There mightn’t be tears but...

IT’S a never failing, permanently entertaining rite of the soccer season across the water.

Come the last day of hostilities in May the cameras descend on the fixtures involving the relegation contenders and at the final whistle, as three teams tumble through the trapdoor, TV screens around the world are filled with pictures of blubbering small boys, who don’t know any better, and blubbering fat fortysomethings, who really ought to. For the voyeurs and sociologists among us it makes for compulsive viewing.

It won’t be quite like that in the Allianz Hurling League tomorrow. It’s only the league, after all. Two teams will reach the Division 1 final, another team will be relegated and nobody, but nobody, will shed a tear either way. Lachrymose children will be conspicuous by their absence, whatever about fat fortysomethings.