Road to ruin: West Cork stand-off raises stakes in bid to save road bowling

Stakes are waged with relish, scores keenly contested with thousands of pounds, now euros, changing hands as legends of the game like Mick Barry, and Ulster’s Danny McParland and Michael Toal hold the crowds, three deep, in thrall.

If the stake could mount to five figures for the heavyweight scores, the side bets between friends are as much a part of the experience for those watching on. It’s seldom anyone went home sour or in penury.

Until now.

As so many sports have been seduced into the embrace of the professional oddsmakers, so too, it seems, has the grand old game that dates back to the 17th century. Private layers with deep pockets are threatening to muscle their way into road bowling and take the power from the players – and literally the winnings from their pockets.

Its manifestation last weekend in Lyre, near Clonakilty in West Cork, home of the legendary Gretta Cormican, left no-one in any doubt that road bowling’s terms of engagement have changed irrevocably. And not for the better.

One of the game’s stellar names, Thomas Mackle from Armagh – a nephew of Michael Toal - was down to face Fermoy’s Arthur McDonagh for the Mother Hegarty Cup.

By common consent, they are the two best bowlers in the country. The stage was set. It is estimated that Mackle brought up to €10,000 for McDonagh’s backers to match, which they were happy to do.

However it soon emerged that someone else was calling the odds from the roadside.

Road bowling’s rules of engagement are as old as the game itself: two players make up a stake from their own resources and those backing them to win.

The accumulated amount – regularly reaching into thousands of euros - is given to the referee, who pays the winner the full pot (minus 5% for administration and the local club). It’s essentially odds of evens and it’s a system that has worked forever.

However, the creeping infiltration of serious punters has been as obvious as it has been concerning in recent years, especially post-covid. These individuals are not the slick, corporate betting machines so prevalent in the sponsorship and advertising around big-time sport. But they have made it their business to take over laying the odds and depowering the stars of the game.

And they have left Bol Cumann na Eireann with a massive fight to save the game.

Once spectators take advantage of the better odds on offer, the players have nothing to stake with.

A well-placed expert explained the Lyre stand-off: “Thomas Mackle drove 300 miles to come and play in Lyre, a repeat of an All-Ireland final from a couple of years ago. Mackle is cock of the walk in road bowling, the key player, but on Sunday he discovered he couldn’t get a bet. The referee went to (Arthur) McDonagh, and was told ‘I can’t gather any money because that fella is giving odds to anyone who wants to back Mackle’. Basically, Mackle’s stake couldn’t be balanced by McDonagh.”

A victory for either bowler would have netted them thousands of euro, but the unwelcome interference of a third party meant neither bowler was the real winner.

So Mackle essentially pulled the handbrake. He may say otherwise but he certainly altered his trusted bowling technique to ensure his proficiency around the roads of Lyre was fatally compromised.

“He played, he went through the motions. And he was ensuring, at the same time, that the big punter who had waged heavily on him got a bit of a scalding. It was a line in the sand, the first manifestation of player power in the game of road bowling.

“It was taking the piss,” another source told the Irish Examiner. 

Mackle was essentially taking back control, saying if you are going to mess around with me, I can mess around too. 

"It was immediately evident to the crowd, the roads around Lyre were like a funeral. Folk just walked out the road and were talking about nothing else. Two thirds of the way through the score, Mackle shakes the hand and says that’s enough.”

The controversy has been building, and Mackle – the game’s biggest name – has brought it to a head and dropped it into the lap of the game’s governing body.

Should he be sanctioned? The charge, if any, is of not trying. But has he done the game of road bowling a service in the process? It’s a grey area and has taken the organisation into uncharted and treacherous waters.

“It’s like a GAA player downing tools, for better conditions, but you also had people then saying ‘how dare they do that, the cheek of them’.

Bol Cumann na Eireann may find it difficult to hold back the tide of gambling and its sophisticated ways, but without the players, there is no game. However it also stirs the debate on what kind of road bowling the organisation wants for its future generations.

Road bowling takes place on public roads, and there is no entry price. Paying its players via the stake is how road bowling has always been. The players are responsible for the stake, it’s their score. But this development is taking control from the players and putting it in the hands and pockets of third parties.

So who are these big-time punters looking to capitalise and cash in on an old, rural Irish ritual? There are a handful working the road bowling circuit in Munster, all well known to spectators, but are they doing anything that will interest the law?

Mackle has addressed in a very public way what everyone else around the game has been talking about. He has taken a stand and refused to be commodified for others to make money off. He didn’t hide what he was doing either. It was an open challenge to the bookies and the game’s authorities - save the game of road bowling as we know it.