AIDAN O’Rourke found himself in the eye of two storms over the past couple of seasons. One was in Down, in 2022, and the other was in Donegal earlier this year.
In an in-depth interview with Armagh’s All-Ireland winning defender, appearing in Saturday's edition of The Irish News, we spent a couple of hours talking about his lousy timing in some of his more recent postings, among so much other stuff.
The great thing about interviewing people like O’Rourke is that the conversation – or indeed GAA discourse – can shoot off in any direction.
The sad thing is so much of the interview can end up on the cutting room floor because you just can’t squeeze everything into two pages.
We talked about the changing face of GAA dressing rooms and trying to locate leadership in the modern game.
He doesn't hanker after his playing days and embraces everything about Gaelic football in its current form.
I argued - not with any great force or articulacy – that there were more leaders during O’Rourke’s playing days than there are in today’s game.
The Armagh and Tyrone teams of the ‘Noughties’ had leaders – great decision-makers – in every sector of the field.
“There’s a societal shift that has influenced that,” O’Rourke notes.
“It is very difficult to incubate leadership because youngsters get so much now. You go to county development or minor squads, there is GPS, nutrition, S&C, everything is wrapped around them.
“Every step they take more and more is wrapped around them – expertise, advice, best practice – and they don’t have to think too much about it.
“It’s a case of: ‘What’s next?’ There is a lack of stripped back feedback. Society takes the sharp edges off criticism or negative feedback, which is fine.
“They’ve been told: ‘You’re doing brilliant…’ and then suddenly to be told: ‘Nah, you’re nowhere near it.’
“That’s a shock to people’s systems, so you almost have to break people down to bring them back up again.”
While watching footage of his father’s games back in the 'Noughties', O’Rourke’s son mentioned that it was “ridiculous” how often they gave the ball away.
“It was ridiculous,” O’Rourke laughed. “That’s just the way the game was at the time. It wasn’t that big of a failing to give the ball away. Whereas now it’s fatal.”
Nowadays, Gaelic football is coached to the ‘nth degree but it doesn’t mean refinement makes it a better spectacle.
And it also brings into question whether the prevailing coaching practices of the day nurture leadership.
For instance, some of the ridiculous angles Stevie McDonnell and Stevie O’Neill used to shoot from would be banned on the training field today.
Modern players are encouraged to work the percentages and take less risks.
Maybe it's football in smarter form.
Some critics would argue Gaelic football has become a poor spectacle and produces fewer leaders than previous generations.
I’d argue the game is overcoached.
O’Rourke, however, has more faith in the coaching practices of the modern game.
Indeed, ‘overcoaching’ is a term that doesn’t sit easily with the Dromintee man.
For around 20 minutes or more, we discussed a point scored by Cargin’s James Laverty in their county semi-final win over St Brigid’s in rain drenched Dunsilly a couple of weeks earlier.
With the defending champions trailing by a few points and on the cusp of exiting the competition, Laverty took it upon himself to strike the ball with his weaker left foot to score.
Laverty, a defender, is a throwback to a time when players took the bull by the horns. His score that afternoon displayed leadership and an inner confidence.
As soon as he converted the chance to breathe new life into Cargin’s challenge, I wondered how many younger players, perhaps coached in a more nuanced way, would have even attempted the shot.
I’d imagine a lot of them would have fisted the ball off to a team-mate with the hope of a better opening presenting itself. Always working the percentages and trying to get the shooters on the loop.
Laverty, though, short-circuited the process.
“The nuance of coaching is individuality here,” O’Rourke said.
“One size doesn't fit all. I see this all the time with kids, and you have to be subtle because you can’t say to a 14 or a 15-year-old: ‘You are not allowed to shoot because you can’t kick the ball over the bar.’
“That’s not how you deliver it. You give them shots from different angles from different distances and afterwards you ask them: ‘Where are you seven-out-of-10 from?
“Where are you eight-out-of-10 from?’ And then you start having conversations about: ‘So where do you shoot during the match then? Where is the high percentage of shots for you?'
“'What happens if you’re in one of these low percentage areas to shoot? What are you going to do? What are your options?’
“You start making them think about it where you should shoot from? Then, you might say: ‘Why is our corner-back having to take that shot? Why are you not on the loop? Why are you letting a corner-back take a low percentage shot?’
“In that way, you’re coaching them all, but you’re reinforcing to the finisher: ‘You’re the man for the shot.’ And when they’re in a game situation, they know: ‘I’m the man for the shot here.’
“None of that is negative – it’s just coaching decision-making.”
Rather than lump every risk-averse action into a catch-all category of ‘overcoaching’, O’Rourke persuasively argues that this is more “restrictive, prohibitive coaching which serves the God of gameplan”.
In other words, there is a significant difference.
Coaches, by definition, are perpetually invigorated by trends. They view the game through a different, more forensic lens than, say, those who stand behind the wire and want to be entertained a little more.
Perhaps there’s a trade-off going on between the refinement of Gaelic football and some leadership and aesthetics.
But the game still needs the rogue footballer - somebody who’s not always on-message with the gameplan and who just might short-circuit the process and win you a game by courageous decision-making.
He might also shank the ball wide of the posts.
The talking points are never-ending…
