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Red hand and a red mist as Brennan furore shows rugby's darker side
Fingers will be pointed at Ulster supporters after the incident in Toulouse
Brendan Fanning
Wednesday January 24, 2007
The Guardian
Even before meat was added to the bones of Brennanbait, the goading of Toulouse's most celebrated publican, it was not hard to picture the scene. Why would Trevor Brennan have been a target for the Ulster fans? For a few reasons: he is a high-profile figure with a history of being blinded by red mist; and he is Irish. Better still, he is from the south of Ireland.
It figured that the sectarian angle would feature early in the equation, even if it was quickly shrugged off by Brennan himself, who maintains that the abuse he suffered in Toulouse's Heineken Cup match against Ulster on Sunday was about his mother. The Ulster fans have earned something of a reputation for themselves.
On the one hand this is positive. They are the most loyal in the land and were pouring through the gates of Ravenhill for Celtic League matches while their more celebrated brethren in Munster were cherry-picking Heineken Cup games. So while the 'Low Lies' - as the casual fans in Munster are known (they occasionally come and sing about the Fields of Athenry) - were being selective, the sons of Ulster were marching without question to support the team that represented their identity. Unlike Munster, Leinster or Connacht, for Ulster there is a political dimension.
This was best illustrated by Davy Tweed. Ireland has four provinces feeding into the national team, with one of them doing so from outside the jurisdiction. It is unlikely they would ever refer to Ireland as being the "national team". And certainly not Big Davy. The Ulster second-row, now a DUP councillor in Ballymena, won three caps for Ireland in the mid-1990s, and his first, against France in 1995, was in Dublin. That meant standing to attention for Amhrán na bhFiann, the national anthem of the Republic.
In fairness he did not move a muscle though, as binoculars were trained on him, we wondered what was going through his mind. The quote attributed to him on learning of his first cap was: "After 30 caps for my country [Ulster] I've been selected to play for Ireland!"
Countless Ulster players before and after Tweed have had to endure the same ritual, though when the shoe is on the other foot in August, when Ireland play a warm-up game against Italy in Belfast, the only song getting an airing will be the apolitical, Ireland's Call, a dirge created to cover the gap in the welding job between north and south.
The other side of the Ulster fans' loyal support has been the attraction of a few floating football voters who have abandoned the awfulness of the Irish League in favour of rugby. Typically they would be Loyalists, fans of Linfield or Glentoran, for whom the prospect of a few pints on a Friday night at a packed Ravenhill, watching a winning team, was a whole lot better than what they had following football.
They brought some of the terrace culture with them and it has not been exclusively reserved for visitors. The vitriol that poured on the head coach, Mark McCall, when he was struggling in his early days in the job, was remarkable. The abuse of away teams also exceeds anything one would find in any of the other provincial venues. Last season, as Munster's centre Barry Murphy was being carried by stretcher from the pitch in Ravenhill in obvious agony, having dislocated his ankle and ruptured ligaments, a section of the crowd abused him. Murphy had done nothing to incite such an obnoxious reaction.
Thankfully it has not strayed beyond that small element nor has it come across the fence and on to the pitch in any significant way. Sledging was a part of the game long before it was christened as such and over the years the odd comment has passed in heated moments in inter-provincial matches. The remarkable thing is that it never escalated. It is as if there has been a tacit recognition among all concerned that, without being too precious, rugby was a mechanism for people from different traditions to play with and against each other without losing the plot.
The implications of the Brennan incident are most obvious for him and will cut short the last lap of a career that has thrived since he went to France. Ulster will have to take note as well. Some of their fans could do with observing some of the unwritten rules that have kept things sane for so long.