was the reason I was nominated, but the reason I got elected was that after losing out by 130 votes, I gave up teaching and football, went into the Senate and worked 16 and 17 hour days to get elected in 1987. If you need a challenge in life as many sportsmen do, politics is something you should enter because it challenges you in every way, intellectually and physically."

He is quick to point out that other famous footballers went forward in the county without success over the years. Con Brosnan, a Free State army officer and high-profile member of Kerry's first four-in-a-row team, 1929-32, ran for Cumann na n Gaedhal in 1932 but narrowly lost. Johnny Walsh, an All-Ireland winner from later in the 1930s, stood unsuccessfully for Clann na Poblachta and one of the greatest of them all, Mick O'Connell, served as an independent county councillor but failed to be elected to the Dáil.

Deenihan's perseverance marked him out as one likely to succeed. For others the experience was interesting, but not everyone was as willing to plan for a long haul. Brian McEniff was successful in getting elected to the county council in Donegal but was more concerned with his brother Sean's concurrent campaign for the European Parliament - which fell short after the intervention of Neil Blaney. He's in no doubt about the power of a GAA background.

"The All-Ireland in '92 would have been a huge advantage to fellas like Anthony Molloy and Martin McHugh, who were mentioned as possible candidates. Donegal was agog with that success and both are very personable people. Back in 1979 the GAA was less of an advantage but still a good one. I stood down in 1981 because I'd started to get involved again with the county team and, anyway, I didn't feel cut out for it. It was more for hardline, career politicians than someone like me with no ambition to be a politician."

This illustrates that celebrity candidates aren't always that politically motivated. Dublin footballer Barney Rock was persuaded by a friend to represent the Progressive Democrats in the 1991 local elections. "I wasn't that interested in a career in politics. I did alright, I was there until the 13th count, but I was never going to go again. If I hadn't given it a go, I might have been asking myself why I didn't. If I'd got elected I might have been able to be Lord Mayor. That would have been a big thing for me. I'm not involved anymore. I'm too busy with children and football."

A less-than-obsessive interest in politics can characterise celebrity candidates but can also cause problems on the trail. Limerick hurling manager Eamonn Cregan, then playing and a party member, was given 10 minutes to agree to act as a sweeper for Fianna Fail in Limerick East where the party was chasing three seats in a new five-seater. At one stage he ended up on a local radio programme.

"Gerry Collins told me to get on the radio so I went on this programme, chaired by Pat Cox (this week elected President of the European Parliament). Michael Noonan (now leader of Fine Gael) zoomed in on me and started firing questions about Fianna Fáil policy. Of course I knew nothing about it. I muttered to Pat Cox 'you'll have to help me out on this' and so he ended up reciting Fianna Fáil policy and covering for me."

Cregan nonetheless enjoyed the experience, even though his wife Anne, pushing a six-month old baby along, spent 15 minutes taking abuse from one constituent while the candidate was helping Limerick defeat Tipperary in the championship. He also found the internal strife common to many running tickets incomprehensible.

"It was a tremendous experience. Meeting people is addictive, although I was promised a lot more votes than I got. I ended up with 1,200, which wasn't bad, and the third seat was lost by a small amount. But I learned in politics that everyone is dispensable."

Few are as dispensable as the by-election candidate who threatens to disturb party equilibrium by winning an extra seat. Padraig Horan captained Offaly to the All-Ireland in 1981 and was selected in 1984 to run against the present Minister for Foreign Affairs Brian Cowen, whose father Ber had died.

A Fine Gael constituency activist, Horan was up against it in a five-seater with a Fianna Fail majority. "I got the same buzz as I got playing in an All-Ireland final," he says. "Brian Cowen, who I'm friendly enough with, had a huge sympathy vote and a very good machine, so I knew from the word go I was up against it. I actually did better in Laois than in Offaly and there was great hurling rivalry between the counties back then. My hurling suffered from the whole campaign because I couldn't mix it with campaigning."

Now involved in county development work as well as hurling, he has left behind his political activism. "There's no time. My wife would leave me out on the road if I took that up again."