This war of words could be a dangerous game to be playing

EAST to Kilkenny. Arts festival in full flow, therefore streets overflowing with odd limestone statues, dance recitals, readings and so forth.

And talk about hurling. On this column’s first evening in the Marble City, the conversation starts well but soon heads lower than a frog’s belly in a coal mine. Tickets, Tommy, Sean Óg: you know the drill.

Then: “What I noticed against Clare was that Henry changed the grip, he shortened his hurl. For a long time he...”