The man behind the jersey
Graham Canty: ‘I just see myself as a fella who plays a bit of Gaelic football.’
The Southern Star, Saturday, June 1st 2013
IT’S a little-known story that Dr Denis Cotter still enjoys recounting to this very day, his accompanying hearty laugh an intriguing embellishment.
‘Ask him,’ the affable Bantry GP insists, still smiling.
‘See what he says. But just don’t leave him near a dog, not before a big game anyway,’ he quips, mischievously.
Armed with precious, and rare, inside information about a footballer who makes no secret that he is not the greatest interviewee, Graham Canty is more than halfway through his cup of tea, relaxed back into his inviting seat in the lobby of the Oriel House Hotel, in downtown Ballincollig on a postcard-perfect May evening, when Dr Cotter’s name crops up.
‘So, tell me the story about your Jack Russell and the night before Bantry Blues’ Munster senior club semi-final against Moyle Rovers back in ’98, Graham?
Gotcha
His smile gives the game away, followed by a laugh, and a slight shake of the head – a This Is Your Life moment, right, smack, bang in the middle of a bustling hotel, as guests busied themselves in all directions, oblivious to the presence of the Cork senior football captain, just a few steps away.
But that’s just the way Graham likes it, to fly under the radar unnoticed, a private person who likes to keep it that way, and who is entitled to.
The spotlight isn’t for everyone.
But on this Wednesday evening, it’s shining on him, and right now about how his family pet – no longer with us – decided to keep the then 17 year old, still a minor in his first season as a senior, grounded, before one of the biggest games of his fledgling football career.
‘We’d won the county that year (’98), and we’d beaten Laune Rangers in the first round in Munster, down in Bantry, and we had Moyle Rovers at home then in the semi-final, but there was awful bad weather so it was switched to Dunmanway,’ he recalled.
‘The night before the game, the dog at home decided to take a nip at me, for whatever reason. I’d to go down to the hospital to get three or four stitches in the index figure that night, around 11 or 12.
‘It was grand, just a few stitches. It was a wet day for the game, pouring rain, so I’d to wear gloves, and the finger was fine, not a bother. But we lost.’
Phobia
Any fear of dogs since? A secret phobia that you’ve kept under wraps for all these years?
Again, his smile acts as the appetiser to his laugh, before he politely adds: no.
Sometimes, more often than not in an interview situation, the Cork captain is a man of few words. But he makes no apologies for this.
He is who he is, a man from West Cork whose hobby is Gaelic football, and who is quite good at this; the longevity of his inter-county career (he made his senior league debut in 1999) is testament to this.
Since those early days, the 32 year old acknowledges that the role of the media has changed dramatically, with more column inches and television minutes devoted to the GAA than ever before.
With that, the media and supporters alike want to find out more and more about their heroes, what makes them tick, any secrets lurking away in the shadows, mysteries just waiting to be discovered.
Cue a polite cough, a sideward glance to see who’s passing by, the two men in suits huddled over their laptops nearby seem too engrossed to be aware of what’s to come next, the receptionist too busy on the phone.
‘So, Graham, any hidden secrets you’d like to share?
He pauses.
‘Secrets? Nah, what you see is what you get.’
Back to the drawing board, but Graham does readily admit interviews just aren’t his cup of tea, a by-product of the GAA’s profile.
‘It’s a bit strange sometimes,’ he muses.
‘I understand that the GAA plays a huge role in Gaelic Games’ promotion, and that’s very important, but sometimes I am a bit uncomfortable with what people perceive my role should be in that. I just see myself as a fella who plays a bit of Gaelic football.
‘Sometimes, people can’t understand that when they ask a question that you don’t answer totally honestly, or they ask a question and you just refuse to answer it.
‘But you’re asking me the question, I don’t have to freely share my opinion with you. It’s my opinion. I’d like to keep it to myself. I don’t want to see it printed in a newspaper.
‘Some people are happy to share what they feel, others aren’t, because sometimes your opinion could offend some people, it could cause offence, and I have no interest in doing that.’
It should come as no surprise then that the Bantry Blues clubman hasn’t embraced social media, such as Facebook and Twitter. It doesn’t interest him, though he does admit to using his wife’s Facebook account on the odd occasion, keeping in touch with friends Down Under.
‘I just don’t see the point in telling people what I am doing day to day or week to week. I don’t think ‘Graham Canty drinking a cup of tea’ is going to make much difference to peoples’ lives. I am a private person. An ordinary person. It just doesn’t appeal to me,’ explained the Bord Gáis engineer (based in the city), who now lives in Ovens with his wife and their one-year-old boy.
Enigma
A high-profile footballer who likes to keep himself to himself, Graham is somewhat of an enigma in the sports journalism world, with many keen to explore just who is the man behind the jersey?
‘There isn’t much to tell, really,’ he laughs, keen to brush off the attention, dismissing the intrigue as an assumption, not a fact.
Long-time friend Dr Cotter disagrees: ‘Graham might be one of the most recognisable faces in the GAA now but he has never forgotten where he came from and who he represents.
‘Fame has never changed him. He’s still the same Graham I’ve known since he was a kid. You could still ring him for a chat now, ask him for a signed jersey, ask him to present something to someone, and he would. Ask anyone around town, they’d tell you the same thing.’
Somewhat of a local legend in the vibrant West Cork outpost that forged yet another GAA icon in Graham, the son of Con and Catherine, who grew up in Dromleigh, the middle brother to Jeremy (older) and Niall (younger).
As a kid, he remembers the awe in his eyes when he used to see Declan Barron and Donal Hunt strolling through town; Bantry Blues’ heroes he aspired to emulate.
‘They were two huge names in Gaelic football, and to see them walking around the streets of Bantry was a huge incentive as a kid,’ he explained.
‘Seeing what they achieved, you’d think it wasn’t inconceivable that you’d play at that level, but I didn’t think I would be in a position where I would get to put on a Cork jersey.
‘What I was aiming for was to put on an adult Bantry jersey – that’s what I wanted to do, that’s what mattered.’
Mission accomplished, winning a county senior football championship in his first season with the Blues, with one Celtic cross, three All-Stars, numerous league and Munster titles, and much more, the physical proof of his inter-county endeavours.
So much so, the boy has become king, in Bantry at least, taking over mantle of kids’ hero from Barron and Hunt.
‘That doesn’t sit great with me, to be honest. I try not to think about it like that,’ he admitted – an unassuming hero, the best type.
‘To be honest, I’d like to do more work with the underage club at home, even just be available to turn up and chat to the kids, but it’s hard to get time sometimes, even to get home.
‘I’d like to do more, with the U8s, U10s, U12s, just to help out. The lads training them are brilliant, the way that the engage the kids, who love it – eyes wide-eyed and mouths opened.’
So, does he envisage stepping into the dugout in life after his playing days?
‘I don’t have any coaching skills, and I don’t see myself doing any managing in the future, nothing serious anyway,’ Graham admits.
But former Cork selector, Carbery trainer and current Carbery GAA Board Chairman John Corcoran hints that maybe, just maybe, Graham has what it takes to make the transition down the line.
Advice
‘With Carbery, he was a great man to give the younger fellas on the team advice, words of encouragement. He’d sit down with them in the dressing-room, or talk to them on the field. It was great to see. And he thought nothing of it. He is a model player, on and off the field.’
Again, the apprentice has become the master, as unknown to even himself, he has assumed the role of leader, whether he likes it or not, sharing his nuggets of wisdom, just as those before Graham (the team of ’98 under Terry O’Neill) have shared with him.
‘They taught me discipline, they taught me about hard work, and they taught me how training should be,’ he said.
‘(Former Cork footballer) Mark O’Connor was a defender. I was a defender. I’d watch everything Mark would do. He was very good to give guidance. Football is very simple. Defending is very simple. He taught me the basics, which was a great start.
‘Then there was Damien O’Neill. He was playing with Cork as well. They were the two players I looked up to. They were different, they had a fierce hunger for success and winning, but they enjoyed it, and never lost that enjoyment.’
They are character traits that have rubbed off on Graham, who all these years later is still in love with the game, whether it’s on the national stage in the blood and bandages, or sharing the journey with his brothers Jeremy and Niall with Bantry
Perhaps, this next line of questioning might ruffle his feathers, take him out of his comfort zone, and push open the door to his life that little bit more.
‘Ever suffer from middle child syndrome, Graham?
He takes control, swings the door open himself, no secrets hiding there – the Canty brothers took a different approach, he smiled.
‘I used to get a hammering from the older fella growing up, and then I’d pass that on the younger fella,’ Graham laughed.
‘As kids, we played as much hurling as football, we pucked around a ball as much as we kicked a ball. There was soccer and rugby too but GAA was always there. My father has a huge interest in GAA, above any other sports, and that rubbed off on us. It was always there in the house.’
But brotherly love was firmly left at home when it came to matches: ‘There are definitely no barriers there with us. We are tough on each other, not as forgiving as we might be with other lads.’
Obvious
Chatting with Graham, it’s obvious that home is where the heart is. He lives in Ovens, but home is Bantry, an hour door to door.
Family matters too. A hell of a lot. It comes first. Every time.
‘When the small fella came along, things changed,’ he said.
‘Before it was just myself and my wife, you could come and go whenever you wanted, once you were fed and watered yourself. Now, it’s different, a good different – it’s hard, but it’s ten times harder for my wife, who’s been brilliant.’
With the arrival of one of Cork’s smallest GAA fans, Graham’s outlook on life changed, but his priorities’ list stayed the same– family comes first, and football is fitted around this.
‘Football has always been important to me but it’s never been the be-all and end-all in my life. I always maintain that it’s been a pastime of mine. Some people like walking, others like collecting stamps, I like football. I’m not denying that I have put a lot of time into it. But that’s because I enjoy it,’ the Bantry man explained.
But still, there is no end in sight to his football adventure.
‘I’m still enjoying it, and while I am I want to keep going as long as I can – how long that is, I don’t know,’ Graham stressed.
‘We live in the year. And I just take it one year at a time. It’s been like that since I played in my first league game, against Kerry in Páirc Uí Rinn, back in the days when the league was played before Christmas.
‘I definitely appreciate it more now though. When you hit your late 20s, you come to the realisation that every year could be your last year. That drives you on more to make sure that the year you are in is the best that it can be.’
Raised
The bar has now been raised by Donegal’s efforts last year, with Graham and Cork feeling the full force of the green and gold juggernaut in last year’s All-Ireland semi-final – the team that has changed Gaelic football, for good or for bad?
‘I don’t agree that they are a negative unit,’ he said.
‘Christ, when they turn over a team in their own full-back line, they break at speed. It’s brilliant to watch, great to see, but not when you’re playing against them though.
‘The amount of times Colm McFadden scored from over 40 yards, the amount of times Karl Lacey burst up the pitch and clipped one over, the times when Frank McGlynn came forward. Donegal play a tight, defensive unit. Now, they have evolved into a huge attacking force.’
That has forced Graham, Cork and Co to evolve their game – it’s challenges like this that keep the mind young, fresh and invigorated. It’s etched in his furrowed brow, the serious look on his face, both telling their own story.
But he is keen to stress that the more football changes, the more it actually stays the same.
‘What everyone cares about at the final whistle is the result – that much hasn’t changed,’ he pointed out, matter-of-factly.
‘I don’t agree that the skill element has been taken out, that will always be there in Gaelic football. But I think managers and teams are looking, more and more, at how they can shut down the opposition, so they can maximize their own performance.
‘We use stats. We use them for what they are. But we don’t read too much into them. It’s about on the day, the willingness to work hard. Stats are useful. But they aren’t the be-all and end-all.’
Living and playing for the present, the fire still burns deep inside Canty, and when his Cork days are over, there will be more time for Bantry. It’s where he started. It’s where he will finish.
So just who is the man behind the jersey? Sometimes, what you’re looking for is sitting right in front of you.
A loving husband, a devoted father, a private family man, a down-to-earth clubman with a passion for Gaelic football, unchanged by the trappings of success and fame, who prefers to keep himself to himself, and an all-round good guy.
Fittingly, Graham has the last word: ‘I don’t want to be remembered as anything. When I finish up, I finish up. That’s it. People can judge me how they like. That doesn’t bother me. I have all the memories I need.’
With that, this interview/ mild interrogation is over.
‘It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,’ he smiled.
But it was far more interesting and revealing than first glance, because behind this man of mystery, there actually is no mystery. Graham Canty is who Graham Canty is, exactly who you see, no secrets, no controversies, no nonsense.
Striding off out of reception, next stop Ovens, he fades into the crowd, just another face, just the way he likes it.
