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Some interesting comments & observations on GAA!

You know your a junior hurler / GAA shaper when....

Some useful phrases to help you understand the game of hurling.

101 reasons why the GAA is better than Soccer.

The many faces seen at your local GAA match

Classic Quotations from Micheál O Muircheartaigh

A Hurlers Prayer

The Memory Man

You know you are a Junior Hurler when ...

  • You spend all winter on the beer speculating on who will be brought in to manage the junior hurling team next year.
  • The hardest tackle you will make all year is in an indoor soccer match in January when you break your brother-in-law's leg.
  • There are 35 at training under lights on a bitter February night (unfit but enthusiastic) - the average for August is 7 (unfit, sick of training and making silage)
  • The club treasurer spends some time at the AGM lamenting the yearly cost of running a club and especially the bill for hurleys; a month later, the team is being urged to "give 'em timber lads - we have plenty of hurleys on the sideline..."
  • When you go for a pick-up, you tap the ball at least twice on the hurley before you fumble it
  • Ground hurling is for juveniles and camogie players
  • The full forward has his son and grandnephew in the corners
  • The grandnephew is two years older
  • For a 2.30 throw-in, you start packing your gear bag at 2.40 and still manage to be on the field before the referee even arrives
  • You can get a match called off because your star player is playing divisional under-16 the following week
  • Your tight marking corner back never gives an inch - except of course, when the ball gets inside his own 50 and he charges out after it with all the other backs, forgetting that the other team are even on the field.
  • Your goalie lets in a sitter every second game - this usually happens after you have scored 5 points from play to reel in a difficult half-time deficit or in the first minute if it is a final
  • Your full-forward can't score but "he's a good man to bust up the play"
  • Your centre forward can't score either but "he'll stop a good man from hurling"
  • Your championship is either a round robin that requires you to play six league games to eliminate one team, or a knockout starting in October
  • Any members of your panel that claim to have back injuries are either lazy or completely daft - unless you can see blood, bruises or bandages, they are making it up
  • Before every match, the forwards are told to stay wide and not bunch - but this is not what happens. The only time any forward goes wide is to take a sideline cut or if they are looking for water
  • Your backs play from behind waving a hurley with one hand whilst resting the other on the forward's back - this is why all your scores and all their scores come from frees
  • You can't field a team during the fortnight of the Leaving Cert
  • Your star player always has one other brother "that was even better but he couldn't stay off the drink"
  • Your left-corner-back plays at No.4 because he can only strike off his left side Ditto No.7
  • The more people instruct you to "let fly if you don't get it up the first time", the more you ignore them.

You know you are a GAA Shaper when ...

You wear white boots

You are the only guy with tanned legs on the team in April

You put gel in your hair before the game

You have bleached hair or a ponytail

You have to get a hair cut before every match

You wear your collar up to your ears

You have at least one life threatening injury per game

You hang around outside the dressing room after a match (still togged out) looking for people to tell you how good you played

You warm up looking into the crowd

You wear the latest range in thigh supports, knee bandages, etc when in reality there's shag all wrong with you.
You sulk every time you lose, you blame the pitch, the wind, the sun, the ball etc if you miss a chance (above all it was not your fault).

You complain that the backs never play good ball to you (you are always a forward becuase they score (backs get no glory), probably wing or corner (because you can pick up a handy score there and also wave to the crowd)) and if the selectors knew anything (which they don't) they would make you captain.

You insist on making yourself available for 2 championship matches on the same day

You threaten to quit the team cause the manager won't pick your brother

You wear your jersey over your togs and spend ages neatly fixing your socks before the game

You make your own speech in the dressing room after the captain and mentors have made their speeches

You leave in two soft goals...one dropped out of your hand....and you complain of a shoulder injury when trying to puck out the next couple of balls.

You wear white boots, white socks a white helmet with a white club jersey.

You walk to the dressing room at half time, while everyone else ran ,take off your helmet and start fixing up your hair before you reach the sideline.

You have something written on the bos of your hurley and showing in the team photograph before the game.

When once a game, you get shouldered straight in the face and are flattened, by a player who just ran forty yards to get ya.

Come to think of it, a tan at any time of the year

You keep running for 20-30 yards after getting a score even though you are about 5 yards from your position.

Stick out the chest (PJ O Connell style) while walking over to hit a sideline/take a free.

Your wearing the most expensive boots on the market and your the sub goalie.

When you are looking to take all the free's back as far as your own halfback line

When you wear shorts different from the rest of the team

When you have to have the longest shorts on the field

When you wear county togs instead of club togs (even if you just swopped for them or bought them)

When your save your best for those long lunging stretches in front of the crowd

When you have a different county or college match jersey every time you go training, with a number on the back.

When you insist on wearing such jerseys over a long-sleeved top during the cold months.


Some useful phrases to help you understand the game of hurling

Báite - eg "I gave it báite" - I put a fair bit of effort into it

Stomached - surprised eg. "Jays, when he came up behind me I was awful stomached"

Mighty - very good

Hames - a right mess - eg. "he made a hames of that clearance"

Timber - intimidation of a hurling opponent

Welt - swing at

Lamp - a good thump

A Crowd – e.g. "that crowd from Ardrahan are a right shower of shites"

Schkelp - a good thump

Bullin' - angry. eg. "the centre half back was bullin' after I lamped him"

Bull thick - very angry

Joult - a push

Joshel - a shoulder push

The Comm-it-eeee - Local GAA bullshitters in general

Bushted - eg. "Jayz me arm is bushted"

Bomber - a very popular nickname for a GAA player

A hang sangwidge - consumed with tay on the sides of roads after matches in Croker or Thurles.

Citeog - he hit it with his citeog. ie. left handed/footed

Warp - hit something hard as in "I'll f**kin' warp you"

Blast - A great amount of anything.

Rake - Also a great amount of anything, usually pints of Guinness

A Shamozzle - a group of players shkelpin' one another but not exactly hittin' anyone at the same time!

Flakin' - usually goes on for a whole game..... eg. "Jayz Mike Murphy gave Tony Delaney an awful flakin' below in training on Sunday". To "flake" a lad for a whole game usually starts off with a bit of the aforementioned "joshellin'" and "joultin'" and develops into a bit of "weltin'" and may even result in a good "lampin'" for the victim especially if he gets "bull thick".

Namajaysus - What was that for, referee?

Ya-bollix-ya - Corner back's formal recognition of a score by his opponent

Leh-it-in-ta-fuck-would-ya - Full forward's appeal to a midfielder for a more timely delivery of the pass

Mullocker - untidy or awkward players

Horsed - bout of rough play or intimidatory tactics as in “we horsed them out of it

Horse - untidy or rough player. There's one in every club ( The Legendary “Horse” Delaney)

Row - Fight involving four or more players swinging hurleys like lunatics

Massive Row - Row involving both team,substitutes and supporters jumping fences

Running Row - A massive row that continues out in the parking area and/or dressing room areas

** Here's a few more you'd hear around Gurtagarry or Ballymackey **:

"Come up ta F*ck"- A corner back back trying to rise the ball .

"Lord Lantern Jaysus.." - "The next time you do that I'll f**kin kill ya"

"a hape" - A big quantity (Heap)

"in the paw" - To catch the ball.

"a Brawl" - A collection of bodies in disagreement with each other.

"a Dinger" - Usually a fast wing forward who can leave his opponent "for Dust".

"a right C*nt" - The Ref was a bit biased towards the other team.

101 reasons why the GAA is better than Soccer

1. Paul Gascoigne.
2. Fitzgerald Stadium Killarney on a sunny day is one of the loveliest sights in sport.
3. Bribery scandals.
4. Because the championship has always been the Championship. The League of Ireland has had more new improved formulas than most washing powders. Indeed it's not even the LOI anymore.
5. Because by and large GAA heroes don't turn into villains overnight. One week this column would have happily borne Eric Cantona's children. The next week Eric was playing with Manchester United and this column wouldn't give him the time of day. Same old Eric both weeks though.
6. Most GAA players lead fuller lives than your average pro soccer player, thus they have more to talk about and fewer clichés to use.
7. The PA announcer at Landsdowne Road soccer internationals need to be shot. We hate the Mexican wave.
8. Bohs never in anything anymore.
9. The offside rule can be really tedious.
10. Andy Gray.
11. Jimmy Hill.
12. Micheal O'Murchearaigh.
13. No GAA team would ever wear a strip as vile as Chelsea's away strip last season (1994 - 1995).
14. Nobody sings "you'll never beat the Irish" at GAA games.
15. When Jurgen Klingsmann did his witty diving celebration at the start of the English season every lame brain in the game did the same thing for three months. Why?
16. Since Dalymount decayed, professional Irish soccer has no place to call home despite two World Cups and a Euro Championship.
17. RTE would never foist Brendan O'Carroll on the GAA viewership.
18. There is no piece of sporting equipment available anywhere that is as lovely as a well crafted hurley.
19. Vinnie Jones would bawl like a baby if he ever came up against Brian Mullens (Brian McGilligain, Brian Corcoran..) And that's just three Brians that spring to mind.
20. If something goes wrong the GAA always comes up with some excuse. "The crowd arrived too early" "The cat was sick" In soccer nobody is ever to blame. Rioting in Landsdowne Road can be put down to what insurers call an act of God.
21. The GAA may not appreciate its women as much as it should but at least we all know who Angela Downey is. The most famous woman in English soccer is Dani Behr.
22. It's hard to feel passionate about any sport that John Major feels passionate about. Plus David Mellor never made love to anyone while wearing a GAA jersey.
23. "Clash of the Ash" was a lovely film about hurling. "Escape to Victory" was a soccer film with Pele and Sly Stallone in it.
24. Here we go. Here we go. Here we go. Here we go.
25. Spivs. Who asked DISC to ask Wimbledon to move to Dublin anyway.
26. People working for Irish soccer clubs who double as scouts for English clubs. Some mistake surely.
27. No soccer manager was ever as warm and as entertaining as Eamon Coleman.
28. No segregation at GAA matches.
29. No naff furry hats on men who should know better at soccer matches.
30. No naff jewellery on men who should know better at GAA matches.
31. There were 15,154 fans at Irelands last home World Cup game pre Jack Charlton. Now you couldn't squeeze all the "real" fans into the Maracana with a shoehorn.
32. The GAA player who performs in front of 70,000 at the weekend will be teaching your kids on Monday or he'll be selling you meat or fixing your drains or representing you in court. The soccer player who performs in front of 70,000 fans at the weekend will be moaning about too many games and trying to sell you his personalised brand of leisure wear.
33. GAA players don't sell stories to the Sun.
34. GAA players don't have stories that the Sun would like to buy.
35. Bungs.
36. Backpasses.
37. Barry Venison's dress sense.
38. Jack Walker can buy a league title. You can't buy an All-Ireland.
39. Penalty shootouts. What was wrong with the old interminable FA cup replay sagas eg Leeds and Ipswitch 1975. Heartbreaking but memorable.
40. Jack Boothman doesn't care if America doesn't like GAA. Joao Havelange loses sleep over it.
41. Nobody ever proposed making GAA goals bigger. Not even Charlie Redmond.
42. GAA nicknames are better: Sambo Hunter, Fat Larry, Babs, Bingo and so on. Soccer players just add a Y to each others surnames.
43. The Munster Hurling Final.
44. The Munster Football Final.
45. Dublin vs Meath is a real local derby. What does Liverpool vs Everton mean to Jan Molby or Daniel Amokachi.
46. You always remember what county your Irish teacher came from.
47. We care so much about the weaker GAA counties that we sensitively refer to them as the "so called weaker counties". English soccer just makes the premier league smaller.
48. How many soccer players does it take to change a light bulb? Eleven. One to stick it in. ten to hug and kiss him afterwards.
49. Why can nobody agree on the size of the crowd at domestic soccer games.
50. Under age players get to be part of the biggest days in hurling and football. The Irish U21 team are sadly neglected. The "real' fan seldom turn up to see them.
51. Soccer players go to Rumours. GAA players go to the pub.
52. If a GAA player ever jumped at a spectator like Eric Cantona did the rest of his team would join in. So would the rest of the crowd.
53. You can't play a defensive game of football or hurling.
54. Razzmatazz. OK the Artane Boys band may be boring but why does it take Sky 3 hours to show a 90 minute soccer game.
55. Soccer players always describe the game they have just played in the same guarded way. There is nothing like a GAA player cutting loose "He ate the shite out of us" said an Offaly player of Eamon Cregans half time speech in last years All Ireland.
56. The championship means summer. The FA (or FAI) Cup means winter.
57. DJ Carey in full flight.
58. Barry Fry, Ken Bates, Ron Noades, Robert Chase. Take your pick.
59. Television runs soccer. Schoolteachers run the GAA.
60. Vinnie Jones grabbed Gascoignes testicles. Paudie O'Se decked Joe McNally during the National Anthem. McNally learnt his lesson. Gascoigne just got worse.
61. Joe Brolly in full flight, on the field or off it.
62. Jimmy Barry Murphy was the coolest skinhead ever to grace a playing field.
63. There's nothing like seeing the bonfires blazing when a winning team reaches it's home borders.
64. The GAA season always leaves you wanting more. The soccer season leaves soccer people demanding less. Fewer games please.
65. Three points for a win is a distortion of the games natural balance.
66. "Soccer isn't a matter of life and death, it's much more important than that" isn't such a witty thing to have said.
67. The GAA is just a part of life and death.
68. Gaelic Games is harder to play. Niall Quinn and Kevin Moran got out and went to soccer. You never see anyone coming the other direction.
69. GAA players run faster, hit harder and last longer. Nobody acts like a grenade just went off if they get tripped.
70. Soccer is so subtle that Wimbledon can win the FA cup.
71. There's no one quite so bitter as a soccer bigot.
72. They think Ryan Giggs is the new George Best. Sure sign of decline.
73. GAA teams are numbered one to fifteen, soccer teams read like the national lottery results.
74. All soccer players wear shinguards. Some hurling players even wear helmets.
75. Ever penny we put into soccer stays at the top. Most of what we spend on GAA trickles down.
76. The GAA is about where you're from. Soccer is mainly about who you like.
77. A scoreless draw in GAA would be quite a novelty.
78. The GAA offer a journalist the chance to travel to Kerry regularly.
79. The GAA won't sell us all out by starting a European SuperLeague.
80. Under 13,000 fans attended the FAI Cup final. "Real" fans would rather watch Wimbledon play AN other at a new characterless stadium built by suits for suits.
81. Old soccer players get testimonials, Old GAA players just slip down to junior. Dog rough it is too.
82. Bubble perms never made it to Croke Park.
83. Throw ins set the adrenalin pumping faster than tip offs.
84. GAA fans never have time for the Mexican wave.
85. Rupert Murdoch doesn't own the GAA.
86. Ghosted soccer biographies.
87. All of soccer works to filter the best players to the top teams. GAA sides always get to keep their heroes.
88. Dual players still carry a certain romantic cachet.
89. The Dergvate, Gay Priors pub, Tommy Tubridy's, The Bradog, The Drovers, MacGleogans, The Pound Bar, Mc Sweeney's.
90. No soccer team has a name quite as lovely as that belonging to Fighting Cocks of Carlow.
91. Danny Lynch. The thinking person's PR man.
92. The InterToto Cup. The ZDS Date Cup, The Simod Trophy.
93. Guinness ISN'T inscribed in large letters on the Liam McCarthy Cup. Carling IS inscribed in large letters on the Premier league trophy.
94. Doubling on an overhead sliotar is a more beautiful thing than volleying a soccer ball.
95. Roy of the Rovers was a prat.
96. GAA goalposts cast nicer shadows on summer evenings.
97. There are always two men in white coats behind each goal at GAA games. Very wise.
98. The new Cusack stand. We call it space age.
99. Sideline cuts, high catches, summer schools to define the tackle.
100. The Dubs.
101. The Championship is here again.

The many faces seen at your local GAA match

Just as footballers can be classified as either defenders, forwards or goalkeepers, so fans can be categorised into certain broad stereotypes.

The study has shown that supporters can be categorised into groups:

The Cloth Cap Brigade:
These are a band of men who enjoyed their heyday at the turn of the century. They are avid supporters. The Cloth Cap Brigade are easily identified because they make a very distinctive call which sounds something like “giveherlang giveherlangferchrissakes”. This means kick the ball as hard and as far down the pitch as you can. The Cloth Caps have nothing against the O’Dwyer revolution and the modern game. They just don’t think it will work for their team. All Cloth Caps are waiting for their messiah. The ‘chosen one’ will be a seven foot tall full-forward with hands like shovels. Standing at the edge of the square the messiah will catch all those ‘lang’ balls and score enough goals and points to win that elusive county championship.

The Crazy Women:
The existence of the gangs of crazy women who attend gaelic football matches has not been very well documented. Needless to say, they exist, and they are extremely dangerous. Decades ago, the crazy women armed themselves with umbrellas which they used as weapons to assault players. Now that most pitches have perimeter fencing, the crazies have decommissioned their brollies but they have become equally lethal with the tongue. Referees are the favourites targets. Some of these women suffer from DMS (Doting Mother Syndrome) which is a strain of DFS (written about last week). Women with DMS will attack referees who give decisions against their sons. More frightening still, is the common occurrence when a gang of crazy women defend each others’ sons. The result: verbal carnage.

The Loyalists:
These men are the sixties generation, but you wouldn’t think it to look at them. When other nations were entering the age of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll this squad were running around dance halls in Carrickmore, Kilrea and Belfast. The loyalists form the backbone of the GAA. By and large they are peace loving creatures, however they have been known to turn violent during the championship season. Loyalists come to all matches, rain, hail or snow. Some come to chat to friends, others to torture the opposition, while the majority have long since forgotten why they go to matches - it’s just something they do on a Sunday.

The Club Mascot:
For mascot read lunatic, and there is one in every club. Indeed their reputation often goes before them. The mascot is a loner, though not by choice. No one knows if mascots actually enjoy gaelic football as they never applaud or praise their team. Rather for 60 minutes, the mascot, foaming and frothing at the mouth, curses the opposition, the referee, his own team etc. Most Mascots cannot drive, yet there is a goodly soul in every club who persists in bringing this person to away matches.

The Drinking Crew:
The drinking crew are sons of the Loyalists and some have grandfathers who are Cloth Caps.
The drinking crew tend to be in their twenties or thirties and they are very single. Often they don’t turn up until half-time. Sunday is not a good day for the crew. Attendance at the match serves two vital functions. The first of these is to establish what happened on the previous night. The second is to watch the match. There is a further reason why the crew turn up late. Some of their comrades from the previous night (who also downed a copious number of pints) are out on the pitch, so the crew know well in advance that there is little chance of victory.

Teenage Posers (female):
This group only appear at championship matches with big crowds. Again they are easy to recognise. Posers can be seen walking around the pitch, on the loose gravel, in high heels, looking out at the crowd and largely ignoring the ongoing match. This practice is known within the sisterhood as ‘circuits’. Posers tend to drift away from gaelic football, unless they hook up with a member of the Drinking Crew.

Physio’s Friend:
Four words can sum up the playing career of a typical physio’s friend and they are: ‘lame for every game’. Pulled hamstrings, severed ligaments, sore groins, you name it, and he has had it.
Physiotherapists dream about getting one of these players on their client list. He is the ideal customer. Once a physio’s friend has signed up, all financial worries can be forgotten. With a guaranteed two trips a week, for injuries, either real or imagined, the sick one will pay bills, mortgages and put children through university.

The Male Model:
It’s easy to spot the male model at training sessions. He’s the player wearing the Cork jersey on Monday, Meath on Wednesday and Dublin on Friday. Not only will he have the jersey, he’ll also have the accompanying shorts and socks. Male Models normally sport a healthy tan for about six months of the year. He is the one player in the changing room guaranteed to bring hair gel, shampoo and deodorant. After his liberal application of deodorant, he can be difficult to see as he will be enveloped in a cloud of sweet smelling mist. The Male Model despises the fact that he must share his toiletries every week with some spongers. However, he realises it is a necessary evil if he is to leave the changing room looking and smelling his very best.

County Star (Club Hero):
He is the heartbeat of the team. This man sends himself to sleep at night by counting O’Neill’s footballs floating over a crossbar. Despite huge commitments to the county panel, he will be a regular attender at club training sessions. The Club Hero is highly valued, primarily for his talent, but also for the example he provides other players. Club heroes watch what they eat, go easy on the drink and refrain from cigarettes. If they have one weakness, it’s women. For some misguided reason they are under the illusion that women are not detrimental to your health.

County Star (The Invisible Man):
This other type of county footballer enjoys a love/hate, though mostly hate, relationship with his club’s supporters. They love him when he turns up for matches because he can be the difference between winning and losing a match. They hate him because they think he is a big headed poser, who seeks only personal glory through his county team, while abandoning the very club that taught him how to play the game.

Hard Ground Specialist:
Just as there are race horses that cannot cope with soft ground, so there are footballers who feel ill-suited to early season training. Hard ground specialists consider the dedicated winter trainers to be mere point-to-pointers, whereas they are the genuine flat-race thoroughbred. With the recent good weather, they will have started to appear at training sessions throughout the country in their droves.

The Schoolboy:
The schoolboy has only one thing in his head: football. Carrying absolutely no weight, the schoolboy runs just for the fun of it. Older players in the team are jealous of schoolboys as they represent their lost youth. Junior football is the traditional sacrificial ground where balding corner-backs regularly obliterate frisky teenagers for no apparent reason. Schoolboys are best advised to stay clear of these ageing veterans if they wish to stay clear of serious injury.

The Student:
The transformation from schoolboy to student is as pronounced as that of the caterpillar to butterfly. Where once he was a schoolboy whose only ambition was to get on the senior team; the student discovers the pleasures of wine, woman and song. Football is put way down the agenda. For the first six months of his fresher year the student will have a silly looking smile permanently attached to his face. A pot belly will start to develop in his midriff. He will give the excuse of either assignments or exams for his continued absence at training, yet there will be repeated sightings of him in The Bot, The Fly, The M Club, Lavery’s, Renshaws, Duke’s Hotel; you get the picture. The club hero will try to lecture the student about the error of his ways, but it is hopeless, he will be a lost soul for the next four years. Due to space constraints these are all the players that can be described today. Other players which could not be included were: Team Talker, Psycho, Mr Excuses, and the Nearly Man.

The Stirrer:
The scourge of all clubs.
Has no role in society, let alone a GAA club other than turning up at the club's general meetings, dressed in their Sunday best and wreaking all sorts of cumbersome havoc. As footballers they were in general, disgustingly hopeless and with a pair of arms and legs that refused to work together in harmony on the pitch they spent their careers wrapped up in a good big overcoat on the line belittling the efforts of their team-mates on the field and vocally cursing the mentors who had the sense to keep them off the starting fifteen. Their resentments are built up over the years and anyone who ever crossed their path is subject to their pent up vitriol. Will seethingly complain about everything in the club from selectors to assistant-treasurers, have a penchant for refusing to accept democratic decisions at all levels yet will never offer to do anything constructive for the club and even buying a monthly €5 ticket is beyond their limited capabilities. Are completely selfish and only seem to care about themselves and their brothers/sons/nephews within the club - all of whom are a milder version of the general Shit Stirrer. Have a deep hatred of all neighbouring clubs, referees and most of their own clubmates yet in most cases never receive the widespread condemnation they truly deserve.

The Idiot:
If a club only has one such character they are something of a mundane outfit.
However, it is usually the most lunatic character within the club's environs that gains this unenviable title. Can be seen at championship matches pacing up and down the line frothing and foaming at the lips of his mostly toothless mouth and shouting all sorts of impenetrable obscenities at the referee, linesman, players from both sides and supporters. Will be among the first people in the dressing room before a big game, will reappear again at half time and at the end and will be very forthright in his much-maligned opinions. He will more than likely have changed his tack later in the local after a few pints of the black stuff and couple of half ones yet will always swear by his views. In most cases this raving lunatic doesn't own a car yet there is always someone available to prop him up in the front of their vehicle and bring him to his required destination. Whenever the opportunity arises he will serve as linesman and his arm always signals the same direction - in favour of his team. He will more than likely cause some sort of row but has an uncanny knack of being able to disappear when the going gets tough.

The Saviour:
Every club in every county has one - if they didn't they would have ceased to exist long ago. He is the man in the club that does everything - often without a title to his name. He arranges games, he lines the pitch, puts up the nets, pumps the balls, opens the dressing rooms, turns on the showers, brings the water, jerseys and first aid kit, pays the ref and locks up afterwards. He informs all the players of all the necessary details and if the game is away his car is bursting at the seams with players, supporters and club officials. Often he will train an Under-10 team on a given evening in the field, finish up in time to select the Junior 'C' team, and end up being forced into action himself because of a lack of numbers before rushing to a County Board meeting as the club's delegate and then back to the 'local' to co-ordinate the monthly draw. On the rare occasions that this individual falls sick or goes missing for a couple of days the entire club falls into disrepute and scenes of chaos ensue.

Classic Quotations from Micheál O Muircheartaigh

(Galway V Cork)
"Anthony Lynch the Cork corner back will be the last person to let you down- his people are undertakers"

(Sligo V Dublin)
"I saw a few Sligo people at Mass in Gardiner street this morning and the omens seem to be good for them, the priest was wearing the same colour as the Sligo jersey! 40 yards out on the hogan stand side of the field ....."

"Colin Corkery on the 45 lets go with the right boot. It's over the bar. This man shouldn't be playing football. He's made an almost Lazarus-like recovery from a heart condition. Lazarus was a great man but he couldn't kick points like Colin Corkery."

"1-5 to 0-8 .. well from Lapland to the Antarctic, that's level scores in any man's language."

Pat Fox has it on his hurl and is motoring well now ... but here comes Joe Rabbitte hot on his tail ...... I've seen it all now, a Rabbit chasing a Fox around Croke Park !"

Pat Fox out to the forty and grabs the sliothar, I bought a dog from his father last week. Fox turns and sprints for goal, the dog ran a great race last Tuesday in Limerick. Fox to the 21 fires a shot, it goes to the left and wide ..... and the dog lost as well."

Teddy McCarthy to John McCarthy, no relation, John McCarthy back to Teddy McCarthy, still no relation. "

Sean Og o Hailpin .... his father's from Fermanagh, his mother's from Fiji,neither a hurling stronghold."

A Hurlers Prayer

Grant me O'Lord a hurlers skill
With strength of arm and speed of limb
Unerring eye for the flying ball
and courage to match whate'er befall
May my stroke be speedy and my aim be true
My actions manly and my misses few;
No matter what way the game may go
May I rest in friendship with every foe
And when the final whistle for me has blown
And I stand at last before God's judgment throne,
May the great referee when he calls my name
Say, you hurled like a man, you played the game

The Memory Man

An Irishman was touring the USA on holiday and stopped in a remote bar in the hills of Nevada. He was chatting to the bartender when he spied an old Indian sitting in the corner with his tribal gear on, long white plaits, and an incredibly wrinkled face.

"Who's he?" said the Paddy.

"That's the Memory Man." said the bartender. "He knows everything. He can remember any fact. Go on, try him out."

So the Irishman goes over, and thinking that he won't know anything about hurling, asks "Who won the 1996 Munster Semi Final played in the Gaelic Grounds?"

"Limerick," replies the Memory Man.
"Who did they beat?"
"Clare," was the reply.
"And the score?"
"15 points to 1-13."
"Who scored the winning point?"
"Ciarán Carey," was the old man's reply.

The Irishman was knocked out by this and, when he returned home, Told all his friends and relatives about the amazing Memory Man.

Five years later he went back to the USA and tried to find the Impressive Memory Man again. Eventually he found the bar and there, sitting in the same seat, was the Indian, looking older and even more wrinkled.

The Irishman was delighted to see him, and, deciding to greet the Indian in his native tongue, approached him with the greeting "How".

"Solo-run out of the half back line." replied the Memory Man

 
©Smith O'Briens