Timing is everything. It was the morning of GAA Congress. There was a motion down for decision on the day that might have opened up the possibility of soccer being played at Croke Park. To be passed, it would require a majority of two-thirds to vote in favour of it. If this happened, and the motion was passed, it would undoubtedly rank among the most significant developments in Irish sport in years, bringing to an end one of the great symbolic divides in Irish society, and finally consigning the ‘ban’ mentality – clearly a throwback to civil war politics and beyond – to the dustbin of history.

The newspapers on the morning of the crucial vote featured a news story. Recently, the FAI had been promised a vast pot of money to abandon its plans to build an international-quality soccer stadium and to row in, instead, with the Government’s proposed all-purpose National Stadium in Abbotstown – a plan that has been heavily sponsored and promoted by the Taoiseach himself, Bertie Ahern. Now, news stories revealed, the Government were putting another £60 million on the table – handing it, this time, to the GAA.

The nature of the debate about the ban on soccer at Croke Park was transformed with this revelation. Without this agreement from the Government, the choices facing the GAA had been pretty stark. Maintain the ban and risk being in a position where the grand plans for Croke Park – the real national stadium, incidentally – which are currently running way over budget and behind schedule, might never be brought to fruition. Or remove it and be in there with a shout at least of picking up an extra few million in revenues from hiring the venue to the FAI for football internationals (and other prestige soccer events) over the next couple of years.

While not enough in itself to solve the funding shortfall, those in favour of removing the ban would be able to argue that the anticipated revenue might prove to be vital in helping to bridge the funding gap. In theory also, the case for securing Government funding would have been strengthened by the widened accessibility, and use, of the stadium. Now in one fell swoop, those arguments had been rendered redundant.

The effect was clear. The compelling financial incentive to get rid of the ban had been removed. Suddenly the element of pragmatism had been stolen from the arsenal of those pushing for the end of the ban. Now, it was down to a question of ideology, and perhaps of idealism.

Is it right to effectively discriminate against one or two sports? How can you justify allowing American football to grace the hallowed turf of Croke Park, and not its sister sport, rugby? What’s the rationale for letting pop stars play in GAA headquarters, and not the cream of Irish soccer talent? The arguments are familiar ones, and compelling enough – but not half as compelling as the threat of financial disaster. And, in the event, so it proved. The vote was tight, but by a margin of just two votes, the ban on soccer was retained.

So what was going on, in terms of the timing of the Government announcement? Was this an attempt to influence the GAA vote? And, if so, towards what end?

We can of course only speculate, but one thing is certainly clear from the recent experience of the FAI. And it is this: if the Government sets its mind to it, it can force the hand of almost any sporting organisation.

If, for example, it had been spelled out to the GAA that it could expect no further funding for its upgrading of Croke Park unless there was an agreement that soccer or rugby could be played there, then the push for change within the GAA would have become much stronger. If this was the Government’s preference, then there was no need to concede on the request for additional funding until the issue of the ban had been resolved.

If, on the other hand, the Government wanted soccer to be without any attractive option other than Abbotstown, then they have gone the right way about ensuring it.

As it happens, another interesting figure was revealed on the weekend of GAA congress. Apparently the cost of moving the various Government departments currently housed on the proposed site for the National Stadium in Abbotstown has been underestimated by approximately £100 million – a staggering mistake by anyone’s standards. So how did this happen? And why are the Government so fantastically committed to pushing this particular project through, in this specific place – despite the fact that current international thinking on sports stadia has moved on from the idea of locating them in placers like Abbotstown, on the periphery of cities.

There are a couple of things that need to be considered. First, it is still not too late to review the whole Abbotstown scheme, and in particular to look at the possibility of building a stadium – on the same scale, or perhaps on a slightly more modest one – close to the city centre, say in the docklands area, where it would have the potential to act as a major engine of inner-city rejuvenation.

And secondly, Aer Lingus – the national airline – is currently going through convulsions that might yet have the potential to destroy it. At least in part this is happening because of the precarious financial position in which the airline finds itself. We are told that the company needs £200 million to invest in the business by 2003 and the intention had been to float it on the stock exchange in order to raise this. But is that desirable? And should it be necessary?

I’m all for the Government supporting sporting organisations. But when you add the money that is being spent on the National Stadium (including £165 million on relocating Government departments), to the money being paid to secure the FAI’s commitment, to the total money being given to the GAA to redevelop Croke Park (£90 million) – well, it’s hard not to feel that it would have been possible to create a national stadium, for all, for a lot less. And also that, in the wider scheme of things, priorities have become somewhat skewed.

A strong national airline – like a strong national broadcaster – is a key strategic concern. The Government needs to get its collective head around that one – and quickly.