Meathman's Diary: So much left unsaid about 'dirty Meath'

Did you see the documentary on Sean Boylan a few weeks ago? Just about everybody I spoke to about 'Sean' felt it was a decent portrayal of the man; well crafted although as somebody added it would take at least three full-length documentaries to explore in any great detail the various aspects of the man's career and life.

One of those not greatly impressed with 'Sean' was the Sunday Independent sports columnist Tommy Conlon. I know Tommy well as a fine Leitrim man, very witty and affable. He is an excellent journalist also, a writer who constantly seeks to get to the heart of the matter.

He wrote a review of 'Sean' and claimed it didn't address a central aspect of Boylan's life and his time with Meath; the seeming contradiction between Sean Boylan - the kindly, good humoured, humanitarian herbalist from Dunboyne - and the teams he sent out who built up reputations as ruthless, nasty. Dirty Meath.

The Royal County under Boylan, it was asserted in the piece, used roughhouse tactics as one of their tactics to get to the top of the pile, particularly in the 1980s. However, that assertion has become something of a cliche - and that is the problem with Tommy's argument; it is largely built on a one-sided misconception that has evolved over the years.

Meath were, of course, a tough, hard-tackling team but they played in an era when Gaelic football was tough, even dangerous. There was even a Wild West aspect to soccer in the 1980s and early '90s.

Tommy, in his piece, asserted that Meath "fouled their opponents repeatedly, sometimes with swinging arms to the head. It was unashamedly cynical." Yet Meath were bullied in the 1988 All-Ireland final when they drew with Cork.

Colm O'Rourke in particular took a hefty hit that had a lasting effect on him. Others took similar blows. Brian Staffard had to have stitches in a facial wound.

The players themselves had a meeting and opted to adopt a more robust approach for the replay. The nature of the game then dictated that they "manned up" because if they didn't they would be crushed. That was the reality. Meath weren't angels but they weren't the assassins they have been made out to be either; the truth is far more nuanced.

The point was made also that Meath somehow lowered the tone of Gaelic football. "When Meath took over as champions in 1987 and '88, it was like going back to the dark ages," Conlon wrote. That they showcased "a level of ignorance that should have embarrassed them."

Yet violence on the football field has been taken place since the GAA started out in 1884. In 1983, for example, Dublin and Galway played in a bitter, foul-ridden All-Ireland final that had four players sent off.

There's no unsolved mystery, no contradiction when it comes to Sean Boylan and his team. He told his players to go out there and be strong and stand up for themselves. Don't complain, get on with things.

Some of his troops, from time to time, stepped over the line in the white heat of battle - but that's the way it was back then. They weren't the only ones.