Skip to main content

Up For The Match

Image
By
 
 
 











The  first barrier beyond which ticketless mortals cannot venture is at the mouth of Clonliffe Avenue opposite Quinns on Dorset street. Traffic  slows down as easy going Gardai marshall the throngs of hurling fans who congest the usually busy Dublin thoroughfare. There is a babble of noise. Shouts and guffaws. Laughter.  The cries of street hawkers and ticket touts. The excited chatter of rival fans. Tipp gansaí's mingle with the black and amber of Kilkenny and the emerald green of Limerick minors. 

Its the same down at Gills corner and other entry points to Croke Park. It is the All Ireland Hurling Final. Me and my older brother Paddy slip through the barrier at Gills. The huge shoulder of the Canal end of Croke Park looms into sight. A duo of street musicians rent the air with traditional ballads. The street is filled with an epidemic of hurling fans. There is a sense of expectation. Of hope. A palpable expectation of being witness to  a feast of sporting and cultural magic.

 Then through the turnstiles and into the Hogan Stand. We take our seats. The minor game is already underway. Kilkenny is edging ahead of a brave Limerick side. The stadium is rapidly filling up. Our Paddy turns to me as he does at this point every year during our annual pilgrimage to the best stadium in the world to watch the best players in the world playing the best game in the world.

' Aren't we lucky to be here? in  Croke Park?  isn't it great to be a Gael?' 

We study the Match Programme. Pore over the clár. Soak up the atmosphere. Discuss the pros and cons, deplore the absence of ground hurling. Debate tactics. check how the winds is blowing the national and provincial flags. Chat with other fans in neighbouring seats. Shake hands with old friends. Applaud the Minors as they conclude the game with a victory for the Cats. Commiserate with each other at the sight of the dejected Limerick lads lying despondently in the background while the jubilant Kilkenny victors celebrate at the plinth  in the Hogan Stand. 

Then the atmosphere builds. The Tipperary All Ireland Champions of 25 years ago line up  and are introduced. Heroes. They beat Antrim that day. I am disappointed that the Antrim  team don't get to parade.  I was looking forward to applauding them as well. Heroes also. 

Huge banners representing the All Ireland Senior teams are carried aloft on to the field  by throngs of young people. The Artane Boys Band assemble below us. Then the Cats take to the field as Croke Park explodes with a roar of rapturous  approval from their supporters. Tipperary follow soon afterwards. 

             
The red carpet is rolled out. We rise to greet the President as he and The Uachtaran of  Cumann Lúthchleas Gael meet the players. The teams parade. Then Amhran na bhFiann.  82 thousand proud Irish voices raised in rousing chorus and conclude in a united roar of support for their county.  The Artane Boys Band exits off the pitch. 

The hurlers shake hands with each other and with the ref and the linesmen.  The ref throws the sliothar in. The midfielders draw on it. The Hurling Final begin. The fastest field game on the planet is underway. 

It's over to the hurlers now. This is their arena. Our arena. Their game. Our game. They are warriors. Gladiators.  Magicans.  Wizards with camans. They will not disappoint us. 

 
They didn't. It all went by in a flash. Point for point. Goal for goal. To and fro. Up and down. 
 

 
Acrobatic high  fielding. Precision passing. Long diagonal pucking of the sliothar. Long distance point scoring. Quick as a flash hand  passing. Side line cuts. Great clearances.  Tight marking. Great goal keeping. Great goals scored. Inspirational solo runs. The ash clashing in close combat dunting. Courageous blocking. Not a malicious stroke the whole game. 

 
 
' It's a pity it will soon be over' our Paddy says at half time. 

'Liam O Neill predicts a draw' I tell him. 

'Now wudn't  that be something' he says in wonderment as the second half starts at break neck speed, 'A draw?'

And it was.  The best game of hurling I ever saw since our school beat Saint Galls in 1958 and I got the best player award. 

Hurling? 

The sport of heroes.

 Kilkenny and Tipperary? 

Legends. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Turf Lodge – A Proud Community

By
This blog attended a very special celebration earlier this week. It was Turf Lodge: 2010 Anois is Arís 50th Anniversary. For those of you who don’t know Turf Lodge is a proud Belfast working class community. Through many difficult years the people of Turf Lodge demonstrated time and time again a commitment to their families and to each other. Like Ballymurphy and Andersonstown, Turf Lodge was one of many estates that were built on the then outskirts of Belfast in the years after the end of World War 2. They were part of a programme of work by Belfast City Corporation known as the ‘Slum clearance and houses redevelopment programme.’ The land on which Turf Lodge was built was eventually bought by the Corporation in June 1956. The name of the estate, it is said, came from a farm on which the estate was built. But it was four years later, in October 1960, and after many disputes and delays between builders and the Corporation, that the first completed houses were handed over for allocation...
2 comments
Read more

The Myth Of “Shadowy Figures”

By
Mise agus Martin and Ted in Stormont Castle 2018 The demonising of republicans has long been an integral part of politics on this island, and especially in the lead into and during electoral campaigns. Through the decades of conflict Unionist leaders and British governments regularly posed as democrats while supporting anti-democratic laws, censorship and the denial of the rights of citizens who voted for Sinn Féin. Sinn Féin Councillors, party activists and family members were killed by unionist death squads, o ften in collusion with British state forces. Successive Irish governments embraced this demonization strategy through Section 31 and state censorship. Sinn Féin was portrayed as undemocratic and dangerous. We were denied municipal or other public buildings to hold events including Ard Fheiseanna. In the years since the Good Friday Agreement these same elements have sought to sustain this narrative. The leaderships of Fianna Fáil, the Irish Labour Party, the SDLP and...
Post a Comment
Read more

Slán Peter John

By
Sinn Féin MP Conor Murphy, Fergal Caraher’s parents, Mary and Peter John, and Sinn Féin Councillors Brendan Curran and Colman Burns at the memorial in South Armagh dedicated to Fergal Caraher It was a fine autumn morning. The South Armagh hilltops, free of British Army forts, were beautiful in the bright morning light as we drove north from Dublin to Cullyhanna to attend the funeral of Peter John Caraher. This blog has known Peter John and the Caraher family for many years. A few weeks ago his son Miceál contacted me to let me know that Peter John was terminally ill. I told him I would call. It was just before the Ard Fheis. Miceál explained to me that Peter John had been told he only had a few weeks left but had forgotten this and I needed to be mindful of that in my conversation. I was therefore a wee bit apprehensive about the visit but I called and I came away uplifted and very happy. Peter John was in great form. We spent a couple of hours craicing away, telling yarns and in his c...
2 comments
Read more