Bronx bomber back in the swing of things down in Gaelic Park

I was never much of a hurler and abandoned the game as a 16-year-old, worn out from the summers of sorrow that went hand in hand with being a member of the worst underage Blackrock team in living memory.

After a gap of 16 years, I made my return with the Hoboken junior team last week. It might seem over-ambitious to pick up a hurley again after such a long gap and with such little talent (and I can hear Michael Moynihan laughing from all the way over here) but I did somehow manage to get two goals when brought on as a sub in the second half as our team of mostly ex-pats cruised to victory over Shannon Gaels.

The game was long won at that stage so I’m not placing huge stock in my contribution to the effort. I was just happy to be in that dressing room beforehand as hurleys and studs clunked off the cold concrete, our shelter from the heat outside. It was daunting to slowly realise how important this was to these players.