No legend left behind in Mount Sion

AND SO to Waterford on a sunny weekend. We spent most of Saturday afternoon at a GAA club function in the Crystal City, which was conducted half al fresco and half al taverna, if you’ll forgive the pidgin Italian. The al fresco part was the most enjoyable, given the variety of delights on offer.

Indexing minor vintages and then-current fashions is one imperishable delight of any large-scale GAA gathering.

An uncle of this column is fond of saying that you can tell the year a man got married by the crease and width of his trousers (no word yet on telling the year a man committed to a non-legally binding cohabitation).