Colin Sheridan: In our grievances with the GAA, we sometimes forget why we love it: The club

On days like these, the only thing that matters is the parish and more Iliads being made from local rows, the pitchforks being put aside in lieu of hurleys and footballs

Brothers in arms: John and Noel McGrath of Loughmore-Castleiney celebrate reaching both hurling and football senior finals for the second year in a row. This is the fourth time the club have achieved this feat in the past nine seasons winning both in 2013. Picture: Marty Ryan

As the days suddenly shorten and the hustle of Halloween gives way to talk of Christmas, that happy accident of the GAA calendar — the club championship — once again assumes it’s place at the forefront of our sporting psyches.

There’s a sort of poetry to sitting on the couch on a Sunday afternoon and going from West Ham versus Liverpool to, Slaughtneil v Glen before heading to Tampa Bay to watch Tom Brady throw tight spirals. More often than not, the purest theatre comes from the decrepit GAA grounds, the ones with no dressing rooms (currently) and no hot water.