So where on earth were you watching last Saturday afternoon when Rhys McClenaghan went where no Irish athlete has gone before?
A first at last – second to none – his moment of glory was on an entirely new level, even for a country fabled for its alleged ability to punch above its weight. In the books and on the stage, in between the tracks and the trails, while others have paved the way, there can only ever be one who isn’t just “another”.
Safe to say too it’s the first time a country of our size has beaten the reigning World champions in one sport (rugby) and crowned a first World champion in another sport (gymnastics) within the space of a few hours. The win over South Africa at the Aviva came after, but what came shortly before set the mood.
Because Rhys – who from here on, like Katie, Kellie, Rory and Sonia, is on a first-name basis – had been holding out a while for his moment too, even if still a boyish 23. When, as a teenager, he won a first gold medal for Ireland in the very long history of gymnastics, that most popular of Olympic sports, he promised us it was only the beginning.
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It was over four years later, at a packed Bank Arena in Liverpool on Saturday afternoon, when he got to fulfil what he meant by that, winning a first global medal for the country with his breathtaking performance in the pommel horse final at the 2022 World Championships.
There is something else which sets Rhys apart from our other world champions over the years. Trace the trail, from Barry McGuigan to Bernard Dunne, from Eamonn Coughlan to Derval O’Rourke, from Denis Taylor to Ken Doherty, and we think of them in their sporting arena with an opponent either right there beside them, or else somewhere in front or behind.
Same as our other world champions so far this year. At the women’s boxing World Championships in Istanbul back in early May, where both Amy Broadhurst and Lisa O’Rourke struck gold, we could see them battle their opponents up close and personal, and we knew exactly what they needed to do in order to win; which they did, Broadhurst first at light-welterweight, then O’Rourke at light-middleweight.
At the rowing World Championships on the calm waters of Račice on the outskirts of Prague in late September, Paul O’Donovan and Fintan McCarthy won another gold medal in the lightweight double sculls. We could see them pass nearest rivals Italy – second again there as in the European Championships six weeks previous – while other rivals such as the hopeful young Swiss crew fell further and further behind.
Indeed O’Donovan is now a five-time World champion, and since partnering with McCarthy in 2019 the Skibbereen duo have won World, European and Olympics titles all while pulling away. They were in familiar territory, and they now appear like they can win these events any which way they like.
When Rhys stepped up in front of the pommel house shortly after three o’clock on Saturday he was in territory entirely on his own. Yes, he had two opponents go before, and another five to go after, but he was ultimately performing on his own terms, in his own head, in his own moment, reliant on his own immeasurable core and upper-body strength and skillset required for this most testing of sporting disciplines. It’s a rare thing even for an individual sport to be so isolated like that in any quest for glory.
And there’s even more to it than that. Few sporting disciplines anywhere demand such high levels of physicality and technicality, that perfect execution and absolute strength of mind, each pressed against the other. One simple mistake and the whole thing crashes. Seemingly relishing that pressure, Rhys scored 15.300 (with 6.400 for difficulty, 8.900 for execution) – the highest mark in any pommel horse event anywhere this year.
Tokyo flashed before my eyes twice during his routine. Rhys went to those delayed Olympics last year with self-declared high hopes of a medal, and became the first Irish gymnast to make a final, only to lose control of the handles after just 10 seconds, twice falling chest-first onto the horse. He finished up seventh. Had Tokyo flashed once before his eyes last Saturday, something similar might have happened again.
They call his sport artistic gymnastics for a reason. You can show all the determination and desire in world, only it better be pretty. Showing complete focus and control throughout, Rhys never once lost momentum over the course of his 45-second routine, raising both arms after a brilliantly executed double-turn on his dismount, a release of relief perhaps as much as anything else. He didn’t win a single cent for his effort either.
In true Zen experience (the only Zen you find on the tops of mountains is the Zen you bring up there) Rhys was utterly reliant on intuition. When in 1974, after five years and 121 rejections, Robert Pirsig found a publisher for Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, he admitted he’d playfully lifted his title from Zen in the Art of Archery, published by German philosophy professor Eugen Herrigel in 1948.
That was based on his experiences studying Kyudo, a form of Japanese archery, when living in Japan in the 1920s. Zen in the Art of Archery in turn influenced Tim Gallwey’s classic The Inner Game of Tennis, also published in 1974, Herrigel and Gallwey both approaching sport and life as opportunities for learning inner co-operation.
That perfect inner co-operation is essentially what saw Rhys through last Saturday. When after his return we talked at the National Gymnastics training centre on Tuesday morning he spoke about looking forward to going home to Newtownards and “being human” for a week or two, before his long and lonely routine begins all over again.
“It’s part of the deal, my life is gymnastics. There are certainly sacrifices that come with it, but it is all for the greater good. I know in the general public an Olympic medal is more valuable, in a sense, but there are people with Olympic medals that have never had a World gold. It’s just as difficult, it’s everyone in the world competing for this medal, same as in the Olympics... but I also want that Olympic medal.”
Which would be another example of Rhys going where no Irish athlete has gone before. A true first – second to none.
