Men like Diarmuid Connolly are typecast early and often in the sporting world writes Peter McNamara.
They are your stereotypical Marmite characters.
For every person that views him as a footballing genius there is another of the opinion Connolly is a ‘classless so and so’.
Of course, the latter judgement is harsh in the extreme.
Yet, the cold facts are some picture him, full stop, as a hot-headed, tactless individual we all see standing in front of a referee too often. And, what’s more, they struggle to see beyond the Connolly that teeters on the edge regularly.
Even I look at him sometimes thinking: ‘Will this leopard ever change its spots? For the love of God Diarmuid would you just cop yourself on already. Let your football do your bidding’.
It’s a vicious cycle with the St Vincent’s man. He gets in bother on the pitch. It’s splashed all over the back pages the next morning. He then, therefore, is not a huge fan of the Fourth Estate. And because of all of that the public know little of Diarmuid Connolly, the character.
That’s a shame as based on the really rare occasion he allows a mic to be put before him Connolly illustrates the vast array of charisma that all of our marketable players should possess in order for youngsters to take notice of their contributions.
There are not near enough box office characters within our Association.
If there are, we’re not privy to such a pleasantry.
The ones we do have should not feel marginalised due to the perceptions that surrounds them.
Does Connolly shape those negative perceptions himself? He obviously has a massive hand to play.
However, if we break that cycle of mistrust existing between Connolly, the media and the public maybe we’ll get to see more of the character that lit up Croke Park with his post-match thoughts to Marty Morrissey last Saturday.
Connolly was articulate, witty and genuine in the short breath Morrissey got with him.
You thought: ‘Here’s a guy that could pitch the importance of the GAA to a bunch of Eskimos and get a few conversions’.
And yet, Connolly remains somewhat of an enigma. Maybe he likes it that way.
Nevertheless, even in those few moments he did not scream of the sort truly averse to relaying his thoughts to a large audience.
In fact, he spoke exceptionally, it must be said while being courteous to Mayo, who we’ll get to later.
Connolly is the kinda hit newspapers will queue up to sign when he retires from the inter-county scene in years to come.
In the interim, though, isn’t it a pity Connolly, among countless other players throughout the Association, are like figments of our imagination away from the stadia on match-days?
Obviously, their private lives are not included in that thought-process.
Yet, hearing them speak more on the game itself even would be a start.
Prior to the drawn All-Ireland final Connolly was driving a football across the Liffey, as you do.
He could be another face for kids to look up to, he clearly possesses the footballing qualities.
And it’s becoming more evident he also possesses the character.
Yes, he needs to work on his temperament. Big-time, some will attest.
And still, Connolly, the character, has so much more to offer the GAA.
Philly McMahon was vilified after the 2015 All-Ireland final following that eye-gouging incident with Kieran Donaghy.
McMahon got hammered on social media and in the mainstream media. Correctly, too.
Nevertheless, he is presently utilising his expanding reach as he put it, as a “role medal”, to tackle the narcotics issues in areas of Dublin.
He has developed a profile, appreciates and embraces the concept and is utilising it in positive terms.
That is extremely admirable of the Ballymun Kickhams player.
Connolly could also manipulate his reputation to his and others’ benefit.
He could well be already doing so. Yet, how would we know?
Some will argue Connolly’s a very private person.
However, judging on his social media presence and banter-filled posts, I find that hard to believe.
Therefore, Connolly and others should be allowed to express themselves more throughout the GAA seasons without concern that every syllable they utter is scrutinised to the nth degree.
Dubliners might be aware of Connolly and more about his persona.
Nationally, though, aside from two magical feet, his attributes are lost on most.
It would be a welcome development in 2017 if Connolly’s voice was heard more in the public domain.
Ciarán McDonald was another man that would have brightened up the Association via a deep-thinking, comical soul.
His appearance on Second Captains proved this.
The difference, however, between McDonald and Connolly is that the former individual genuinely is a private person that opts to shun the limelight.
Connolly does not naturally fall into this bracket and will hopefully feel that he can be more available to discuss the code and the joy he finds in it more often.
And that sentiment applies to other players that choose to avoid interacting for fear of misinterpretation of their thoughts and personality.
Just a brief word on Mayo.
The sympathy they are getting for missing out on silverware yet again is borderline cringeworthy.
Furthermore, I am not too sure Stephen Rochford and his players will thank people for the patronising pats on the backs their receiving, either, particularly from their own supporters.
The reality is it is getting increasingly difficult to empathise with the westerners.
After all, how many opportunities does this team require to lift Sam?
Cork, for example, prior to their All-Ireland title success in 2010, were lambasted constantly for failing to get over the line up until that point.
And yet, Mayo are showered with praise for their efforts despite falling shy of their goal once more.
It reeks of double-standards.
It’s gotten to the point whereby the chase seems more enthralling for their supporters, in particular, than actually witnessing the side grab the prize.
It’s bizarre when you think about it.
