Soccer stars blow their own trumpets but we have all we need right here
They were up against it due to events outside their control but they pulled on their jerseys, donning the county’s hurling pride and passion and took to the field.
Of course they were beaten, and well beaten, but they gave it everything they had.
They travelled back home in the evening with their pride intact knowing and hoping there will be better times ahead.
Meanwhile, in South Africa in the over-hyped cockpit that is the World Cup, Wayne Rooney of England is mouthing foul language into the TV cameras which had recorded his team’s abysmal showing in the tournament thus far.
In Leinster meanwhile the Offaly and Galway hurlers serve up a titanic banquet of the best of their code under a blazing sun. Not a foul stroke, a single and undeserved red card for Daniel Currams of Offaly who started like a steam engine with a brace of goals. The highest excitement. Galway fight back in the second half. They seem to be beating the 14 men. But Offaly scrape the bottom of the tank and earn a thrilling draw in a contest which tingled from beginning to end.
Meanwhile back in Africa, Anelka of France is sent home in disgrace by his bosses for fighting with his coach. There are unseemly and hysterical scenes, talks about “a spy” in the dressing room, and eventually the French players refuse to train and a scuffle develops before the hungry lenses of the world.
Back home and Henry Shefflin establishes a record in hurling scoring by smashing Eddie Keher’s longtime highest tally. Kilkenny show Dublin exactly how aristocratic hurling is played, handing out a trouncing. The game is well worth watching if only for the amazing range of skills of Tommy Walsh. One of the TV analysts describes the fireball with spring heels as being “unhurlable”.
Back in Africa, John Terry gives a remarkable interview in which he clearly tries to use player-power against Fabio Capello.
He starts a team selection frequency by urging that Capello select his friend and teammate Joe Cole for the next crucial game. He says the England players are going to have a head-to-head meeting with Capello that evening.
Back home excitement and anticipation are already mounting in advance of the Galway and Offaly replay next weekend and all the other upcoming feasts of a championship which is beginning to flare brightly after a slow start.
Tyrone’s footballers light another Red Hand beacon up North. Roscommon make heavy work of beating gallant little Leitrim in the Connacht championship. Meath dispose of Laois at second time of asking. It’s all happening.
The point is that all the Irish players in action in the championships are amateurs who do not earn a red cent for all the thrills which they bring to our summers. The point is that the skills of hurling in particular are higher than those deployed by even the artistic soccer sides of South America like Brazil and Argentina. The point is that the wholesome pride and passion of our national games compares very favourably indeed with those displayed in the World Cup – especially by the European teams. No acting, no diving, very little gamesmanship, wholehearted commitment, nothing seedy in sight. We are blessed.
It is heartening in a way that the honesty and hard work and manliness of the ‘frontier sides’ from Australia and New Zealand has resulted in largely good results for them. They get stuck in, play to the best of their ability, don’t mouth their coaches, and have not yet learned how to dive and roll around on the turf in mock agony.
They were supposed to be the cannon fodder of the tournament but that is not how it has worked out. Fair play to them.
But have any of you yet seen a game from the World Cup which compares favourably with that hurling thriller between Offaly and Galway?
I’ve watched a lot of the games and I have not.
Have any of you seen a higher range of subtle skills than those displayed by Tommy Walsh at the weekend? Or Henry Shefflin? Or Shane Dooley while his father sweated on the sideline? I doubt if you have unless, in another code entirely, you were watching Graeme McDowell’s performance in Pebble Beach which left a posse of sporting millionaires trailing in his wake in a welter of smashed egos. Great stuff too.
It would seem that the French are getting their comeuppance from that affair in Paris which prevented the Irish from qualifying for the World Cup.
But given the excitements and thrills being provided this month on the gaelic playing fields throughout the land are we not a lot better off – and getting more thrills – by clicking through the turnstiles at home. And not a vuvuzela in sight!
* cormac66@hotmail.com
