
Tackling build costs is the real game-changer
C ompromise rules was the name originally given to a game concocted in the 1980s by the powers-that-be in Australian rules football and the GAA. Its invention facilitated a long-haul jolly every couple of years for blazers, players and the media. Ireland travelled to Australia, then the Aussies came up here.
Now known as international rules, and returning this year after an eight-year hiatus, it is a makey-uppy mash-up of two sports that invariably ends in a punch-up. Great entertainment.
The government's updated regime of rent controls, unveiled last week, is a type of compromise rules. It attempts to temper roaring rent inflation and at the same time reinvigorate stagnant residential property investment.
It was never going to please all, and led to an inevitable ideological dust-up in the Dail and on the airwaves. With a few wrinkles ironed out, it is at least a stab at a model of rent regulation. In the current febrile political atmosphere, however, all that really matters is whether the initiative results in more housing, or more importantly lower rents. Neither is likely.
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The Guardian
26 minutes ago
- The Guardian
Rory McIlroy's indifference is understandable after achieving his dream
A snapshot of Rory McIlroy's new normal arrived the day before the US PGA Championship began. McIlroy's practice round at Quail Hollow was watched by more than 50, inside the ropes. Journalists, content creators, wannabe content creators … everyone wanted not just a glimpse – you can get that from the bleachers – but a piece of golf's latest grand slam man. McIlroy played a hole while being interviewed for the tournament's main preview show. All soft, knock-around stuff but inevitably a distraction. It was difficult to shake the notion that Tiger Woods would never have tolerated such a scenario. It is also thankfully a truism that McIlroy is not Tiger Woods. The Northern Irishman's chatty, warm personality endears him to so many. In a non-tribal sport people root for Rory, none more so than at Augusta National when more that a decade of frustration ended amid euphoric April scenes. Hardened men shed tears in a media centre, no less. In Pittsburgh, you needn't go far to encounter complaint at the long-term decline of the Pittsburgh Pirates. Even an iconic ballpark cannot pull in the masses any more. A few miles away at Oakmont, golf's chattering classes have a gripe of their own; Rory McIlroy and a refusal to engage as before with the media. It is a preposterous discussion on one level, as if four minutes of quotes after a 75 somehow impacts McIlroy's legacy as much as Masters glory. Yet it is also an intriguing one, if only when assessing why the 36-year-old turned mute. The simple answer is McIlroy is irritated, not unreasonably, after giving the very people now sniping probably the greatest story they will ever report upon. None of them were in New Orleans for McIlroy's first post-Masters appearance, where the five-time major winner was perfectly expansive. Within two days of McIlroy being pursued by all and sundry at Quail Hollow, news emerged that his driver had failed a routine conformance test. This was a clumsy situation, largely on account of a needlessly secretive process but it was McIlroy's name alone that surfaced. It did via a partner broadcaster, which will have turned heads in Camp McIlroy. Conspiracy theorists ignored the fact he was 175th on the PGA Tour's driver accuracy table heading into the US PGA. There is a reason a seven-iron sits in McIlroy's display cabinet in Augusta's champions locker room. Headlines subsequently surrounded McIlroy's failure to play the Memorial tournament in Ohio. The event had never appeared on McIlroy's schedule in the first place. Far more significant than McIlroy not advertising his plans is that he deems big events on the PGA Tour worthy of skipping. McIlroy has spoken about scaling down his playing commitments in the US; he will instead appear in India and Australia in 2025. The US-obsessed PGA Tour should be concerned by its biggest draw's dream of a properly global sport. Sportspeople often speak of regret having not enjoyed their highest highs. With Green Jacket in tow, McIlroy headed to England and Northern Ireland. He did the chatshow circuit in New York. Presumably he found the Europa League final as tedious as the rest of us but he made sure he had a front-row seat in Bilbao. The resetting of goals, the hitting of more greens, can wait. Few people know what on earth it is like to wake up one morning knowing the only thing that has got you out of bed for the last 10 years is now on your CV. A McIlroy psychological adjustment from this position is as necessary as it may be difficult. McIlroy is cheesed off that he is not playing well – a matter only exaggerated at Oakmont's brutal setup – when there is an abundance of rationale behind that. He is out of competitive sync. 'It's really hard to describe to somebody that hasn't really lived through it,' explained Scottie Scheffler. 'When I woke up after [winning] the PGA Championship this year, I literally felt like I got hit by a bus. I felt terrible. Mentally it is exhausting, physically it is a grind. I can only imagine how Rory felt after winning the career grand slam.' After his third round at this US Open, he stood before the media when giving the impression he would rather be undergoing root canal treatment. He had skipped post-round duties for the previous six rounds in a row, only one of which was sub-70. Until the tournament obligates players to talk when requested – which is precisely what they should do – McIlroy can demonstrate his general annoyance in this way. Golf's clickbait modern media world means McIlroy has no scope to speak on an off-the-record basis. 'I feel like I've earned the right to do whatever I want to do,' McIlroy said. His wording here was unusually clumsy, making him look entitled; which he is not. Even when trying to pay lip service, McIlroy cannot stop turning heads. His admission that he didn't care whether he made the Oakmont cut was as brutally honest as it was striking. McIlroy has been irritated by elements of the media before. Last summer, he changed his phone number after untimely and intrusive messages asking for his thoughts on losing by a shot to Bryson DeChambeau at the US Open. McIlroy has never really explained his famous 'if you want to be in the circus, you have to put up with the clowns' comment of more than a decade ago but it appeared a pointed reference to press speculation. Despite these and other minor rumbles, McIlroy has been great for reporters; a constant source of news and unfailingly helpful towards those with whom he has built up proper relationships. The sporting public will remember McIlroy's wondrous shot into the 15th at Augusta on Masters Sunday. They will recall a young man beating the turf on the 18th green while in floods of joyous tears. The media has played a part in McIlroy's profile and undoubtedly will do again. It is just that turning indifference from the golfer towards some of that group as a huge deal or grave error at this particular point in time feels needlessly self-aggrandising.


The Sun
35 minutes ago
- The Sun
Ally McCoist sets off on gruelling charity ride around Ireland despite his bike BREAKING DOWN just days before
ALLY McCOIST is back in the saddle for his latest charity cycle event – but only after dealing with a few worrying mechanical issues first! The Scotland and Rangers icon headed off from Belfast this morning to take on the 555-mile, six-day ride around Ireland as part of the Doddie'5 Lions Challenge. 5 5 5 Joining McCoist in the fundraising effort are Scotland rugby great Kenny Logan, his wife and broadcaster, Gabby, former rugby stars Mel Deane and Will Greene and actor Jamie Bamber. The group will cover up to 100 miles a day in memory of Scotland legend Doddie Weir, who sadly passed away in 2022, and to raise money for research into motor neurone disease. So far, the challenge has raised more than £300,000 for the My Name'5 Doddie Foundation and the Irish Motor Neurone Disease Association, with hopes of hitting the £500,000 mark before the final leg. The ride will finish in Dublin on Friday where the team will deliver the match ball to the Aviva Stadium ahead of the British and Irish Lions' clash with Argentina. Logan says McCoist – who also took part in the 2023 charity cycle from Edinburgh to Paris - will fill the role again of trying to keep everyone's spirits up during the gruelling ordeal. But he revealed his close pal nearly never made it all – because he kept fiddling with his bike's settings! Logan said: 'Ally's been out and about but his bike broke down the other day. 'I told him not to trust himself to check the batteries on his fancy gears – someone else needs to do that for him! 'We've lost a few to injury and it just shows how demanding this is going to be. 'I'm not going to lie – I've had my own aches and pains. Rangers legend Ally McCoist labelled 'Scotland's James Bond' as he takes an Easter dip in freezing cold loch 'No major injuries thankfully, but I've definitely been reminded why I probably shouldn't be moving this much at my age! 'I'm most nervous about the hills. 'I convinced myself Ireland was flat – it's definitely not. But nerves are good. 'I've always had them before a big challenge, and it means I care.' This year's event is both a tribute to Weir and a rallying cry to continue his legacy. 5 5 Logan added: 'The support's been incredible. 'We've still got time to push, and every penny counts. 'Since Doddie died, awareness has grown massively – but we still need to fund research. 'The Foundation has committed nearly £20 million already, which is phenomenal, but it's only the beginning. 'Doddie would be proud – but he'd be telling us to go further and faster. 'That's why we're doing this.' Seven Scots are in the Lions squad for the tour after Zander Fagerson withdrew due to injury. Logan admits he's disappointed winger Darcy Graham never got the nod – but thinks there might be time yet for the Edinburgh flier to make the plane to Australia. He added: 'I still think Darcy will go – there's a lot of rugby to be played between now and then, and there will be injuries. 'We've seen that with Zander missing out already. 'Overall it's great to see so many Scots in the squad – they'll be out to make their mark in Australia and put down a marker for the Test team.' All funds raised will support the Foundation's mission to find effective treatments – and ultimately a cure – for motor neurone disease.


The Guardian
2 hours ago
- The Guardian
Bailey Smith hits the right note at Geelong but he is no showstopper
Bailey Smith could easily have coasted along against Essendon on the weekend. He could have racked up a few dozen disposals for Geelong and saved his hamstrings for the far more onerous challenge of Brisbane this Friday. But that's not how he's wired. Everything is at full throttle. There is not a lot of craft or guile to how he plays. He simply runs the opposition into the ground. With apologies to Shane Crawford and Robert Harvey, he runs harder than any footballer I can remember. Prior to his knee injury at Western Bulldogs, Smith had been gradually squeezed out of favour. The coach Luke Beveridge didn't quite know what to do with him. The fanbase was increasingly frustrated with him. He was a hard footballer to place. He was a subdued, resentful figure. The ACL in many ways clarified things. Smith was barely at the club during rehab. 'A lonely, shitty period,' he called it. He was training on his own. He led an interesting social life. Relationships with teammates and the coach were fractured, perhaps forever. The Dogs were in an early season rut and he was swanning about with his shirt off in the European summer. Understandably, it rubbed a few of them up the wrong way. They'd protected him and tolerated him. Now he was singing off with a very strange Instagram post; 'To those praying for my downfall, thank you.' It was probably best for everyone that he left. The Bulldogs and Cats are two very different midfields, and Smith and his coach ultimately struggled to find his right fit. Beveridge was overloaded with midfielders, and the Cats were crying out for one. His personality and his game wasn't suited to being a fourth or fifth stringer. Since changing clubs, so many ridiculous things have been said and written about Smith. Here's Steve Crawley, the managing director of Fox Sports, speaking to The Age recently; 'Big-time sports need show-stoppers like Bailey Smith. Think [David] Beckham. Think Pat Cash at 18 with the bandana, Tiger Woods, think David Warner. Mortals are OK, but superheroes are better. He is Shane Warne-like.' I mean, just settle yourself down! Smith isn't really a showstopper at all. He's a grinder. He's an accumulator. He's a death-by-a-thousand-cuts footballer. And clearly, if a recent podcast is any indication, he's caught between being Crawley's 'superhero' and the frankly pretty boring life of a professional footballer – eat, sleep, train, sauna, cold plunge, rack up 41 touches, repeat. Some of the language Smith used on the Real Stuff podcast would be familiar to anyone who suffers extreme anxiety – 'obsessive', 'perfectionist', and so on. As early as year 10 at school, he had injuries from overtraining and even a bout of pneumonia he says was caused by stress. In every article I read about Smith, the word 'complex' bobs up. We write about him like he's Hamlet. But in this interview, I simply heard a young man who's still figuring out who he is, who needs to be well managed, who's still learning how to manage himself. To his credit, he called out a lot of the analysis of the game, calling it 'toxic'. It can only help that he got out of Melbourne. If ever someone needed a bit of peace and quiet, it's him. It would be ever better if he got off his phone. But of course, that's the great paradox of his life. He has built his brand on that phone. Other influencers or fitness models of a similar social media reach would encounter all sorts of negativity and trolling. But there are many different layers when it comes to what Smith would cop – 17 supporter bases willing him to fail, a governing body that will fine him without hesitation, imbeciles screaming at him from over the fence, taggers, his former club, and an entire industry of analysis shows designed to pick apart, scold and rein him in. Sign up to From the Pocket: AFL Weekly Jonathan Horn brings expert analysis on the week's biggest AFL stories after newsletter promotion With Bailey Smith, it has always been about something else other than football. It has always been about the brand, the monkey mind, the fireside chats, the abs, the smartassery, the sculptural miracle of the hair, the petty offences. However, he has been an outstanding footballer at Geelong. He resembles Fabio and still occasionally kicks like him, but given the frantic, full pelt way his new team seeks to play, the odd stray kick isn't necessarily a bad thing. Watching someone like Scott Pendlebury play footy is like settling into a pair of old slippers. Watching Smith is very different. The hyperactivity of his game can make it seem as though he is constantly on the verge of blowing up, of running out of batteries. You worry about him but there he is, moving like a shovel snouted lizard, notching up his 41st possession, and moving into Brownlow medal favouritism.