It was a Yeatsian occasion. The GAA's annual Congress may rarely count as great drama but faced with the opportunity to act in a spirit of generosity, the association duly emulated those old Abbey audiences and disgraced itself yet again. Twelve hours after being handed £60 million of public money, the GAA was happy to take the money and lock the gates of Croke Park.

If there was any consolation, it was in the extraordinary tightness of the margin. Director general Liam Mulvihill expressed surprise on Saturday evening at how far the pendulum had swung on the issue. From being a strictly minority view, the repeal of Rule 42 now looks inevitable but for another year at least, the association has to live with this regressive provision on its books.

On the eve of the debate, it was obvious what was at stake. One delegate spoke of the PR disaster that would break if the motion were defeated. There was a strong appreciation that the isolationist image of the GAA did the association few favours.

Talking to a journalistic colleague, The Irish Times suggested that the positive atmosphere generated by the Government bonanza might benefit the motion. "You mean they'll be magnanimous about it?" Laughter all around.

On Saturday afternoon the arguments were made. The financial aspect never really arose, so the influence of the £60 million was hard to assess, but when you've won the lotto, you'll place less emphasis on renting out rooms.

The language used defined the parameters. Proponents spoke of "generosity", "openness", "self-confidence" and "putting the Failte Isteach sign over Croke Park". Opposition arguments referred to "the thin end of the wedge", the necessity for (in an uncomfortable echo of that old apologia for apartheid) "parallel development" of sports and at one stage urged delegates "to hold fast to the past".

There were also disingenuous suggestions that other sports neither wanted nor needed Croke Park now that the national stadium was on stream. No reference to what soccer and rugby would do in the next five years or to why other sports would request the use of a ground barred to them by rule.

Then there was the vote. Three hundred and nine delegates were registered but 44 didn't vote. Of those who did, 176 supported and 89 opposed the motion. One switched vote would have delivered the two-thirds majority. President Sean McCague was surprisingly adamant that he wouldn't countenance a recount. He probably had a point but conducting a vote of this nature on a show of hands is plainly daft.

One of those who had supported the motion said in the disappointed aftermath that you only had to look around to see what was wrong. He was referring to the average age of the congress delegates. Older and more conservative than the rank-and-file membership, annual Congress is still the GAA's supreme rule-making body.

How heavily this weighs on the average delegate is open to question. One opponent of the motion was accosted after the debate.

"What were you up to in there at all?"

"Sure soccer had their chance to build a stadium."

"What's that got to do with it? This was about the GAA making decisions."

"Ah look, I couldn't give a b****cks."

On such convictions swing great issues.