Eimear Ryan: The future of our sporting spectrum looks bright

We engaged in some generic banter with them, and all seemed peachy until the fellow sitting just over my right shoulder exploded in rage at something a Liverpool player had done, or possibly neglected to do. After he’d unleashed a string of verbals into my right ear, I turned and gave him a look.

"Alright, simmer down," I said. He looked dumbfounded. "What? I told you I was a passionate fan," he responded indignantly. What, indeed. 

One man’s passion is another man’s temper tantrum – or indeed, another woman’s ringing eardrum. Sport performs many social functions, and giving older gents an outlet for their scorn is absolutely one of them. 

Better that he yells at the millionaire on the telly than at anyone in his actual circle. But it still makes the environment that bit less hospitable to everyone else.

Cut to the Aviva last Friday night, as the Ireland women faced Sweden in their ongoing attempts to garner a point (or even a goal) in League A of the Euro qualifiers. I couldn’t help but compare the atmosphere in the stadium with the sky-high blood-pressure vibes of the pub weeks prior. 

The women sitting behind me at the Aviva were chatty and knowledgeable, sharing updates about injuries and players’ form at their various clubs and gossipy tidbits gleaned from the squad members’ social media accounts. 

They raised their voices to shout on the players by name but I never heard any yelled criticism.

You’d be hard-pressed to find a more chill and relaxing sporting environment. I was distinctly reminded of the blissful atmosphere of a minor league baseball game I attended in Coney Island a couple of summers ago, but also of GAA matches – though the pace is more frantic, they tend to be more of a family outing than your average soccer fixture. 

The dynamic between players and fans is key here. GAA players, and female footballers, are generally not as insulated from the hoi polloi as Premier League stars, who are nearly dehumanised by the sheer amount of money they’re paid. We’re more inclined to forgive an error from our local hero or heroine, less likely to denounce them as having boots of clay.

Bottom line: fans were at the Aviva to enjoy themselves, not vent their rage. The glorious evening was part of it, as were the positive attacking aspects of Ireland’s play in the first half. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen so many women, or so many LGBTQ folks, at a sporting event. 

It’s a reminder that sport really is for everyone, if we’re able to provide a welcoming environment. Is it bizarre that we lost 3-0 and yet went home largely happy? It’s not that we don’t care. We care! But we care proportionately. 

Mostly, we are just happy to be there, and determined to have a good time, too.

It’s also not the case that women’s soccer isn’t combative. 

Katie McCabe is always on hand to rattle a ball off an opposition player she thinks is standing too close to her free kick, or to usher off the pitch any player she feels is taking too long to be substituted. The Twitter account ‘Did Katie McCabe get a yellow card today?’ (@yellows4KM15) lovingly keeps track of her on-field scrappiness. 

Anyone who feels that women’s sport is less physical or competitive only needs to look at the new WNBA season which, with its fresh influx of famous rookies like Caitlin Clark and Angel Reese, is providing some of the most entertaining beef seen in any arena this summer.

But there is a different atmosphere at women’s sporting events; it is a different product, and that’s okay. For those of us beating the equality drum for years, constantly thinking about what women’s sport was lacking in comparison to men’s, it’s important to remind ourselves of this. 

The democratisation of sport is a natural result of diversity in wider society, as well as the recent proliferation of new outlets in the streaming and social media era. 

Rather than identifying ourselves as ‘into sports’ or not, it will become more and more relevant to view sporting events as a spectrum of experiences instead of a monolith that you opt in or out of. 

While elite men’s competitions will always command a great deal of attention, other points on the spectrum are not lesser shadows: they’re different flavours.

The under-20 final between Offaly and Tipp was a timely reminder of this. In the best way possible, it was like watching senior intercounty hurling from ten years ago. Amongst the players, there was variation in body type. 

There were not the same patterns of illegal throwing, or of cynical belts off the ball, that mar modern senior hurling. There were no instances of lads taking ten steps and getting away with it because both their arms were being held, and how does a ref even decide which foul came first? 

The senior championship has been thrilling this year, but it’s also been marked with controversy, refereeing errors, and cynical off-the-ball play. Watching the under-20 final, and getting swept up in the emotion of it, was a beautiful respite from all that.

"It’s everything you dream about when you’re a young lad," said the mighty Dan Bourke before accepting the cup on Offaly’s behalf. 

Still plausibly in the ‘young lad’ category, Bourke will most likely feature for Offaly seniors this Saturday in what promises to be a thrilling Joe McDonagh final against Laois. The future of the sporting spectrum looks bright.