Hurling’s first step into the unknown

Every year the comparative article here on this day constitutes a variation on a familiar theme. We have, oh dear, had precious little to talk about since last September. We have, oh woe, been living on processed meat. Now proper hurling — real beef — is back again. Yay! Rejoice and be glad. Etc.

Not with this National League, an entity whose structure nobody saw fit to revisit, and scale down, as soon as the plans for a radical new championship were drawn up.

It starts too early, it finishes too early, and it lasts too long. It is a needless series of hasty and unsatisfying visits to the chipper as a prelude to an evening in a Michelin-starred restaurant. It is exactly what hurling, on the eve of Championship 2018, doesn’t need.