SOMETIMES you hear or see heart-warming stories about famous footballers that challenge the enduring millionaire stereotype of them.
Take Rodri for instance. The Spanish international and Man City midfielder has no social media footprint. He has no tattoos so it’s easier for him to donate blood. When he was playing for Villarreal he lived in student halls while studying for a business degree at the same time.
And despite earning mega bucks, he donates a sizeable chunk to charity. He also bought a second-hand Vauxhall Corsa from an old lady. And so the story goes...
We can never be truly certain but we can hazard a guess that Rodri’s modest lifestyle isn’t the norm among highly paid professional footballers.
We often see clips on social media where famous players hand over their shirts to fans in the crowd. It costs nothing to be nice.
Their signatures are highly sought after too. Of course, they’re not obliged to sign anything as they often don’t know what they’re signing, whether it’s simply a keepsake for a fan - or if the alleged fan plans to profiteer from the autographed jersey.
The Arsenal mascot video, released by the club on social media after the Premier League leaders could only draw at West Ham last weekend, was a bit of a PR disaster.
The video shows the little girl holding out an Arsenal jersey to be signed by each passing Arsenal player as they exited the stadium via the corridor where she was waiting.
All the Arsenal players signed the jersey but didn’t so much as lift their heads to acknowledge that someone was actually holding the jersey.
Every second of the video was cringeworthy and, rightly or wrongly, depicted the Arsenal players – and indeed rich footballers in general – as living in a bubble, completely detached from reality and forgetting to smile or say 'hello' to a young fan.
Of course, they were disappointed to only draw 2-2 with Man City bearing down on them.
But still. Crack a smile. Then resume your disappointment as you leave the stadium.
It's become something of a tradition in the GAA where fans descend onto the field at the end of games to ask the players for 'selfies' and autographs.
Sometimes it's just to shake the hand of their hero.
Because that's exactly what GAA players are to many of these youngsters. Last season, the Antrim hurlers had lost in agonising circumstances to Waterford at Corrigan Park.
An integral part of our match-day duties is to interview players and managers after games. This is not an easy task, and gets more difficult with each passing inter-county season, and is sometimes impossible when a team loses a big game.
I often think, would I fancy having a tape-recorder thrust in my direction after I lost a game?
Probably not.
But a lot of inter-county players know the drill at this stage. They're used to the attention and are always entitled to decline the opportunity of telling Irish News readers just how on God's earth they missed that last-minute penalty.
A lot of GAA players, though, are very amenable in nearly all types of circumstances.
I waited as Antrim hurler Domhnall Nugent signed several dozen hurls and jerseys and smiled into what felt like a million mobile phone cameras just so the fans could have a keepsake of the day.
Nugent made sure every request was met - even though his team had just suffered a sickening defeat. Afterwards, he did a pitch-side interview and explained how he was "sick of near-misses".
You survey the pitch and every Antrim player that was asked for a 'selfie' or signature were still out on the field. Neil McManus saw his last-gasp penalty turned over the bar for a point. A goal and Antrim would have taken a share of the spoils.
And there he was seconds after the final whistle: surrounded by fans, young and old, smiling into their camera phones and then being asked by reporters about failing to raise a green flag in the dying moments of a quite tumultuous game.
Go and watch Armagh at The Athletic Grounds and it's on a completely different level.
You are talking a couple of thousand supporters, each of them wanting that photo, that signature, that handshake, that smile, that tiny bit of conversation from 'Soupy' Campbell or Rory Grugan or Aidan Forker that sends them home happy, just so that they can show their friends in school on Monday morning.
You could say that it's not too much to ask - and I suppose it isn't in the grand scheme of things - but the inter-county player who forgoes the team warm-down or delays the team de-brief in the changing room by 60 minutes to engage with the supporters is a crucial element the GAA should never lose sight of.
And it's often around an hour before players get back into the sanctity of the changing room, while us poor journalists wait in cold corridors, completely out of small talk and ham sandwiches, checking our watches and wondering will we ever get home on this night.
This pitch-side bedlam - and it is unashamed bedlam at times - won't be to every manager's liking and it may even put ideas in the heads of the GAA's top brass to stop such post-match interaction on the field.
But it's exactly these happy pitch invasions at the end of games that make the GAA different from other sports.
They are important displays of community spirit and vibrancy where a child's hero is always accessible.
Where smiles and signatures and handshakes cost nothing.
The Arsenal mascot video and the club's players signing the kid's jersey was a completely soulless business. The killjoys.
