Reader, I cried.
Cop yourself on, says I, it’s only a bloody a match and it’s only a quarter-final, we won nothing. Then I looked over at Martin and a fine big tear dropped out of his eye onto his cheek and I thought, yes, why not? Why not cry after that experience, that communion, that transportation. Continue reading “Cork v Tipperary Part 2 We kept the faith.”
I wrote the piece below in early February, on the day of the first match of the year.
This morning, three months later, we make our way to Thurles to do battle with our great old enemy in their lair. We’re not confident, how hard is that for a Cork person to say, but we’re not. This Tipp forward line is something else, and those Mahers…
Anyhow, now it’s May, not February. It’s warm, not cold. The sod is firm, not soft. And there’s a lot more at stake. It’s championship. There will be blood. Continue reading “Cork v. Tipperary Part 1 – We keep the faith.”
Two Extracts removed from a short story. A man ruminates as he watches his son play in an All Ireland Final…
Continue reading “On Hurling… 2”
“I swear by the oath of my people”, said Cú Chulainn, “I will make my doings be spoken of among the great doings of heroes in their strength” – Cú Chulainn of Muirthemne by Lady Gregory.
Heavy hearted after yesterday’s painful replay defeat by Clare in an All Ireland Final, I went out of the house this morning to get some groceries and try to distract myself. When I opened the front door I heard young girls laughing, as they played hockey in the rain at Ashton across the road. Continue reading “On Hurling… 1”