A MUCH younger and sometimes wiser man than me, who was born and raised in Derry, advised me on one occasion that, "Rugby union is GAA for slow learners".

And I, not really having a clue what he was talking about, replied, "Very good? very interesting? indeed!"

Since our relationship at times borders on 'Grasshopper V's Master' (as in David Carradine's brilliant Kung Fu TV show from the mid-70s) I had to confess I didn't have a clue what he was talking about. Tell me more, I begged.

He informed me his nugget of a message was an off-spring of something the former Deputy First Minister of Northern Ireland, Seamus Mallon, once uttered. "The Good Friday Agreement, " Mallon stated, "is Sunningdale for slow learners."

Presumably, at this stage, you are completely perplexed. That's OK, because I'm not very far ahead of you on the road to enlightenment - so, we can consider this statement together on this famous and historic morning.

To begin with, we should welcome our 'Irish' visitors and our 'French' visitors to Croke Park. It's good to have them in our home. We know they'll behave themselves and, more than that, we know they will grace our magnificent stadium. Croker will be an even greater and far more spiritual place when this Six Nations contest has ended.

The same can not be said, however, in advance of the Republic of Ireland football team's visit. Why the fathers of the GAA ever allowed themselves to be talked into letting the FAI make themselves at home, here, in a ground built on the backs (not to mention the blood and sweat, etc) of three or four generations of GAA members from every single parish in the country is something, quite frankly, I'll never understand.

I would not let Stan, Shay - even though they've played Gaelic football as young lads - or anybody else near the place, and not for the reasons lashed out by Micheál Greenan and his army of traditionalists. I'm notmarching down that road. My refusal would be based, completely, on a strong commercial belief that any high moral ground, or large fat cheques, which the GAA gains by opening its gates to Association Football will be extremely short term rewards.

The GAA, after all, amateur or not, is in the business of sport. That's a reality, and a significant part of this includes the fact that the GAA is laden down with significant debt the length and breadth of the country. The GAA can not afford to be any Mother Theresa.

In addition, the GAA has many different types of games and activities to foster. In business terms these should be called 'brands' - and two of these 'brands', Gaelic football and hurling, are not only in competition with one another, but they are also fighting every single weekend, in every single parish, for the attention (and hearts and minds) of the country's teenage population.

The GAA should not be sharing anything, not a field, not a bean, with the FAI.

Besides, they'll probably forget to thank us, and they will not be in Croker half an hour when they'll think they own the place. Anyhow. . .

that's a discussion for another day.

The IRFU are good sports.

They keep their distance. They don't go nosing around parishes for players, and they are of absolutely no threat to the good health of Gaelic football and hurling - even deep into the era of the new professional game.

Rugby has indeed bred strong clubs with a sense of tradition and place ("Throw a bag of balls over your shoulder, " another man of some wisdom once advised me, "and you can say you've got a soccer club.") Rugby clubs don't spread like wildfire, and neither do they split up into different pieces, like one giant insect becoming two sizeable insects, and two becoming four. . .

I like rugby people, and I like soccer people, but this is business.

And when it comes to 'thanks yous' and 'compliments', I can guarantee you the soccer folk (who have visited some fantastic grounds all over the world, granted) will not be out of Croker when they'll be telling us how it's not quite as big as the Nou Camp, not quite as comfy as the Emirates, and not the same buzz or craic as Old Trafford.

They'll have a knowing smile. I can see those faces already.

There'll be none of that smart-alecky stuff this evening, even though our 'Irish' visitors have been to the Millennium Stadium and Twickenham dozens of times.

But, back to the very beginning. . . is rugby, really, GAA for slow learners?

On the one hand, since rugby is a thriving game and since the IRFU proved themselves most astute businessmen, it has to be said they are not too slow.

However, even though the IRFU has a 32county team, it is still more of a tortoise than a hare when it comes to nation-building. They possess a team of fantastic ability, and provinces with immense pulling power, but after that they've only got a smattering of clubs - and they foolishly ignore (do not even contest in fact) rural Ireland.

It's 2007. Gerry Adams is happy to have his grand-children in the Police Service of Northern Ireland. Next up, Ian Paisley will be allowing his to go to the movies and grab something to eat with Adams's.

So, Phil Coulter's song aimed at helping Irish people to play rugby together has, do we not all agree, had its day?

POSTSCRIPT: As a young journalist (and inter-county footballer) I spent large chunks of my life in rugby grounds between 1985 and 1994. I was over and back to Twickenham, Murrayfield and the Parc des Princes with the dearly departed Sunday Press. I visited Lansdowne Road a hundred times to write on Ireland, and the provinces, and lots of clubs in empty stadiums.

I stuck my head into Ravenhill, Thomond Park and the Sportsground dozens of times.

And there was always a warm welcome for the young GAA man from fellow journalists, club officials, players and coaches - from Cork Con to Terenure to Ballymena.

And the Irish coaches who preceded Eddie O'Sullivan, I also always found them decent men. The late Mick Doyle, Jerry Murphy and Jimmy Davidson amongst them - these were genuine all-round sports men, who would tell me everything I wished to learn about their game, and then talk about soccer and Gaelic football.

Some of these men were also sound GAA men to begin with, like our present-day brilliant leader Eddie O'Sullivan.

I've never had the honour of meeting the man, but I know he was and remains one of us too.

Eddie and the men who preceded him could never be considered slow learners, just men with a taste for the very best of sport.