Thursday 31 July 2014

Irish Tour 14


It’s almost two years since I was last in Ireland; an unimaginably long period of time to be away from the place on earth where I feel more at ease than anywhere else I’ve yet come across. Apologies for any sentimentality, but it’s my spiritual and emotional home. Since my trip to Cork, Kildare and Croke Park in August 2012 (detailed at http://payaso-de-mierda.blogspot.co.uk/2012/08/de-banks.html); I’ve only spent 2 nights out of Newcastle, on account of family responsibilities as my mother’s main carer. In addition, as 2013 was deemed to be “The Homecoming” by Fáilte Ireland, it was clear I’d have to give anything as conformist as that squalid publicity campaign a wide berth. Hence, 2014 it was. 40 years on from Rory Gallagher’s Irish Tour ’74 it was time for me to do the same thing. Even then, trying to fix a date for a visit, bearing in mind my sporting requirements (see later in article), was fraught with difficulties. The end of May / start of June window I’ve used in the past to great effect was discounted because of my candidacy in the local elections for TUSC and Hibernian’s ability to snatch relegation from the jaws of safety in the SPL play-off, while the summer had to take into account my various obligations to attend gigs and games in July and August, not to mention the wedding of a long-time pal and the occasion of my 50th birthday. Thanks; nice of you to say so.


Consequently, the weekend identified was, by necessity, Friday 25th to Sunday 27th July, as it would provide plenty of fresh sporting experiences, both in terms of garrison and indigenous games. I must take time to add that I did embrace elements of what many would consider a proper holiday during my stay, bookending the trip with visits to the James Joyce Museum in the Martello Tower at Sandycove as part of a pleasant wander, on a beautiful day, from Dalkey to Dun Laoghaire, ideological stronghold of the heroic People Before Profit Alliance element of the brave and noble United Left group in Dáil Éireann, and back, not to mention a considerably more strenuous trip to Wicklow, where an amble along the seafront was taken to another level entirely by scaling Bray Head on a baking afternoon. Needless to say, the degree of difficulty was magnified and multiplied when I lost the easy path and had to scrabble up the side of the mountain. I thought I was on my way to a grave stone, never mind Greystones. However, a few great pints of craft ale in The Magpie in Dalkey, as well as a Druid carry-out, helped to restore my equilibrium. Then, to end my stay, I took an afternoon’s stroll all along the banks of the Royal Canal from Maynooth Harbour to the edge of Kilcock, filling my lungs with pure Kildare air and sensing the ripe disappointment occasioned by the removal of the Irish Open Canoe Polo Championships to Longford.

Where I didn’t go this time at all was central Dublin, skirting through it via The Point Depot and Ringsend on the Aircoach to Killiney Castle, as well as finding €5 under my seat. Sure there’s some great pubs either side of the river, but once you’ve mentioned the DNS is rough and ready, while the South is full of bouffant hairdos in YSL shirts, what else is there to say? I’ve done all the museums and with the temperature pushing 30 degrees, did I really want to melt on a DART for the chance to waste an hour wandering up Grafton Street?  So where did I go this time? Well in chronological order, I was in the following counties: Dublin, Wicklow, Wexford, Carlow, Laois, Offaly, Kildare, Meath and Louth, which comprise 75% of the province of Leinster. This means I’ve now set foot in 27 of 32 Irish counties: Cavan, Fermanagh, Kerry, Monaghan and Waterford being the only ones I’ve yet to be acquainted with. Interestingly, an article on staycations in The Irish Times on Thursday 24th showed that a grand total of 0% of those who had indicated they’d be holidaying in Ireland in 2014 stated they’d be visiting Offaly, so it was important to be swimming against the tourist tide. Who needs Kinsale when you’ve got Tullamore eh?

I’m not sure if it is because the Irish economy has recovered from the state of abject penury to which the population had been reduced by failed machinations of the bankers, developers and corrupt Gombeen men who engineered the property bubble and spectacular crash of 2008, or whether it was because my travels kept me away from largely depopulated midlands and western counties that are garishly criss-crossed by a thousand unnecessary ghost estates that despoil the countryside in counties Longford, Roscommon and Leitrim, plus many other points, standing as shameful reminders of the most unacceptable aspects of rapacious greed and the senseless squandering of both money and hope that lie at the heart of Irish capitalism, but I sensed that Ireland is no longer in despair and that a corner, while not being turned, is in sight. Hopefully this won’t translate itself at the next election into any forgiveness for Fianna Fáil, as nothing will be surer to set the country further back than that shower assuming power again. Then again, the market will always be there for strawberries and spuds, so residents of Wexford and Carlow have no need to put scores of unfinished, unsaleable, unwanted and unnecessary bungalows across their fertile fields.

Interestingly, it happened that politics and sport were intertwined inextricably during my visit, as we shall see. After I’d identified the central weekend to my visit, I immediately turned to both http://www.sseairtricityleague.ie/ and http://www.gaa.ie/ to see what entertainment was available to me. With the GAA, things were simple; having only been to Croke Park, to twice sit in the Cusack Stand in 2012, I was amenable to anything that was on offer outside the capital. The choice rapidly became clear; either it was Semple Stadium in Thurles on Sunday for the hurling quarter final double header between Limerick and Wexford, then home boys Tipperary versus Dublin, or O’Connor Park in Tullamore for the 4A football qualifiers involving my beloved Cork against Sligo, followed by Galway taking on Tipperary. I much prefer hurling as a game; it is breathtakingly fast, seemingly unspeakably dangerous and just about the greatest manifestation of Irish sporting culture one could imagine. Thurles, the place where one Michael Cusack codified the rules of the GAA in 1884, would provide both an atmospheric location and the necessary constituent parts of a real event. Unfortunately, many others thought that way as well; every stand ticket was sold before we could make a decision on how and whether to get there. In fact, Wexford fans unsuccessfully agitated for the games to be switched to Croker to enable more of the Model County’s support to see the game, as headquarters was now idle following the Garth Brooks fiasco. Consequently, my friend John, whose support for Roscommon meant we had to wait until the outcome of their game the week before against Armagh (they lost) before we could make a decision, purchased tickets for O’Connor Park in Tullamore, from SuperValu in Maynooth. It may not have been hurling, but at least I was going to see Cork.


That would be on the Saturday of course, as the League of Ireland tends to be the Friday night sporting feature. Looking at the fixtures for the weekend, the prime driving force was the need to see a new ground. If I’m pressed to name my League of Ireland team, it would be ex Big Club, Bohemian, who were hosting Cork City. The Bohs won 2-0, live on Setanta Ireland, which was a great result, but I’ve been to Dalier twice before so that was out. Similarly, Athlone, Galway, Longford, Shamrock Rovers, Shelbourne, Sligo and UCD were non-starters, despite being at home, as they had been previously visited by yours truly, as well as trips to Bray Wanderers, Derry City, Finn Harps and Saint Patrick’s Athletic. I’ve not set foot in the grounds of Cobh Ramblers, Cork City, Drogheda, Limerick or Waterford United, but they were all away. Consequently, the choice came down to League of Ireland Premier Division leaders Dundalk against Bray Wanderers (Irish sporting wisdom always holds that Bray is “a soccer town”) or First Division minnows Wexford Youths against the singularly uninspiring also-rans Shamrock Rovers B (does it sound better than Reserves? Moot point…).

It seemed a no-brainer, but having been caught out by Irish clubs playing in Europa League qualifiers in 2012, when Cork’s game against St Patrick’s Athletic was postponed and we had to go on a Leeside pub crawl instead, it was no surprise when Dundalk were required to go to Hadjuk Split on the Thursday. They acquitted themselves well with 2-1 victory to go out 3-2 to the Croatians, while Sligo lost 4-3 to Rosenberg and St Patrick’s Athletic were crushed 5-0 at a sold out Tallaght Stadium, tenanted normally by Shamrock Rovers, to bow out 6-1 on aggregate. This meant firstly that all Irish interest in UEFA competitions was at an end, secondly, Dundalk would now host Bray on Sunday night at the seemingly unreal time of 7pm, thirdly I’d get to see 3 sporting fixtures during my visit and fourthly, we (John my Maynooth host, Declan who put me up in Dalkey and I) needed a hotel in Wexford for the Friday night. Again John came up trumps, by sorting out a room at the Maldron in Wexford, as my audacious bid to get us somewhere to stay courtesy of the man behind Wexford Youths had seemingly failed.

Having booked to go with Aer Lingus, I was delighted by their seemingly helpful flight times, but irritated by an unexplained 2 hour delay on the outward leg, which a compensatory voucher for 63% of the value of a Whopper didn’t really make up for, but at least I got on board a plane. On Tuesday 22nd July, 58 year old father of four Mick Wallace was arrested with his partner Clare Daly, formerly of Newbridge, County Kildare, on the runway at Shannon Airport. After being brought to Limerick Garda Station, the two of them explained their presence on the tarmac was part of a plan to inspect US Military Aircraft who land there to refuel and ensure the planes were not transporting any armaments, as such an act would, in the opinion of Wallace and Daly, compromise Ireland’s neutrality. A file on the afternoon’s events was prepared for the Director of Public Prosecutions and the two were let go without charge.

One important detail that should be pointed out is that Daly, a former employee in the catering department of Aer Lingus who presumably knew her way around a plane and Wallace, a philosophy graduate of University College Dublin, who made and lost a fortune in the Irish property bubble are both Teachta Dála. Clare Daly, represents Dublin North as part of the United Left, a broad campaign mainly centred around the rapidly expanding People Before Profit Alliance, while Wallace, who was forced in 2013 to pay the Irish revenue a sum of €2,133,708 in respect of unpaid VAT (presumably as a trained accountant Ms Daly may have helped Mick work out his complex financial affairs), represents his home town of Wexford in Dáil Éireann. In the county most famous for the heroic struggles of the United Irishmen in the 1798 Rebellion against the British occupying forces, commemorated beautifully in Boolavogue and the affecting Seamus Heaney poem Requiem for the Croppies, Mick Wallace is a local hero. Despite his tax affairs, complex personal life and litigious nature, he is incredibly popular in Ireland’s south east strawberry growing region, where even his atrocious fashion sense is accepted with an indulgent smile. Wallace still boasts a shaggy mane of loosely permed peroxided hair that would not have looked out of place in a soft metal band circa 1983 and insists on open necked pink shirts, from whence Wexford Youths, the club he founded, adopted their club colours. When Dundalk’s European adventures meant a trip to Wexford was on the cards, I sent Deputy Wallace the following email -:
Hi Mick,

I know you're busy with the affairs of state and, speaking as a UL and PBP supporter, more power to you, but I've a couple of questions about the Wexford Youths v Shamrock Rovers B game on 25/7.

Basically, I'm coming over from England for my annual holiday from Newcastle. Each year I try to take in a different League of Ireland venue. This year I've persuaded my 2 Irish Newcastle United supporting mates, one from Roscommon based in Kildare and one from Galway living in Dublin who accompany me to these games, that Wexford rather than Dundalk v Bray is the place to be. Obviously, we're intending on staying over; do you have any recommendations for reasonable accommodation, hotel or whatever, in Wexford? We're only looking for that 1 night stay. If you can suggest anywhere, to show gratitude I'd like to sponsor the match ball for the game or something along those lines to help the club.

Sorry if you're too busy to answer, but I thought I'd drop you a line.

ian cusack

A week or so later, I got this response -:
Ciao Ian,

Hope all is well. I'm away at the moment but will check out accommodation for you when I get back. You'll be very welcome to the Wexford Youths. Talk soon.

Mick
Sadly, the affairs of state intervened and I had no further contact from him, so the Maldron it was, after a slow drive down congested roads in Wicklow, across the Pleasant Slaney, through Enniscorthy and into the hotel for a shower, a few quick pints and the house special seafood chowder, before heading up to Ferrycarrig Park for the big game. By kick off, Wallace had brushed off the residual effects of his afternoon in custody, spent two further days in the witness box of the Central Court in Dublin  while pursuing a private prosecution against former Justice Minister Alan Shatter for revealing details on an RTE chat show of a fixed penalty Wallace had accrued for using his mobile phone while driving, and was secure on his home patch in Crossabeg; doling out complimentary glasses of red wine at half time, complaining about the first period performance and generally working the room in his role as founder and ex officio owner of Wexford Youths FC.

Mick’s rhetorical imprecations to the assembled guests and friends who hung on his every word, must have had some effect on the home side, or manager Shane Keegan’s half time tactical advice may have borne fruition, as the pink shirted Boys of Wexford, whose motto of 'Life's short, work hard, play hard' is the same as the slogan of Mick’s firm Wallace Construction, comfortably took apart the uninterested big city hopefuls  by a less-than-flattering 2-0 score, while at the same time Shamrock Rovers first team were losing 1-0 at home to struggling Drogheda United.

Ostensibly, the game we watched on a glorious summer evening was between a vanity project and a glorified reserve team; neither the kind of team one would ever wish to see in the English pyramid on either sporting or moral grounds. However, it’s important to remember the disappearance of Salthill Devon and Mervue United from the First division at the end of the 2013 allowed not only Galway to return, but created the vacancy that Shamrock Rovers B accepted, simply because they were the only side willing and able to meet the annual €20,000 League of Ireland membership fee. That may be depressing, but frankly, Angela Merkel and the European Central Bank didn’t put the continued existence of football teams high on the agenda when working out the €64 billion bailout that kept Ireland afloat in 2010, but has reduced the status of the people to economic servitude for generations to come. In almost every instance, attempting to view Irish affairs through an English lens leads to a blurred picture; to fully understand the need for both Wexford Youths and Shamrock Rovers B in the League of Ireland, you have to grasp the nature of Irish sporting culture.

While the presence of reserve teams in the league is not to be applauded, it remains a necessity in terms of filling the gaps. From what I saw, Shamrock Rovers B are basically an under 21 team, with young lads going through the motions in the hope of a call-up to the senior side and very little team ethos in their play. Meanwhile, a crowd of 297, many of whom wearing Mick inspired pink scarves and shirts, with a band of about two dozen Wexford Ultras, complete with flags, drums and a half decent songbook (“Wallace for Taoiseach” being my favourite) may not represent a club on the verge of a major breakthrough, but they are in the semi-finals of the EA Sports League Cup, having reached the final in 2008 only to lose 6-1 to Derry City, and they’re going well in the league, as demonstrated by Aidan “Roxy” Keenan’s match-winning double, though he’ll miss the Finn Harps game on August 1st  as he’s getting married; I know Donegal’s a long way, but that’s taking things too far. Most importantly though, Wexford Youths offer a solid, community-based playing structure for the game in the south east, with over a dozen junior sides, both boys and girls, as well as a Women’s team, all bankrolled to an extent by Mick Wallace. Avoiding paying VAT may be seen as a criminal offence in the UK, perhaps punishable by a custodial sentence, but in Wexford it is seen as a necessary course of action, because on the banks of the pleasant Slaney and in the eyes of the FAI, Mick Wallace can do no wrong. His red wine isn’t bad either…



And neither were the rake of pints we had, firstly in the appropriately named for us grieving Newcastle fans, Undertakers (RIP John Alder and Liam Sweeney) and then in the craft ale paradise that is Simon Lambert’s on South Main Street, where we met quite a few blokes who’d been to Ferrycarrig that night and were at pains to state that WYFC are a proper club, rooted in their community. In a pub that good, I wasn’t about to disagree with anyone. Previously I’ve always drank black porter on my trips back, but two years away has seen my palate change and the embracing of craft ales, still a poor second to real ale but a step in the right direction, afforded a fantastic opportunity to get hammered in a town I’d never visited before. John opted for the Corkonian Rebel Red (4%), while I adored the Waterford-produced Dungarvan Blonde (4.3%) and Declan made inroads with the frightening 6.9% Bo Brizzle. It was some state we were in that night and the next morning, where a complimentary cooked breakfast gave us the power to head up country, all of us heartily agreeing with Pecker Dunne’s statement that Wexford is a town to like and that one day we will go back, presumably when our travelling days are done.



With John at the wheel and the other two of us rehydrating with 2 litre bottles of water, we drove through Carlow and Laois, taking a brief stop in Portlaoise, without seeing the famous jail, before arriving in Tullamore around 3.30, as the atmosphere of expectation surrounding that afternoon’s game began to grow. Attending GAA games is a very different experience to any game over here. For a start while there is partisanship; there is also great camaraderie and absolutely no air of menace. People support their own county and understand their limitations. Perhaps this explains the presence of Uachtarán na hÉireann Michael D Higgins, like me in O’Connor Park for the first time, supporting his native Galway. A thoughtful, compassionate, intelligent man, he is ideal in this largely ceremonial role and the spontaneous standing ovation that greeted his walk to his seat was spontaneous, genuine, unpretentious and essentially Irish. It also doubled the Galway support at that point in proceedings. While we were there to watch both games as we were entitled to having paid the €20 entry (Wexford was €10 and Dundalk would be €15, while the elusive hurling quarter final tickets were €30), there were essentially two crowds around us, as most people who watched the first left after that, which is when the Galway and Tipp support arrived. Consequently the gate of 7,837, plus U16s who went free, was never an accurate reflection of the total number in the 20,000 capacity ground at any one time.



For Sligo, this stage of the competition was as far as they could realistically go, so a large travelling support, the biggest of the 4 competing counties, regarded this as a festive occasion, as above all else, a GAA game is a family day out, with all generations present and valued. While I hope I’m not making this sound like something out of The Quiet Man or a De Valera out-take, I defy anyone to attend any GAA contest and not feel culturally improved by the experience. That said, the Sligo lad behind was having a major nervous breakdown as the Rebels eased past the Yeats County 0-21 to 1-11, setting them up for a quarter final against Mayo on August 3rd that they’ll almost certainly lose. However, hurling is the real game on the banks of the Lee, so the Munster championship and an All Ireland semi-final on August 17th will do for now. Forza Corcaigh!! Rebels Abu!!

While I was rooting for Cork and bothered only about the result, I did recognise, ignorant about the GAA as I am, that it was a poor, poor game, disfigured by “an orgy of hand passing” as the report in the next day’s Cork-based Irish Examiner (aka De Payper) put it. However Galway against Tipperary was mental. Tipp don’t really do football as hurling is their thing, with the Dublin quarter final the next day, but they brought a small knot of teenage ultras who actually sang at the game. This is incredibly rare in GAA circles. Dublin fans do Molly Malone and the Rebel Army belt out De Banks, but only when they’ve won. Hearing soccer songs from Tipp teenagers made most of the crowd smile at the incongruity, but they soon shut up when the Tribesmen got going.

After going behind 0-06 to 0-04, Galway unleashed 3 unanswered goals either side of the break, before Tipp pulled one back. A further Galway goal made it 4-14 to 1-09 and the Tipperary choir were on their way home. Suddenly an incredible late renaissance brought them back inside O’Connor Park, as events on the pitch reduced Declan to a quivering wreck, before Galway finally won out 4-17 to 4-12. It may not have been the highest standard, but it was damn exciting. Kerry won’t have too many sleepless nights about a game against the Tribesmen in Croker though.

Back in the car, we headed north to Kildare, passing Dowling’s in Prosperous where Christy Moore first sang with Planxty and a huge Come On You Hammers sign in Allenwood, showing Premier League sofa and barstool fans are still a terrible blight on Irish sport. We dropped Declan in Maynooth station, headed to the house and remained sober that night, as the Wexford hangover was still in full effect.

Next day John and I saw the hurling, where Limerick, who’ll play Kilkenny, humiliated Wexford 4-26 to 1-11. If they’d played that at Croker, many more Slaneysiders could have shared the embarrassment. Then we caught Tipperary, Cork’s next opponents, seeing off Dublin 2-23 to 0-16, before heading up through Meath and Louth to Oriel Park in Dundalk. Our arrival in light drizzle was heralded by the geographically incongruous Three Pubs in Bohola by the atrocious Kevin Prendergast at deafening volume over the tannoy, as the rain grew steadier, necessitating the switching on of the three towering floodlights that show the location of the ground from miles away. There was no danger of the pitch cutting up as it’s the only 4G surface in the League of Ireland and it suits Dundalk’s fluent passing style.



This game was a qualitative leap from Friday’s fixture, as Dundalk moved 3 points clear of Cork with a thumping 5-1 win over a Bray side who weren’t terrible by any means, though that will be of no consequence to their glum, saturated band of 20 travellers from Wicklow. The skills on the ball, passing and tactics of both sides were more than adequate, but Dundalk really knew how to finish. The result didn’t flatter them at all and their fans kept up an incessant barrage of noise as the rain became torrential. Casual culture does not exist in Ireland; the economic situation means that spending fortunes on clothing for football is not a realistic option, though a version of Ultra culture, with flags, fireworks and drummers (some talented like at Wexford and some atrocious as in Oriel) exists to create an atmosphere and mark a clear difference from the sedate GAA experience. However, the clearest difference would be the numbers watching; while 2,243 at Dundalk was described on RTE radio as “a packed Oriel Park,” there had been a small matter of 43,088 at Semple Stadium for the hurling. That, essentially, is the difference between the two sports…

So, back home with a terrible hangover, a suitcase full of dirty clothes and a million happy memories, I ponder what’s next for my relationship with Ireland and Irish sport. The fewer venues I have left to choose from, the harder my choices are. Ideally the 2015 fixture list will have Drogheda at home on a Friday night and some GAA pickings on Saturday or Sunday in late May. For the summer visit, a trip down to Munster would be in order; Cork on the Friday, Cobh on the Saturday and hurling on the Sunday is the ideal combination, but a night in Waterford or, as a last resort, Limerick (avoiding Moyross and Rathkeale) would do just as well.









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