As he analyses the mismatched World Cup tie between England and Iran on The Hard Shoulder (Newstalk, weekdays), Kieran Cuddihy identifies the glaring gulf in class that separates the two teams. England may have won the match by a four-goal margin, but in Cuddihy’s view they lost all moral authority when their captain, Harry Kane, didn’t wear a OneLove armband in protest against Qatar’s treatment of its LGBTQ+ community.
“Compare the cowardice of Harry Kane and his chums to the Iranian team they played against,” the host says scornfully, pointing to the Iranian footballers’ refusal to sing their national anthem in protest at the crackdown in their country. “They put certainly their freedom in peril, if not their actual lives.”
‘I can’t wait until Bashar al-Assad welcomes us to Damascus in 2034,’ Kieran Cuddihy says contemptuously
It’s a moot point whether Cuddihy has World Cup fever, but if he does, it’s of the jaundiced variety. As the controversial soccer tournament kicks off, the presenter is less exercised by what happens on the pitch than by the behind-the-scenes shenanigans. On Monday, he talks to the soccer reporter Miguel Delaney about the “measly” armband protest “melting away at the thought of getting a yellow card”, while the following day he speaks to the sports journalist Dion Fanning about the kowtowing of Fifa to autocratic regimes, expressing particular indignation at the possibility of Saudi Arabia hosting the World Cup in 2030. “I can’t wait until Bashar al-Assad welcomes us to Damascus in 2034,” he says contemptuously.
Amid the righteous anger, the host is obviously enjoying himself as he excoriates proceedings in Qatar. But Cuddihy also captures the queasiness that lingers over soccer’s showcase tournament even as stunning upsets occur on the field. It’s evident even on sports bulletins. On Tuesday’s Morning Ireland (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), the former Ireland captain Kenny Cunningham abruptly shifts from chirpy chat to earnest reflection when asked about the abandoned armband protest. Though not a fan of on-field political gestures, Cunningham thinks that, having declared their intentions, Kane and his fellow international skippers should have followed through with their actions. No matter who ultimately triumphs in this tainted World Cup, football isn’t the winner, at least going by the mood on the airwaves.
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There’s a far more resonant display of moral fibre when Colm O’Gorman discusses the latest clerical-abuse revelations with Brendan O’Connor (RTÉ Radio 1, Saturday and Sunday). Appearing on O’Connor’s Sunday newspaper panel, the executive director of Amnesty International Ireland describes his “rage and devastation” on hearing the recent Documentary on One about sexual abuse in Blackrock College. O’Gorman is furious that 20 years after suing the Ferns diocese over the abuse he suffered at the hands of Fr Seán Fortune, similarly horrific stories are still emerging. “Why are we dependent on people whose lives have been broken, going on national airwaves, as we did in 2002, revealing horribly traumatic, deeply personal, painful things?”
O’Gorman decries the institutions that allowed such horrors to flourish, not only the Catholic authorities that protected paedophile priests but also the State for its “piecemeal approach” to such crimes. Moreover, he draws a parallel between those who have come forward to report clerical abuse and the determination of the late Vicky Phelan to uncover the extent of the CervicalCheck cancer scandal. “We need to stop depending on the courage of victims of violations to cause us to look at our own failings,” O’Gorman says, his despair palpable despite his calm tone. “We have to start talking about the cowardice of our society and not the courage of the victims.”
The Sunday newspaper panel has been revived under Brendan O’Connor’s tenure: it is the lively fulcrum of his weekend shows rather than a heritage fixture retained for tradition’s sake
O’Connor wisely holds back in the face of this searing statement, a change from the provocative garrulousness with which he usually conducts affairs, while the remainder of the discussion seems almost flat in comparison. But such moments underline how the newspaper panel has been revived under O’Connor’s tenure: it is the lively fulcrum of his weekend shows rather than a heritage fixture retained for tradition’s sake.
Taken alongside high-profile interviews – a good-natured conversation with Bruce Springsteen brings A-list sparkle to proceedings, if few startling disclosures – it helps explain why O’Connor’s Sunday show has increased its audience in the past year, bucking the industrywide decline in ratings. More crucially, O’Gorman provides listeners with unsettling but urgent food for thought, though whether the rest of us have the courage of his convictions is another matter. As the World Cup demonstrates, it’s easier to talk about principles than act on them.
A more relaxed air prevails on For the Record (RTÉ Gold, Sundays), where the nearest thing to a moral dilemma is whether to buy music on vinyl or – heaven forfend – CD. Pat O’Mahony’s series has the presenter rifling through the record collections of sundry celebrities and observing the Proustian reactions that follow, with enjoyable results. Having previously showcased the actor Bronagh Gallagher’s love of soul music and outing the chef Neven Maguire’s unlikely early side career as a house DJ, the latest edition sees O’Mahony visit the home of Lillian Smith, weekend host of RTÉ Radio 1′s Rising Time.
Smith’s lightly worn musical knowledge and easygoing manner make for an engaging encounter, as O’Mahony quizzes his guest about her evolving tastes and, crucially, whether she prefers digital or analogue formats. (Spotify is barely mentioned.) The bulk of her collection is on CD, but as she plays some of her favourite LPs the occasional crackle of vinyl contributes to the informal atmosphere, as well as adding an audio treat for listeners of a certain vintage and inclination.
By turns wryly nostalgic and quietly stimulating, O’Mahony’s series is perfect comfort listening. The only thing that might improve it would be a slot on the airwaves of, say, Radio 1 rather than the digital realm of RTÉ Gold, just to complete the analogue analogy. Either way, compared with the politics of sport, music seems like a simple pleasure.
