[size=14pt]Kevin Myers: IRFU greed has no bounds -- unlike its new stadium[/size]
By Kevin Myers
Friday November 05 2010
There'll probably be empty seats tomorrow in the 50,000-seater stadium at Lansdowne Road for the visit of South Africa, the rugby world champions, whereas the last time they came here -- to Croke Park -- they attracted 75,000 spectators: all in all, a suitable commentary on the magnificent organisational skills of the Irish Rugby Football Union.
For connoisseurs of the IRFU, the debacle of the autumn season comes as no surprise. But what lies ahead, as repayments on the colossal loans required to build the smallest new (but incredibly expensive) international stadium in the world fall due, and if rugby fans refuse to pay the high ticket prices required to fund those payments?
Some 13 years ago, after I'd written a column about the appalling conditions of the old Lansdowne Road -- the absence of decent toilets or proper refreshments for spectators, and the hazards of the terraces -- something strange happened.
As a columnist, and regular commentator on rugby matters, I had unfailingly got tickets for the press-box.
But after that particular column, tickets arrived for various non-writing editors within 'The Irish Times' -- but now there was no ticket for me. I was banished: that's how the lords of irfu treated critics.
Moreover, I once -- by chance -- got a glimpse of the culture that had produced a stadium where the hoi polloi couldn't get food or a decent lavatory, or today, has created the fiasco of the new ground. A well-connected friend took me to the irfu hospitality area after an international, where a splendid dinner and a night-long free-bar was laid on for the hundreds of irfu alickadoos.
How they must have hated going to Croke Park. How they must have loathed crossing the Liffey.
How they must have detested their exile from Dublin 4, amidst the citizenry of Dublin 3.
Was it any wonder that the lords of irfu preferred to build a ridiculously small stadium at Lansdowne Road, rather than to open serious negotiations with the Government and with the GAA to make Croke Park the one venue for all football fixtures?
The combined resources of the GAA, the FAI and the irfu could have created a 100,000-seater super-stadium. But instead, the lords of irfu settled for an almost studio-sized ground at their old haunt on Lansdowne Road: with not the 83,000 spectators at the present Croke Park -- which was filled for every home international including Italy -- and certainly not the 100,000 of some future all-code Croke Park, but with just 50,000.
Which other sporting organisation in the entire world has built a stadium that is known to be 30,000 seats below market demand?
Where else would one find such wonderminds and Einsteins who could manage to conjure the possibility financial failure out of the Golconda of Irish rugby, save in the hallowed halls of irfuland?
Moreover, we now have three venues competing for large-scale non-sporting functions: the two football grounds and the national conference centre, all cutting one another's throats.
Dublin should be competing with Birmingham, Liverpool and Glasgow for international events, and two rival venues in the capital -- one football-ground and a conference centre -- would have kept everyone here on their toes. Three is simply blood on the floor.
Will irfu default on their loans? Well, they'll certainly be running into serious trouble if they can't sell tickets at the high prices required to keep the banks happy.
Moreover, under the skilful guidance of its president John Delaney (annual salary, over €400,000 pa), the finances of their partners in Lansdowne Road, the Football Association of Ireland, must now nearly resemble those of Pyongyang, though, naturally, without the World Cup soccer team.
One possible outcome to this catastrophe is that a foreign consortium will agree to take over the debts of Lansdowne Road, provided they get precisely the kind of generous planning permission that the residents of Lansdowne Road were originally opposed to.
(The latter's victory should, of course, have caused irfu to have sold the stadium to a developer and left). A new consortium might get the political backing that would make extensive housing development around the stadium inevitable.
The worst-case (and truly nightmare scenario) is for the new stadium to be knocked, and for irfu to be exiled once again to Croke Park, as the entire area is developed for high-rise offices and blocks of low-rent flats, to clear an otherwise insupportable debt.
Either way, Lansdowne Road, with its absurd new name, is an allegory of all the idiocy, greed, small-mindedness and the sheer bloody stupidity that has brought this country to sup at the muddy pool of shame and insolvency: the Dimland of Ireland alongside the Kimland of Korea, and the Zimland of Mugabe.
However, I've said many times that we can get out of this mess, but we can only do so by being adult. An enormous price must be paid, and colossal damage stoically accepted.
The land that will emerge from this horror story will certainly not be recognisable; and one of the likely casualties, laid low for their pomp, their vanity and their refusal to recognise business realities, will be the lords of irfu.