Flashing, cutlets, Baileys (no ice!) and another day

When you start the morning by inadvertently flashing your manhood to your long-suffering mother, the day can only get better, right? When the same woman has been sitting on a deckchair outside your apartment since early morning, waiting for you and your pregnant wife to surface, laden down with all the necessary fry-up components (minus eggs!) and bedecked in the blue and gold of Tipperary you begin to wonder are you dreaming. When you get over the shock of it all and try to decipher who got the bigger fright, you realise that the spoils were shared, much like they were nearly eight hours later in the cauldron that is Croke Park.

Tipperary: Sort your shorts and pull your socks up

It’s the little things, isn’t it? The finer details. The small print. As Tipperary took to Tom Semple’s field on the first Sunday in June I noticed (being a man of some considerable style!) that a mishmash of shorts were the order of the day. Why? As the game progressed socks replaced shorts in my thoughts with Tipperary’s alarming inability to pull them up when the going got tough a source of huge frustration. Why?

Mine's a McGuinness

Gerrard and Rafael traded blows earlier in the day but it was Murphy who produced the real moment to remember, a blow of his own, a killer blow to the men from the west, not his first and certainly not his last. After gathering a long ball, yes a long ball, from Lacey and easily shrugging off the challenge of Keane, the only man to mimic Molloy smashed the ball past motionless Clarke. No need for formalities here. Surnames will do. Here's another. McGuinness. 

I was just a teenager when Molloy walked up the steps of the Hogan for the first time. Dublin hadn't been football's top dogs for nearly a decade but hunger is a great sauce and McEniff's men were not to be denied their first moment in the sun. Yesterday, they repeated the trick. The link? McGuinness. 

Tip your hat to the man from the top of the road

The much-hyped London Olympics is nearly upon us and the man on which most of the media attention will be focused is confident he can live up to his billing. 'The Honourable Usain St. Leo Bolt' is how Wikipedia title him. To us mere mortals he's just plain old Usain Bolt. From humble beginnings in Kingston, Bolt is, as we speak, a five-time World and three-time Olympic gold medallist and without question the man to beat over the shorter distances at major championships. 

Bolt's done it all in his chosen field to date but there's more to come surely?!? 'If I'm in great shape nobody will beat me in London', the 25-year-old, in typically confident mood, proclaimed recently. Records are sure to fall, Bolt will seriously threaten a number of them, perhaps shatter them. However, there's one record Bolt is unaware of, a record that will be broken by a man, far from the glitz and glam of Stratford. That record will be broken where glitz and glam are in short supply, the Gaelic Grounds on the road out of Limerick city, heading for Ennis.

#nothingbeatsbeingthere

It was always 'around the next corner'. Always 'just on another bit'. We were always 'nearly there'. Páirc Uí Chaoimh, the spiritual home of the ancient game in the People's Republic of Cork, or just Cork, as it's more commonly referred to. I'd need more than one pair of hands to count the amount of times I've attended matches there. Always the same atmosphere. Always the same tingle. Always memorable. Always.

Who needs Ó Muircheartaigh anyway?

The news that David Nalbandian had been defaulted from the Queen's club final mustn't have been relayed to Martin Kiely on Sunday afternoon. If it had he would have surely mentioned it. Very little wasn't mentioned during his radio commentary of what was a pulsating Munster hurling semi-final at Semple Stadium. From German chancellor Angela Merkel to chickens scrapping for bits of bread to diving at the European Championships, Kiely covered it. Maybe co-commentator and well-known tennis lover Ken Hogan (that's pure fiction there) kept the information to himself? Perhaps the former Tipperary netminder Sky Plus-ed it, or is it Sky+ed? Not important. 

More than a 'Wee' bit disappointing

I wonder was Martin Sludden at GAA headquarters last Sunday afternoon? Four teams took to the field, just over 31,500 paid in but where was the Tyrone official? The man in black (with green trim) who allowed Joe Sheridan's goal in the provincial final two years ago. 

Louth, one of the teams that took to the field yesterday, were two points up four minutes into injury time and about to celebrate their first win over their neighbours in 35 years. It was their first appearance in the decider in 50 years, they hadn't tasted Leinster glory in 53 years. Then, "the greatest injustice for many a year in Croke Park" came to pass according to the Irish Independent's Colm Keys.

'An early kick up the hole never hurt anyone'

So I've this friend. Sean Drummond is his name. Actually he's a friend of a friend. A man not too dissimilar to my good self. The ancient games are what float his boat. He'd have little or no interest in the Euros. At least I don't think he would. No, his scene centres around the fortunes of the capital's hurlers and footballers. He posted on my Facebook Timeline this morning. 'Lucky boys against Limerick yesterday,' he said. 'Huge improvement needed after that performance.' I agreed and added that Tipperary 'showed great composure' and that the experience 'will do them no harm at all' in the long run. 

Sean Drummond knows what he's talking about. He knows that custard is no use to anyone without jelly. He knows that one swallow never made a summer. 'An early kick up the hole never hurt anyone'... He knows that, along with everyone else.

The day I met a giant

A few months back a Prime Time debate about secret manager payments in the GAA was chaired by the unusually quiet Miriam O'Callaghan. On the night in question I was following the #primetime Twitter stream (Twitter is all the rage these days!) and decided I wanted to add something to the party. I wanted to say something profound but I was at a loss... In the end I retweeted @HMFerry's offering which read, 'It's the amateur status that makes the GAA unique, and the best sporting organisation in the world. No to payments.' I couldn't agree more. 

The blades have been lowered and the talk of payments to managers has dried up. I've just spent eight euro on a bottle of Nivea After Sun and Aodh O'Fearraigh's aka @HMFerry's stance on the GAA still stands.

The GAA is indeed 'amateur' and 'unique' but what do these words really mean? I'm going to go off on a bit of a tangent here. Stay with me.

Corbett 'happy enough to be just playing like'

We all know that Thurles is the home of hurling. That’s a given. You would assume then that Tipperary would be the team to beat when it came to the ancient game. That’s not a given. Down through the years Tipperary were a team to fear, a team to be respected, a team to measure your sides performance off. But the Premier County have slipped down the pecking order in recent times and it will be seven years this September since a beaming Declan Carr climbed the steps of the Hogan Stand. 

Tipperary have not gone away. Far from it. But the recent emergence of teams in Munster such as Waterford and Limerick and the continued dominance of Kilkenny and Cork have left the Tipperary hurling faithful wondering if the good times will ever return.

The safe, strong hands of Brian O'Grady

When Brian O'Grady shakes your hand you know it. He looks you in the eye, takes a firm grip and doesn't let go until he decides it's the right time. A man you could place your trust in. A man who had your back. 

As insignificant birthdays all pass you begin to lose bits and pieces of your memory but if my diminishing memory serves me right the 'shemozzle' could indeed have taken place around the small parallelogram. It was my first year on the minor football circuit, my first year in the blue of Thurles Sarsfields. I was a much better hurler but at that age you'll play anything. I remember it being a fine summer evening, perhaps a Saturday? All my many female fans from both the Presentation and Ursuline Convents were dolled up and in attendance. The stand was packed, the pitch was as far from level as possible and there was a sense of anticipation in the air. A lot of the previous information may not be accurate but I do know who our opponents were.... Kickhams!

'I suppose' it WAS 'unbelievable'

We all go through the day talking, never paying much attention to what we're saying or how we're saying it. Thoughts come into our heads and we articulate them as best we can. We hope that people understand us and that we've gotten our point across. I'm sure I overuse words and phrases but I don't know if 'I suppose' is one of them. 'I suppose'. What does it mean? Seemingly it means I guess or I think. The problem is that using it indicates you don't actually know. The phrase is endemic in the GAA. Why don't GAA folk actually know?

They do know. They've just gotten lazy. Players, who appear to be afraid to give too much away, use 'I suppose' all the time. Managers are not averse to throwing in an 'I suppose' here and there. Funnily enough supporters seem to be able to steer clear of it. Supporters don't think before they speak. They just speak. Tell it as it is. It's refreshing.

Galvin just can't help himself

Scores are what some players are all about. For others, tight marking is their bread and butter. High fielding is the speciality of a select few. Then there's Paul Galvin. Lamentably, the Kerry forward is becoming a one-trick pony. That trick is being sent-off.

There was plenty of hype surrounding the Munster SFC semi-final replay at Páirc Uí Chaoimh on Saturday evening. Cork looked the part in the Fitzgerald Stadium sunshine for most of the opening game. However, in the end they were hanging on despite the fact Bryan Sheehan levelled the game with seconds to go.

The rain lingers but save me from Brolly

There has been a lot of comment in the wake of the ill-tempered Ulster SFC clash between Derry and Monaghan on Sunday. And rightly so. It was hard to watch.

Tony Davis, the former Cork defender and current pundit on 'The Sunday Game', remarked on Sunday night that respect of any sort was sorely missing on the Celtic Park pitch. Davis hit the nail on the head and is a pundit of some standing in my view.

Joe Brolly, the Eamonn Dunphy of 'The Sunday Game' is not. Brolly really gets my goat. On a continuous basis. He has irked many a player, county and supporter down through the years with his opinions.