The danger of selecting a oneoff match as a representative sample, of arguing from the particular to the general, of concluding that, because one game contained a succession of incidents that neither should have occurred nor . . . Portumna's real gripe, over and above the treatment of Joe Canning . . . should have been allowed to occur, we're all going to hell in a handbasket.

Yet it's equally valid to hold that this wasn't one match, it was Everymatch. It was the Galway county hurling final, but it could as easily have been a hurling or a football final anywhere else in the country. It was a high-profile young player who was walked on (literally) by an opponent and left bruised and battered, but it could as readily have been a less well-known older player. And Loughrea were the team who were the underdogs, but it's not difficult to imagine any other crowd in their position . . . facing the All Ireland champions in a repeat of the previous year's county final in which they'd conceded 3-21 . . . taking the field determined to do whatever it took to turn the tables.

That unpleasant incidents took place, and that the winners were to blame for most of them, is not open to dispute.

"Hard men finally winning the county title the hard way, " was the opening line of John McIntyre's match report in the Connacht Tribune. Though he did declare that Loughrea had been guilty of "naked aggression that transcended legitimate boundaries", McIntyre refrained from using the words 'thuggery' and 'violence'.

Ray Silke, Galway's 1998 All Ireland-winning football captain who was also in attendance, had no qualms about wheeling out the big nouns in his column in the Galway Advertiser. "Thuggery.

Violence. Intimidation.

Viciousness." At least five players should have been sent off, Silke contended. The game, he added, had "little to do with hurling or sportsmanship. It was just warfare.

Sledging of the worst order.

Mean-spirited, cowardly blows were the order of the day." In case you were wondering about the credentials of a 'football man' like Silke, he hurled underage with Sylane . . . and even if he hadn't, he'd still be entitled to his opinion as a spectator.

The headline on his column, incidentally, contained a phrase you'll hear again before this article is finished.

"Games being destroyed by win-at-all-cost mentality."

It was little wonder that Kevin Sheedy, the coach of the Australian visitors, was reported as wearing a "wry smile" next day as he scanned the back page of the Irish Independent, complete with its montage of photos from the Galway county final. "I pick up the paper today and I see a guy stamping on a guy's stomach, another guy is getting his neck wrung off and I said to myself, 'I think this is telling us a story somewhere, '" Sheedy offered. The man had a point. The psychotic Aussies and the pacifist Irish? Scarcely.

Loughrea versus Portumna. The Tyrone/ Dublin NFL match earlier this season. Camross and Castletown continuously fighting the same old battle like members of some military historical re-enactment society. Were he to be time-transported to Croke Park for next Sunday's international rules match, the Daily Telegraph writer who sneered all those years ago at the inception of the GAA that the new organisation would not be antipathetic to those with a taste for agrarian crime would doubtless be amazed at what he'd see. And would doubtless be less than amazed to learn that every so often some members of the organisation behave true to ancient stereotype, like the protagonists of an old Punch cartoon.

Especially at this time of year, it seems. That said, violence on October fields attracts more publicity than violence on June fields, this being the GAA's silly season.

The photos in the national papers of trouble at the recent Meath football final portrayed an inaccurate representation of what had actually transpired (a trivial dust-up that came and went within the space of 10 seconds). As not infrequently happens in these cases, the pictures were livelier and more interesting than the incident.

Both Pat McEnaney and Aodhan MacSuibhne . . . one a current inter-county football referee, the other a recent inter-county hurling referee . . .

believe that the two codes are cleaner and safer than they ever were, certainly at the top level. Watch a video of a typical football match from the early 1990s and it's in many ways unrecognisable, says McEnaney. "The game has improved in so many ways.

Discipline is much better as a result of the introduction of the red and yellow cards and the tickings. The really cynical footballer is gone. There's no place in football for a thug now. He's a liability."

At inter-county level, MacSuibhne points out, discipline operates to a very high standard. "You're dealing with many of the most disciplined athletes in the 32 counties. At club level it's different, obviously, because you've a mixture of highly-skilled guys and guys who aren't as skilled and who lack the same selfcontrol . . . guys who, to try and keep an opponent in check, will willingly use foul means."

If Gaelic games have become more violent, MacSuibhne goes on, that would be no wonder, given that society has become more violent. But the evidence doesn't say so. Nor did a survey of referees in Dublin a while ago, which found that the vast majority of the men in black believed that abuse from players was no worse than it used to be.

Indiscipline arises, according to Liam Moggan, who has worked as a psychologist in a variety of sports, because a coach hasn't taught discipline or demanded it. Where ideally a key objective of any coach would be to teach discipline and develop character, in a consumer-driven environment like ours the development of the person is, Moggan argues, "being shortcutted" by coaches who are allowing themselves to be driven into measuring success in terms of silverware. In other words, it's an obvious byproduct of the win-at-all-costs mentality. "Allow somebody who's a wally to develop as a wally and the walliness will come out. I've seen it across sports at all levels. Once you don't address the walliness, the problem becomes even greater."

What, adds Moggan, who's worked with Ken Doherty for the past five years and is still struck by the "high level of integrity" in snooker and its respect for good behaviour, is success anyway? "Success is seen nowadays in terms of a cup. But winning is a distraction, ultimately even a disappointment. Somebody else will win the All Ireland or the county championship next year. Success passes."

When Roger Bannister's autobiography was republished this year, it contained a chapter in which the author declared that his real achievement in breaking the four-minute mile barrier half a century ago was "the profoundly satisfying effort in thought, will and hard work" that went into it. The triumph lies not in the destination but in the journey.

It's not an attitude that inter-county managers, under pressure to leave a legacy of silverware behind them rather than leave a legacy of rounded individuals, can afford to share or one that their bosses are willing to share. As the aftermath of the Tyrone/Dublin affair demonstrated, county boards as well as teams are only too happy to run away from their responsibilities. Where they should feel embarrassment, they merely feel affronted pride. This mindset isn't likely to disappear any time soon.

One suspects that Liam Mulvihill's consumption of Panadol is reaching dangerous proportions. Every year he bangs his head off the same brick wall in relation to discipline in his report to Congress, to absolutely no effect. This year he gamely tried again, calling for a crusade at all levels aimed at "stamping out the practice of hiding and protecting the wrongdoers" and a change in the culture that "promotes the unit interest to the detriment of the general GAA interest".

The root cause of this chronic indiscipline, in Mulvihill's eyes? The win-atall-costs mentality.

MEN IN BLACK . . . REFEREEING ACROSS CODES DAVE McHUGH Former international referee and Referee Development Officer with the IRFU We're quite fortunate as referees in rugby. The respect shown is quite high because from the inception of the game it's been hammered into people that it's expected of them and there's always been the ability to move people on 10 yards for questioning decisions. That hasn't been available to other sports for the same length and they're now "ghting against the tide. There are also structures there to punish people. There's rarely a referee that feels intimidated but in the odd case the severity of the punishment makes sure it's a once-off. A couple of years back in Leinster, a player was physical with a referee and he was suspended for 10 years.

JAMES FINNEGAN Referee Education Officer at the FAI There are of course times when referees in soccer do get abuse but generally there's an acceptance of our role as men in the middle. A decision is seen as being for or against a team rather than being an objective viewpoint but that's society in general and applies to more than just sport. It just happens that we're the people having to say no.

There are dif"culties at times but when people calm down in soccer they realise we are trying to do the best we can. I guess it begins with kids and they learn from the top players and in the past those big stars haven't been exemplary. But Uefa have been getting tough and it's also a great help to us that leagues for kids are cutting out a lack of discipline early on and that will make a difference.

SEAMUS GARDINER GAA referees spokesperson We're launching a recruitment plan in November and trying to get young referees involved so I suppose we'll know by the end of the year the effect certain incidents will have on young people interested in refereeing. Personally I deal only with referees at inter-county level but I can still see the problems. As children, the emphasis is to win and that comes from parents and coaches and when you see the carry on of adults at some games, well if the kids follow that, it's inevitable you'll have unsavoury incidents. But we always tell our referees to report everything but we are nowhere near the level of respect given to rugby but that has to start at a very young age.