Should a sponsor be able to buy the right to name new Lansdowne stadium?
NO:
What's in a name? How do we identify with a place? In what way do we express a sense of belonging to a family, a community or even a nation? Place names define the boundaries of where we live or come from. Uttering their names evokes memories of holidays, events from our childhood or a proclamation of home.
Connemara, Donabate and Sandymount Strand mean more to me than the names of other places on this island. I know that anyone reading this piece could also recite a litany of places that resonate with them. Memory is the container of each person's heritage and names of persons, places and events are the building blocks of that souvenir. Families and communities have shared memories, and place names are a shorthand reference to a profound experience. For many, Vinegar Hill, Banna Strand or Croagh Patrick instantly evoke more than the physical characteristics of the place as described in the guide book or displayed on the map.
Some places produce a widespread response and their mention links the nation together. The Hill of Tara or the Curragh have a national dimension.
We have detailed legislation to define and protect what we call national monuments. They are part of our national heritage. We attach the word "national" to places and buildings to underline their intrinsic importance and shared ownership. The National Museum and the National Concert Hall are so named and cared for because of their importance.
That was why the Government, of which I was a member, gave taxpayers' money to the GAA to help them redevelop Croke Park. It was part of our national heritage. In turn, the GAA for the first time in its history allowed the national rugby and soccer teams play in the stadium when there was no other national venue available.
The old Lansdowne Road has been demolished and an elegant, modern stadium is being built. When completed, it will be the national stadium for rugby, soccer and possibly some Gaelic football matches.
Such was the cost of the project that notwithstanding the professional nature of rugby and soccer, the Government gave €191 million of taxpayers' money towards the total estimated cost of €365 million. There was broad public and political support for this financial contribution. After all, the old Lansdowne Road had been the scene of many magical moments. Some had thrilled the nation at the time and will be forever remembered.
But things are totally different now, or so we are told. The world has changed and the commerce of globalisation reaches into every corner. The professionalisation of sport and its marketing through the mass media is creating new opportunities to add value or, put simply, to make more money. Such extra resources can be reinvested in the sport and its participants, thereby creating more spectacles for the viewing public.
Moreover, as that viewing public increases, the additional numbers create new advertising opportunities for commercial brands.
So what's in a name? What's really wrong with the Tesco Stadium being the new venue for national contests of rugby and soccer? We may win the Triple Crown at the Tesco Stadium, but many of us could confuse that with a grocery special offer rather than a sporting display that makes the nation proud. If maximising the new stadium's market value is the motive, then surely the highest bidder will win the day. Could we have the Ann Summers Stadium or even the Carlsberg Stadium? Who knows, or more importantly, who decides what would be the conditions attached to an annual cheque of up to €5 million for up to 15 years? Presumably, all printed material would carry the new name. Would pundits be obliged to refer only to the new sponsor's name and not where the stadium is located?
If this is the way the world is going, why don't we take it a bit farther? Could such an idea of maximising value not be taken up by the Government? Why not ask local authorities to increase their revenues by selling place names? Why not Guinness Green instead of St Stephen's Green or Coca-Cola Strand instead of the prosaic Sandymount? After all, we are told that we live in a globalised world where money is king. Added value must be created to increase revenue; that's all that really matters. The fact that we are an old nation and now a modern, affluent State seems irrelevant. There was a time when there were some things that money could not buy. I thought our national self-respect was one of them. So what's in a name: memory or money?
Ruairi Quinn TD is Labour Party spokesman on education and science.
