| 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
|