In the early part of the week, the questions kept popping up in GAA circles. Why did he put it in his book? Why splash it across the newspapers? Why do it in a manner that is simply not the GAA way? Why not just stay quiet about that sort of thing?

The subject was Kerry footballer Tadhg Kennelly's admission that he purposely assaulted a Cork player at the beginning of the All Ireland football final last month. (Kennelly later disputed the admission and the interpretation put on his words in his autobiography.)

However, the real talking point last week was instead another book, the one in which Cork hurler Donal Óg Cusack revealed he is gay. Violence is no big deal in GAA circles. The love that dared to speak its name, on the other hand, is totally out of left field, out there beyond the ken of your average manly gael.

Cusack's revelation was fused with courage. He is the first senior GAA player – and the first major Irish sportsman – to reveal his sexual orientation is the minority one. He is also something of a divisive character in the GAA. Some see him as a fearless leader who pursues excellence. For others he is an agitator, chasing power and money within the game.

Reaction to the revelation has been revealing in itself. Most whose opinions were canvassed voiced their admiration for his courage. However, in the bowels of Croke Park, HQ was tongue tied. No comment. How does an official Gael react to the news that one of their own kicks – or pucks – with the left rather than the right limb? Particularly when the Gael in question has been a turbulent priest of the game, behind all manner of ructions besetting the association.

Equally, there was nothing forthcoming from the Cork County Board, for whom Cusack had been something of a nemesis through two strikes, in which he was perceived to be a leader.

The questions being posed by the board, in the bunker of Páirc Uí Chaoimh, on the banks of the Lee, must have been filled with fear. What prompted this latest horror? How much will it cost? Can he be fixed? Does it mean there will be more strikes?

Cusack's own account of his father's reaction to the news was humorous. As Cork goalkeeper, he had been central to a short passing game developed by the team. The new tactics were regarded with suspicion by traditionalists.

When he told his father he was gay, Cusack senior replied that it was tough enough having to defend the short puck-outs, now he would have to defend this as well.

According to Cusack, his county team mates reacted with complete understanding and solidarity, best expressed by ace marksman, Ben O'Connor.

"If Ógie is gay, I don't give a f**k – it won't change one bit what I think about him," O'Connor was reported as saying.

In the bunker, they may well have reacted to the news by suggesting that Cusack had first made ignoble history by leading an inter-county team into a strike, and now he was making history by declaring that he is gay. He had made it once as tragedy, and now a second time as farce.

It's not that the GAA is any way homophobic, or that it should respond to Cusack coming out. It's just that many of the older heads steeped in the association have an image of what constitutes the manly Gael, and anything that deviates from that throws them into confusion. In matters like this, the association is flummoxed.

Even some of those Gaels reaching to understand and praise Cusack last week were a little lost. One leading GAA writer, in issuing high praise for the hurler, referred to him being of the "gay persuasion", which sounds like some class of a weird religious cult, or perhaps a boy band.

The Manly Gael

The image of the manly Gael was first articulated by the association's first patron, Archbiship Croke, in 1884. In a letter responding to Michael Cusack's invitation to take the role of patron, the archbishop replied, "I accede to your request with the utmost pleasure".

He went on to decry the dying of manly Gaelic ways, which were being replaced by a dubious culture, imported from perfidious albion.

"No doubt, there is something rather pleasing to the eye in the 'get up' of a modern young man who, arrayed in light attire, with parti-coloured cap on and racket in hand, is making his way, with or without a companion, to the tennis ground.

"But, for my part, I should vastly prefer to behold, or think of, the youthful athletes whom I used to see in my early days at fair and pattern, bereft of shoes and coat, and thus prepared to play at hand-ball, to fly over any number of horses, to throw the 'sledge' or 'winding-stone', and to test each other's mettle and activity by the trying ordeal of 'three leaps', or a 'hop, step, and a jump'."

The archbishop didn't stop there, striking out at England's "stuff and broadcloths, her habits and such other effeminate follies as she may recommend". The Gael who played and hurled would be different.

Agitation

Since then the character of the manly Gael as exhitibed by the GAA has been diluted at various turns. First there were women. Once they began haranguing for rights to sport and play, it was obvious there would be no stopping them. Association Gaels reacted with the kind of agitation experienced by traditional barbers when a woman enters their premises.

Then the protestants started flowing into the GAA, with their sober interpretations of the great mysteries. They were followed in recent years by foreigners who streamed into the country, togging out in all manner of creed and colours. These people were welcomed with open arms, naturally, but some eyebrows were raised at the prospect of one day the Sam Maguire being lifted by the son of a chieftain from the Nigerian Interior.

British soldiers and RUC men have had to be accommodated, with the former in particular creating the problem of how one delivers a long puck in a Sussex accent.

Now they have to deal with the gay thing. This, above all else, has the potential to create havoc with the image of the manly Gael. Is more of it coming down the line? Is it contagious? What about the growing game of women's football? Mother of Divine Jesus, don't tell me we might have lesbians as well.

Paranoia is setting in. For instance, that incident with Tadhg Kennelly which was highlighted last week. The story was that Kennelly decided to take out Cork player Nicholas Murphy at the start of the All Ireland final. Now, dyed in the wool Gaels are mulling over what actually went on. Was the Kerry player taking Murphy out, as in escorting him somewhere for a date. Where did he take him? What went on? Is there to be no end to this stuff?

The manly Gael as envisioned by Archbishop Croke is with the dead generations in the grave. In its stead, we have a new version of manliness, as expressed by the courage Cusack has exhibited in standing up for who he is.

He did what he did for himself, but the result will inevitably be to brighten the lives of teenagers who are experiencing a sexual awakening that differs from the one which most of their friends are talking about. Enough gay people have spoken about that time of their lives to present an image of fear and confusion, which sometimes stretches on into adulthood. Statistically, some of those teenagers must be involved in sport, including the games of the Gael. Cusack, an All Ireland winning leader of men, has rendered them a great service.