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The Grass Ceiling: On Being a Woman in Sport
256 pages, Paperback
Published July 1, 2024
About the author
Eimear Ryan
9 books95 followersEimear Ryan is the author of a novel, Holding Her Breath (2021) and a sports memoir, The Grass Ceiling (2023), both published by Sandycove.
Her short fiction has appeared in Granta, The Dublin Review, The Stinging Fly, The Long Gaze Back (New Island) and Town & Country (Faber). She is a co-founder of the literary journal Banshee and its publishing imprint, Banshee Press.
She is a sports columnist with the Irish Examiner and has written about women in sport for Literary Hub, The 42, Image, Stranger’s Guide, Winter Papers and elsewhere. She lives in Cork city.
Her short fiction has appeared in Granta, The Dublin Review, The Stinging Fly, The Long Gaze Back (New Island) and Town & Country (Faber). She is a co-founder of the literary journal Banshee and its publishing imprint, Banshee Press.
She is a sports columnist with the Irish Examiner and has written about women in sport for Literary Hub, The 42, Image, Stranger’s Guide, Winter Papers and elsewhere. She lives in Cork city.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
May 14, 2024
"This is the only way I know how to be brave: by being afraid first, then working in the opposite direction."
November 5, 2024
Tightly written, this was a slightly autobiographical discussion of women's sport in Ireland, that never stayed too long on one subject and was interesting on both an individual and wider level. Not once did I think a passage was needless or out of place.
Perhaps best of all, it managed to find the right balance between talking about women's sport seriously, but without needing to trumpet it. There were no claims that camogie players are more honest than their male equivalents, or that in many ways they are more X, it was assumed that it was a serious sport and deserved fair treatment of its athletes. The politics and unfairness of expenses were covered, but it covered the sport rather than advocated for it, which was refreshing, and what I'd hoped for.
Part of that may be the amateur nature of the Gaelic Association games, where the sport generates money to invest back into it, rather than to make money for club owners. It sounded as though the local clubs were very much part of the community rather than a space for sporty people to play matches at the weekend, but as an outsider the broad structure of the sport was easy enough to follow. However the amateur nature of the sport also makes discrimination even less justifiable, as it is to service its community.
There were many aspects of sport that were covered, and what struck me most was the commitment required, including the travelling home from cities at weekends and the sin of taking a holiday in summer. Ryan was a player at a high level, and I don't know how representative that was of all players, but it was nonetheless intense, while women's matches between codes often clashed - this seemed a particularly ludicrous imbalance, along with only the men getting (fiddled) expenses. The pain (literal and metaphorical) of injuries, the fear of missing out once retired, the changing nature of rural Ireland and the flight of young people to big cities was all discussed in a considered and interesting way.
The sections that felt most acute to me were those on the discomfort she felt about being an introvert in a sporting environment, being both quiet and feeling an outsider in terms of interests and talking points. As a woman, it was slightly different, in that camogie players had a reputation akin to female rugby players, rather than being the social winners at school, but the separation of her sports and arts friends was completely relatable. Her thoughts seemed heartfelt too, rather than a bit of branding for a sportsperson that reads more than just The Sun.
I never quite managed to place Ryan, who simultaneuously felt a bit out of place on teams yet seemed to have lots of friends in the game and lots of positive words to say about fellow players, but it was good enough that knowledge of the context wasn't really required, as long as you had a passing knowledge of the role of hurling and football in Ireland. It packed a lot into its 200 pages and her personal experiences were illustrative rather than self-indulgent.
Perhaps best of all, it managed to find the right balance between talking about women's sport seriously, but without needing to trumpet it. There were no claims that camogie players are more honest than their male equivalents, or that in many ways they are more X, it was assumed that it was a serious sport and deserved fair treatment of its athletes. The politics and unfairness of expenses were covered, but it covered the sport rather than advocated for it, which was refreshing, and what I'd hoped for.
Part of that may be the amateur nature of the Gaelic Association games, where the sport generates money to invest back into it, rather than to make money for club owners. It sounded as though the local clubs were very much part of the community rather than a space for sporty people to play matches at the weekend, but as an outsider the broad structure of the sport was easy enough to follow. However the amateur nature of the sport also makes discrimination even less justifiable, as it is to service its community.
There were many aspects of sport that were covered, and what struck me most was the commitment required, including the travelling home from cities at weekends and the sin of taking a holiday in summer. Ryan was a player at a high level, and I don't know how representative that was of all players, but it was nonetheless intense, while women's matches between codes often clashed - this seemed a particularly ludicrous imbalance, along with only the men getting (fiddled) expenses. The pain (literal and metaphorical) of injuries, the fear of missing out once retired, the changing nature of rural Ireland and the flight of young people to big cities was all discussed in a considered and interesting way.
The sections that felt most acute to me were those on the discomfort she felt about being an introvert in a sporting environment, being both quiet and feeling an outsider in terms of interests and talking points. As a woman, it was slightly different, in that camogie players had a reputation akin to female rugby players, rather than being the social winners at school, but the separation of her sports and arts friends was completely relatable. Her thoughts seemed heartfelt too, rather than a bit of branding for a sportsperson that reads more than just The Sun.
I never quite managed to place Ryan, who simultaneuously felt a bit out of place on teams yet seemed to have lots of friends in the game and lots of positive words to say about fellow players, but it was good enough that knowledge of the context wasn't really required, as long as you had a passing knowledge of the role of hurling and football in Ireland. It packed a lot into its 200 pages and her personal experiences were illustrative rather than self-indulgent.
May 21, 2024
This book means the world to me as a female athlete and coach.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews