Winter hurling not a time for the faint-hearted

YOUR columnist has been colder than he was yesterday in Pairc Ui Chaoimh, but not often. Thurles Sars and De La Salle played in what Sylvia Plath called the light of the mind: cold and planetary.

It was as chilly as an IMF handshake. A canvasser’s welcome. Take your pick.

A sports editor-enforced embargo on commentary about My Time In Cryotherapy forbids me to go into detail on that score, but suffice to say that a couple of the more adventurous hairdos on the Thurles Sars side in Páirc Uí Chaoimh yesterday looked more snow-capped than peroxide.