Tyrants at the Gate need to be called out and dealt with strongly, One champion to fall in the SHC? Loughmore Castleiney’s mission.
By Noel Dundon
It is a sad state of affairs when the proud Tipperary County GAA Board is forced to raise its voice and issue a public warning to supporters about their conduct at the gates of our games. Yet, here we are. On the eve of a hectic championship season, a shadow has been cast over the gates of our pitches — the very thresholds where passion and community spirit should be most alive.
The humble gate checkers, those steadfast sentinels of our games, have found themselves on the receiving end of torrents of abuse, venomous words hurled their way simply for doing their job. Picture the scene: a supporter arrives, empty-handed — no season ticket, no printout of their online purchase — and insists on paying cash, despite the well-known fact that GAA games in Tipperary have long since gone cashless.
The gate keeper, with patience and politeness, explains the system: tickets online, or a quick tap of the bank card. And that is the spark — a small match struck — that ignites a blaze of temper, bitterness, insult.
Let’s be clear: the vast majority of supporters are exemplary. They come with their tickets ready, their cards at hand, and they pass through with smiles, handshakes, and good wishes. A few chancers will test their luck, feigning innocence until the moment comes when the card magically appears from the pocket. But then, there is a darker minority — those with no ticket, no intention of paying, and no shame in unleashing scorn upon volunteers who are simply protecting the gate.
These are the ones the Board has rightly called out, for their behaviour corrodes the very heart of what the GAA stands for.
We must remember: gate checkers are volunteers. They brave the wind and the rain, they turn up at every ground, every night, with little to gain but the satisfaction of giving something back to their club and county. Sure they get a few bob, but now, some now approach their duties with a knot in their stomachs, fearful of the next wave of hostility that might come their way.
This is utterly unacceptable. Nobody — nobody — should be made to feel afraid while fulfilling a role of service to their Association. Shame, deep shame, on those who think otherwise.
Would these same abusers berate an usher at a concert? Would they spit insults at a nightclub doorman, a cinema attendant, or a publican at the bar? No — because they would not dare. So why then is it considered acceptable at a GAA ground, where the people at the gates are not full professionals paid for their troubles, but neighbours and friends volunteering their time?
The gall of it is staggering. And more troubling still, one club in the county has earned itself an unenviable reputation for its supporters’ disgraceful conduct at the turnstiles.
The problem has grown knottier still in recent years, as GAA grounds have become multi-purpose community hubs, with gyms, walking tracks, and playgrounds. Gate checkers are now forced to judge whether someone is genuinely heading for a stroll, or merely spinning a tale to slip into the match for free. It is an impossible task, and yet another burden for those who already give so much.
The County Board has sounded the alarm, and rightly so. Let us hope this warning is not only heard but taken to heart. The gates of our pitches should never be battlegrounds of abuse and hostility. They should be welcoming arches into evenings of sport, passion, and community pride. Respect the gatecheckers. Respect the games. And let us ensure that the only roars to be heard in Tipperary are those of encouragement from the stands, not venom at the gates.
Three hot prelims’ for decision in the hurling campaign.
This past week has ushered in a fresh twist to the hurling championships at every grade — the pitches are softer, the conditions heavier, and the sliothar no longer skims off the turf with the same zip and bite. The very rhythm of the game is shifting, and with it, the destiny of teams chasing glory. That shift will be felt immediately in the senior preliminaries next weekend: JK Brackens locking horns with Toomevara; Kilruane MacDonagh’s clashing with Kiladangan; and Drom-Inch battling Clonoulty Rossmore.
The signs were already there last weekend. Winning primary possession has become the golden ticket — the moment everything pivots. Forwards once had the upper hand: snatch the sliothar first and you were halfway home. But now, when the ball drops and sticks, defenders can swarm, spoil, ruck, and wrestle. The turf gives them teeth, and the attacker’s path, once clean and clear, is now littered with hurdles as stud and sod conspire to slow the burst for daylight.
The question now is simple yet tantalising: who will bend most quickly to the autumn’s demands? The three divisional champs stand at the crossroads with their precious preliminary quarter-final passes in hand. But are they trading them in for progress or for downfall? The odds whisper that at least one will stumble. The only mystery: which proud banner will fall?
And while hurling’s drama grips the stage, football has its own story unfolding. Loughmore-Castleiney —relentless, resilient, remarkable -continue to blaze unbeaten through the round-robin, as they did in hurling. Dare we say it? Could they be on the cusp of an unprecedented back-to-back double in both codes? It sounds outrageous, fanciful even. And yet — this is Loughmore-Castleiney. A club that thrives on turning the improbable into living, breathing fact. Watch this space.