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The awards ceremony can inspire a strange fervor that doesn’t always match the festive mood.
That year, Paul O’Donovan’s absence from the shortlist for RTÉ’s Athlete Personality of the Year proved controversial (and for the sake of transparency it should be noted that this correspondent is on the jury for the RTÉ Prize).
The fact that he was nominated in the team section has drawn some, but not all, of the heat out of the discussion.
There are always rows and one or the other “shame!†Scream. around these events, and they are usually biased: advocates of a particular sport can quickly mobilize if they feel that their wife or husband is not being properly recognized.
The interesting thing about O’Donovan’s example was that the first impression that it had been ignored caught on so quickly.
The rowing circle in this country is not large, but it has been shown that his talent and status are now also understood and valued by landlubbers.
He’s simply an Irishman who is a star in a global sport, a native, self-trained phenomenon that is considered great in countries and cultures with richer and more ornate histories.
What he did on July 28th in the lightweight with Fintan McCarthy in the doubles, underlines his status within the sport as the best rower in the world. But it also meant an instant improvement in his ranking in Irish sport.
As with the year-end awards, talking about who is the greatest is cold. They dismiss it as frivolous and pointless because it is difficult to measure an athlete in one sport against another.
The second part of the point is legitimate, but the fact is that much of the sport’s glory is immeasurable.
Much of this cannot be based on empirical evidence that can be applied to all sports alike, given the conditions, teammates and the strength of the competitive field, but that does not reduce the excitement for the debate.
Like those who used to roll their eyes at Saipan’s fascination, rankings and lists seem to be missing out on one of the joys of sport: deciding who is the best.
Paul O’Donovan’s claim to be Ireland’s most powerful athlete was underscored by the events in Tokyo – but that was just the culmination of a surprisingly successful career.
He is a two-time Olympic medalist, gold in the lightweight doubles this year with Fintan McCarthy, silver in Rio 2016 with his brother Gary.
He was world champion for four consecutive years, in 2016 and 2017 in twos, in 2018 with his brother in doubles and in 2019 with McCarthy.
Then there are the two European gold medals, both in doubles, one this year with McCarthy, one in 2016 with Gary, and silver in doubles in 2017 and 2018.
Paul O’Donovan wins on the international stage in a sport that places brutal physical demands on its athletes with a consistency unsurpassed in Irish sport.
There are other compelling contenders for Ireland’s Greatest Award, including Sonia O’Sullivan, Roy Keane, Katie Taylor and Rory McIlroy.
But the fact that a rower is now rightly classified in this company is remarkable in and of itself, and in part evidence of a high-performance rowing culture that has accelerated over the past decade.
The women’s foursome won a brilliant bronze medal in Tokyo too, of course, and the Irish athletes’ medals in the sport came after an Olympic cycle that many participants agreed was merciless.
Under Director Antonio Maurogiovanni, the Irish high performance system was demanding standards that even some veterans of the sport found unsustainable.
Instead, the Olympics ended with Ireland competing in the rowing elite, as Irish crews have done for years at European and World Championships.
What happened in Tokyo was simply maintaining a standard that has shone in less refined environments for years.
One of the inevitable stories leading up to Tokyo was the split up of the O’Donovan brothers. Before every major competition, trial runs are held, sometimes months in advance and over several weeks, to determine which rowers should do the boat.
Paul and Gary O’Donovan were Ireland’s two lightweight doubles for years, but in 2019 Fintan McCarthy, her friend and Skibbereen club-mate, trained and competed at a level that put Gary O’Donovan under tremendous pressure.
Eventually, as it was, the partnership that yielded silver at Rio was dissolved, and everyone accepted the harsh but indisputable truth without resentment. Gary O’Donovan traveled to Tokyo as a reserve for the boat, ready to intervene in the event that any of his brothers or McCarthy were knocked out by injury or illness.
It wasn’t required; his younger brother mused during an interview after their gold medal race that Gary probably couldn’t see the race.
Due to the strict Covid-19 protocols, the athletes had to leave Japan as soon as their race was over and when it was clear that Gary was not needed it was time to go home. That was a manifestation of the toughness that is an important part of a winning story.
Paul O’Donovan provided another insight with an interview he gave at the Irish Olympic Preview Day. The questioning inevitably led to his brother, the end of their boat partnership and the possible effects.
“I like to try to win races, so if I can have a faster combination you’ll probably be a little happier and have a better chance of winning gold,” he argued. It was that obvious.
Everyone involved understood the arrangement. Winning mattered. The Irish won.
The Southern Star, the West Cork newspaper that detailed the O’Donovans specifically but the broader skibbereen rowing phenomenon in general, published a story about the Cork Athletics Cross Country Championships in early October.
38 took part in the men’s beginners’ race. Paul O’Donovan, who ran in the colors of the Leevale Club, finished 16th and completed the six-kilometer course in a time of 22 minutes 47 seconds.
It was an indication of the breadth of his athletic talent and fitness that formed the basis of what happened in Tokyo.
He won’t turn 28 until April, and there is at least one other Olympiad in him.
By Paris in 2024, he could stand alone in Irish sports. So he’s one of the very best.
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