JUST OVER A WEEK ago, the world’s most notorious Dubliner Conor McGregor “made history“ when he became the first ever fighter in the UFC to hold two world titles in two different weight classes simultaneously.
This garnered a seismic reaction from international mixed martial arts fans. For example, Joe Rogan, the most prominent commentator on what is the fastest growing sport in the world, described this incredible feat as “magical”. Rogan asserted that McGregor’s unique achievement was “undeniable”. Yet here in Ireland, the reaction was often more condemnatory than celebratory.
The Irish media play down McGregor’s achievements
Ray D’Arcy said that although he recognised the athletic prowess involved, he couldn’t quite bring himself to congratulate McGregor because MMA is “barbarous”. The reporter sent by The Irish Times to view the fight at New York’s prestigious Madison Square Gardens went much further.
In a snide article, the correspondent actively insulted our new double-champ. “After some theatrics, that bauble [the second belt] was produced. He [McGregor] clambered up on to the edge of the octagon, gurning.”
The same journalist went on to sneer that the belts on each of McGregor’s shoulders were “to match his chips”.
It is inconceivable that such language would be used towards any other Irish sports personality who had just achieved a historic world first. But dismissing (and even insulting MMA) is not a new phenomenon in Ireland, nor is it confined to the media.
Senator Ivana Bacik (using the same “barbarous” term as D’Arcy), has suggested she’d be in favour of banning MMA altogether. Fine Gael’s Michael Ring expressed “grave concerns” about the sport, and admitted actively disliking it – despite the fact he was serving as Junior Sports Minister at the time.
Boxing is more brutal than MMA
People, of course, are entitled not only to their opinions, but to their sensibilities. And many find MMA distasteful. However, the reasons cited for such verdicts fall to pieces under the most gentle examination. The danger? Motorbike racing is a pursuit much more likely to end in a fatality. The violence? This “violence” occurs between consenting – and professional – adults in a highly controlled environment.
Boxing is a much more brutal form of fight sport, in which opponents bludgeon each other about the head and body for the entire duration of the bout. Yet Katie Taylor, for example is a media sensation, uniformly applauded for her achievements. What is more galling but perhaps less obvious, is the starkly different attitude towards the most high status sport in the country: rugby.
As the acclaimed social psychologist Jonathan Haidt puts it, “sport is to war as pornography is to sex.” Rugby is the epitome of this idea. The game gained favour in the private schools of the elite specifically and explicitly as a means of preparing the upper-classes to wage war. This is not an abstraction.
The day after the McGregor fight was Remembrance Sunday. During the First World War “pals battalions” transferred the personnel of sports clubs directly into the British army. Then president of the IRFU, FH Browning, himself made a public appeal for recruits which resulted in 220 young Irish men “from the better private schools from the southside of Dublin” signing up at Lansdowne Road. This led to the formation of “D Company” of the 7th Battalion of Royal Dublin Fusiliers. Those young men were slaughtered in droves. Only three out of every 10 came home alive. The company suffered a staggering 70% casualty rate.
Rugby’s aim is to overpower opponents too
Perhaps you think the modern game of rugby, despite such a bloodthirsty past, is of little relevance to the discussion of violence today? Remember that the ball is just a prop (pardon the pun). The aim is to physically dominate and overpower the opposing team, to break through their defences, to “beat them”.
Just listen to the language used by commentators on the recent Ireland v Canada match.
These are not metaphors – the collisions and impacts in the game of rugby involve many times the force of MMA. Two athletes grappling in the octagon is objectionable, but opposing teams of 15 men, each bred for size and strength, running the length of a field to build momentum before crashing into each other is not?
Some would suggest that MMA encourages violence. I would counter that it teaches stamina, confidence, and determination. It offers an outlet for working-class young men in particular, who have not had the advantages of a private education, who do not have access to expensive equipment or facilities, and who come from fractured and deprived communities.
MMA diverts the frustration and aggression that results from these conditions into a sport that demands an incredibly high level of health and fitness, not to mention unwavering personal discipline. What does rugby teach young men?
Rugby demands no less aggression than MMA. Furthermore, like most team sports, it demands the adoption of a herd mentality. It fosters tribal affiliations that speak to some of our most primitive instincts. This is a very serious matter when this mindset is being inculcated in the elite – those who will go on to hold power in this country.
The upper echelons of our banking and financial services sectors, for example, are overwhelmingly populated by former attendees of Dublin’s private schools. What part might the “close ranks” mentality learned on the rugby pitches of Belvedere, Clongowes, Belfield or Trinity have played in the fact nobody blew the whistle on the massive systemic corruption that destroyed this country’s economy?
Lest anyone think I’m denigrating one of the nation’s most beloved pursuits – I’m not. At all. I dislike the class connotations that goes with a lot of rugby culture personally, but if people derive pleasure from it, or any other activity that occurs between consenting adults, I think it should be valued. I’m just pointing out the glaring hypocrisy in attitudes towards the two sports among the media and politicians.
This is a class issue
Personalities like Brian O’Driscoll are doyens of our establishment and media, but there is no automatic civic receptions for McGregor, no open-top bus laid on, Merrion Square is not to be closed off, when he brings home not one, but two, world titles.
Conversely, Fine Gael ministers do not solemnly announce their disgust at a sport when schools rugby, for example, takes young lives through second-impact syndrome. If we are going to express concerns about the dangers of individual sports and their culture of violence we need to widen the net. People have had enough of double standards in this country.
But perhaps it is not the violence, not the brutality, but in fact McGregor’s trademark machismo, arrogance, and braggadocio which pundits find objectionable? His narcissistic, contrarian individualism. Two words: Muhammad Ali. Ali has been deified worldwide despite an unapologetic boastfulness that makes McGregor seem like a demure wallflower in comparison.
Could it be that the marginalisation of MMA and McGregor by some commentators has nothing to do with danger OR violence OR his demeanour. Might it have something to do with class?
Maybe the establishment are simply comfortable supporting the group violence of the elite, while despising individualistic violence from the working-class. All the more so when it comes from confident and powerful adversaries like McGregor.
Frankie Gaffney came of age in Dublin’s North Inner-City. His controversial novel, Dublin Seven, was published to critical acclaim last year.
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