Same-Sex Marriage and the Paradox of Irish Sport

A strange thing is happening in Ireland. The right to love openly and free from constitutional prejudice is at stake. In a nation where simply being gay was illegal until 1993, the coming weeks represent a bellwether for Irish society. A noble battle against an ignoble law has unfolded, but it is not without precedent. The 1970s saw a fight for access to contraception. The '80s were marred by a failed push to legalise abortion. And the '90s introduced a wholly foreign concept: divorce.

This Friday (May 22), by way of a contentious referendum, the country will decide if gay marriages should be afforded the same constitutional status as those between heterosexual partners.

The Yes campaign argues that the current arrangement is borne of a country that was domineered by the Catholic aristocracy – an archaic anomaly unfit for a modern, fair and open society. The No side – often tinted with religious overtones – has said without a hint of irony that gay marriage is tantamount to child abuse.

In the sporting sphere, the debate has played out in what is commonly perceived as the country's most traditionalist of organisations: the GAA. An umbrella term for three games – hurling, handball and Gaelic football – played under rules set by a central body, the GAA presides over the nation's most well subscribed sports and can be considered the sentry of Ireland's pastimes, if not its way of life.

The games are played by elite amateurs. Five days a week they are teachers, builders, students, solicitors, and everything in between. On a Sunday they are the bold protectors of a county's pride; exhilarating and exalted everymen and women prepared to batter seven shades of shit out of each other and turn up for work on Monday morning. The stands rumble and sway to a chorus of names – usually the first: Dans, Henrys, Davys, Jayos.

As ruling bodies go, the GAA ranks among the most dogmatic. Within the wider county structure (inter-county games being akin to an international stage, club being like the domestic game) teams are affiliated with parishes, local churches and their clergymen. Its roots lie in the suppression of civil rights in the early 19th century and, naturally, the hierarchical bigotry towards the majority of the Irish population. Put simply, the GAA was founded as a Catholic sporting organisation and in many ways it remains so.

In 2009, one of the country's most high-profile hurlers, Donal Og Cusack, publicly acknowledged that he was gay. Some said it was merely a ploy to hawk the autobiography he had just published and others accused him of using it enhance his profile within the media. Six years on, Donal Og is still gay. As is his brother, Conor, who himself enjoyed a brief top-level hurling career.

Donal Og's coming out was a catalyst for the position Ireland finds itself in today. Panti Bliss, the country's most famous drag artist, later furthered things with an inspired speech in the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, itself no stranger to reflective and often controversial thought on the Irish condition.

For Valerie Mulcahy – a teacher and decorated Cork footballer who ranks among the modern greats in the women's game – a country that does not accept her right to happiness is not one in which she wants to remain. What she loves is what could hurt her the most. "We would find it hard to live in a homeland that doesn't seem to welcome us or accept us for who we are," she says. Until now Mulcahy has been determined if not forceful in putting forward her views, but her voice quivers. "It's very upsetting… I would have to see how I would feel."

Eamon McGee's Wikipedia entry suggests that – aside from his duties as a formidable Donegal corner back, Bergkamp-like fear of flying and work as a physical therapist – he "supports marriage equality in his spare time". McGee shows this to be an inaccuracy. He is committed to equality across the board – 100 per cent of the time. "I thought we were past all of this but there is still ignorance out there. It is my opinion, and people are entitled theirs, but in my opinion there is still ignorance."

McGee has been heavily involved in a campaign called Straight up for Equality. A movement comprised of high-profile heterosexual individuals intent on dragging Ireland away from a dark constitutional and societal past. He says the reception to his involvement has been generally positive, but not completely so. "You get the few people that give you a bit of grief… I got sent anonymous letters saying I was going to go to hell and I was leading people's souls to hell. There was also the priest who mentioned my name on the pulpit. I would have preferred it not to happen but these people's opinions are irrelevant to me."

"Hell" is the thinly-veiled theological argument, usually wrapped in constitutional waffle, that invariably shapes the views of those lingering along the disappearing hardline of Catholic Irish politics. With days to go, one Dublin footballer tested these waters with yet another poorly informed constitutional argument for why gay marriage should not be written into law. In one sense it was shocking, but Ger Brennan's views represent the typical muddled thinking of the indoctrinated Catholic fringe.

Brennan, a man of considerable faith and a secondary school religion teacher, was lauded last year when he gave a victory speech thanking the "girlfriends and boyfriends" of his team-mates. A little over 12 months later he wrote in the Irish Independent that he was voting No "because I don't want our Constitution to deny that it is a good thing for a child to have a mother and a father".

Later, he would go on national radio to offer quickly disproven legal implications for surrogacy if a Yes vote did happen. Conor Cusack, the former Cork hurler, pointed out the obvious philosophical flaws in Brennan's argument. "I'd absolutely love to live in an ideal world but that's not the reality of life. Life is complex, life is messy and the strength of any society is how it embraces that complexity. There's nothing simple about family life," he told Today FM, a national radio station.

That Brennan has previously spoken about the "sense of belonging" the Catholic church has offered him makes his rash judgement on even the idea of a family headed by a gay couple all the more shocking. A key difference between Brennan and Mulcahy is one that she makes very clear: this referendum is one "that affects me. And affects me personally".

There is an air of slight relief when Mulcahy lets it be known that both the men's and women's Gaelic Players Associations have voted overwhelmingly to back a Yes vote. "We want to make sure we're representative of all players . . . the players playing our games are mainly in support of it," she says.

While leading figures in the games have not shied away from either side of the debate, the GAA itself has. The organisation has refused to endorse a vote on the basis that it is A-political. Jerry Buttimer, the first out member of Irish Parliament (TD) aligned to the ruling Fine Gael party, suggested that this was a valid stance. Following the reversal of a decision to allow David Gough, a referee who is gay, to wear a rainbow wristband while officiating, Buttimer told the journal.ie: "I can understand where the GAA are coming from in that they are a non-political organisation."

But McGee says that what is a civil rights matter has been wrongly politicised. "This is a societal issue … it would be different if [Gough] was putting on an 'I love Fianna Fail' shirt," he says.

"I thought it would have been a good opportunity for the GAA to make a point and say, 'Listen, we're all for equality here and everybody is welcome in our organisation'."

Before it seems like he is out to give the GAA a trampling similar to that given to Mayo's Enda Varley which got him sent off in 2013, McGee softens his stance. "They were properly stuck between a rock and hard place because they had to make a call fairly quickly on it. Unfortunately, in my opinion, they missed out on a good opportunity to be shown as a progressive organisation. Which they are. They are a progressive organisation. It's just that was a good chance to show the public."

Mulcahy won't be drawn. Her focus is on players. On making the sport more welcoming to those that might have trepidation about dressing room antics that go beyond the jocular. "We're going to go ahead with [backing the Yes vote] as players because we are players. We're not the body."

Even so, there are issues. She says the passing around of No fliers at a League match in April, which drew a crowd of almost 20,000 people, should have been stopped. "If [the GAA] were going to have a stance on it that's what I would have liked to have seen."

The GAA is a glorious sporting paradox. It is pluralistic and singular. It is local and national. It is urban and it is rural. It is inherently political but outwardly neutral. It toes a line of secularism while being bound in an almost incompressible way to the Catholic church. It is Yes. And it is No.