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I honestly think there would be massive interest in my idea because of the many derby games. Clubs have to name 12 players that can only play senior and not take part in this in order to keep it for reserves.

Don't know if things have changed much, but when I was secretary of my club the list of 12 sent in was on the extreme side of dubious to say the least.

Some of those 12 would have struggled to make the reserve panel when they were playing let alone the seniors.

http://tyronegaa.ie/2014/12/tyrone-gaa-bank-of-ireland-announce-partnership/

Does this mean BOI are Tyrone's new sponsors?

Will new jerseys have Bank Of Ireland on them?

Seafoid, as someone who works in the financial services industry I will concede that your skepticism is sadly not too uncommon.

However I feel I must put my case on behalf of my colleagues:

Insurance has developed in many forms since practiced by Chinese and Babylonian traders in the 2nd and 3rd centuries.
Someone has to sell it because there always has been a need.

You said that "Critical illnesses today are not as critical as they used to be. People have heart attacks and life goes back to normal."
That is 100% correct – but if someone is going to take a heart attack and life return to normal would that not make critical illness plans even more appealing if they thought that debts or lost income could be replaced during a period of incapacity and recuperation.

You also said "Medical care is hugely improved compared to 20 years ago. Our parents have things like stents implemented over lunchtime now."
Again 100% correct – which is why most plans now have provision for partial payments on less serious heart conditions.

You also state "Lots of forms of cancer can be treated. For the ones that can't life insurance is better."
Only partially correct (the first bit) – however most plans are now sold with built in life cover that costs roughly the same premium than stand alone critical illness cover. So both eventualities are covered.

Finally you conclude with "I just don't see the point of paying 20K for a cover that pays out max 80K if you meet the conditions at the time you need to claim. In my opinion it is not a suitable insurance product."
I appreciate that all of this is your opinion but your example is a very extreme case whereby the premium has been either heavily loaded or the age of the applicant is quite old.

If a policy does not pay out it is for one of two reasons.
1) Non disclosure on the application form – a very reasonable line for insurance companies to take in the overall majority of circumstances.

2) The illness suffered does not fall under the terms of the policy – if so then it's a pity that your cancer or heart attack wasn't more serious because you might have got a payout.

The Martin Lewis line is just staggering
"I'm not a big fan of critical illness policies. Many believe they will "pay out if you get a serious illness and can't work (yes Martin, they do pay out if you get a serious illness)
Yet that isn't true (It is true, I have just told you and I have qualifications to back this up). Critical illness policies pay out a lump sum if you get a specific critical illness – (eh, I thought you said that they don't pay out!!) as defined by the terms of the policy, which can often be changed (no Martin definitely not. Once accepted terms cannot be changed for plans already in force); for example losing one leg isn't critical, but two legs is! (is that an example of one of these changes in terms you are talking about or a random condition you have picked out? And by the way some companies do cover for the loss of one limb – check it out)

So don't think "I'm covered for cancer"; most policies only cover a limited range of cancers. (and many others have a wider more comprehensive range for which you pay a little bit more)

Picking a good critical illness policy would take a doctor and financial nerd combined.
So I suggest you're better off getting
1. Mortgage term cover – (I am so sorry Mr and Mrs Client but you just better hope that you die from your cancer or stroke or heart attack or chron's disease or type 1 diabetes, or permanent disability, or blindness or motor neuron, or brain tumour, or liver failure or chronic arthritis, etc, etc because the mortgage company want their money back)
2. An income protection policy - which does just that - protect your income from a range of eventualities. (but be careful Martin because these plans only pay out a maximum percentage of verifiable earned income, usually 60% as per pay slip or tax returns. What's that? You are only going through the books at £15000 but your actual income is £30000.
Anyway, have you enough to cover you for a couple of months before you need the money? You don't. Oh dear that is going to cost you twice as much then.

This garbage is from an unqualified, multi-millionaire who has made his fortune from selling on leads to insurance companies from people inquiring about critical illness and other insurances.

Tony is right - it is better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

[whichever community they came from]

As someone brought up in the unionist community, I remember attending Remembrance Services at church and school, which were solemn, respectful ceremonies.  The emphasis was on remembering the war dead, whichever community they came from. 

Michaelg, I am quite sure that the services were indeed solemn and respectful but it still does not hide the fact that although Northern Catholics had enlisted during the war just as often as Protestants, they were excluded from any war commemorations as it became an almost exclusively Unionist event.

It is an historical fact that all nationalist names were intentionally left off the numerous plaques and cenotaphs that honour the WW1 dead in Northern Ireland.

(I know the Republic Of Ireland neglected the memory of these men too but that is a separate debate)

You have a PM

Somebody told me about a cookery show on the food channel called 'Bitchin Kitchen'. Watched it and now am hooked.

Google some of it on youtube and see what I mean.

On a serious note. I was absolutely gobsmacked to learn in that diatribe that Charlie McHugh had passed away. (I had to research it to make sure).

I would have been on holiday at the time if my memory serves which is probably why I missed it.

I knew Charlie well having worked in the Derg for a short time and would meet him regularly at GAA matches many times after. Always a smile and genuine pleasantries.

A real gent and for a long time a lone voice for the Republican family in the Derg Valley area (along with his esteemed colleague Ivan Barr r.i.p.).

I just hope the parade passes off with the quiet dignity and respect that Charlie's memory deserves.

Apologies if already posted but this was a good one too.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqHvAC-mDQg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0X5j2GL8h4c
and the story

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/northern_ireland/

Willie,

I recently bought a nice bowl of Oranges. Good decent Jaffa ones grown and harvested in Israel. Not those Spanish taig ones.

I was subsequently delighted to learn that indeed the Jaffa became a very important and noble emblem of the Israeli state.

I was also alarmed to learn that in 1978 Israeli-grown Jaffa oranges sold in the Netherlands were poisoned with mercury in a purported effort to sabotage Israel's economy.
The perpetrators of this dastardly deed were a group called the Arab Revolutionary Army Palestinian Commando.

I have two dilemmas Willie.
1) Are my oranges safe to eat?
2) As the oranges were part of my new year healthy eating regime which I haven't gotten around to starting yet, they are now turning a wee bit green. It annoys me Willie to see how I have let this culture grow and destroy my nice sweet orange.
Can I just scrape this green culture off and return my fruit to the natural healthy state it once was or has my nice sweet orange been destroyed forever?

Please don't be angry with me Willie for my carelessness but I really did think my orange would stay orange forever.

P.S. Are you a Jaffa man Willie?
P.P.S - Who is your barber? Your hair is class.

God rest ye Paudi. Small in stature but a giant of the game.

I have a great memory of him just after the 1997 National League final in Páirc Uí Chaoimh.

Tyrone had  just played in a vocational schools final in the warm up match and afterwards shared the same hotel as Kerry for the post match meal.

I was up at the bar getting a drink when two of the victorious Kerry players came up with the cup and asked the barman to fill it up with cider. ( Not sure who the players were. They were huge anyhow).

Next thing I know is Paudi bursts in between them and grabs the cup before hardly a drop has entered it saying "yis have won f*****g nothing yet!" and with a glare at the barman that would have cut turf, barks "don't fill that again" as he proceeds to pour it down the sink.

Kerry needless to say did go on to win the All-Ireland that year.

I also remember vividly the elderly Kerry supporter coming out of the Hogan stand during the 2003 All-Ireland semi-final and connecting Paudi with the most cowardly right hook from behind.

Colourful character. Colourful career. RIP

Class.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4o99f2ErLo

"Have you ever put a cow through a mincing machine?"

Should assisted suicide ever be made law, it may well raise another interesting dilemma.

How will society judge those people who choose to end their lives in comparison to those who do not faced with similar circumstances.

Let's use Stephen Hawkings as an extreme example of how human spirit can overcome unimaginable adversity and then look at Mr. Nicklinson's case whereby he wants to die.

If we do get past the stage whereby assisted suicide is legally possible, will the person choosing to die be judged against those who do not.

No doubt we will get into an even deeper mire of who is the weaker and who is the stronger.

I had a relation who worked as an employee for a short time with the National Trust. She said they were the most disorganised, incompetent bunch of idiots she had ever met at management level.

The people on the ground and the volunteers did their best but the people tasked with actually being creative and economical did not. There was no responsibilty and there was certainly no accountability. (just like the current N.I. Civil Service).

I remember reading not so long ago that the vast majority of people in Enniskillen thought the Castlecoole estate there was owned by the council. I believe they charge in there now.

Having said all that I am a card carrying member (@£34) which I think is fantastic value for money considering the amount of NT facilities there are not only in Northern Ireland but throughout the UK.

More energy and resources should be put into signing up new members.

"Now, Patsie."

By Blackguard

There are stories and then there are stories. We've all heard about Jessie Owens and his defiance in the face of extreme provocation, albeit subtly applied by the Kaiser. Many a bar room has hushed to Mass-like silence as the local Seanchai embellished Delaney's athletic achievements or Michael Collins' mastery of evasion from his nemesis, the British. There there are stories that'll never be told outside the parish. Stories so interwoven in the fabric that it belongs to them, is a part of them and will remain there.

In 1945, Patsie Mangan returned to Ulster with the ravages of war permanently visible on his honest shoulders. Forced to earn shillings to feed his burgeoning family (he had 7 sons and 6 daughters before he left, a round 14 when he returned) he went against the grain and put in a hard shift at the tail end of the second round of that destructive European rivalry. During the dying skirmishes, he was caught in no man's land when a Russian shell landed feet from his backtracking and tired limbs. Lucky for him, his life was spared unlike his fellow Ulster traveller. The downside to his continued existence was the complete loss of sight in both eyes.

Honourably discharged, he made the torturous journey back to mid-Ulster to break the mixed news. Patsie was home for good with shillings in his pocket, enough to see them through the next couple of years, but he'd never see no.14. Nor again would he set eyes on the others and his patient wife, Bernie. Days passed and having finally muted the stigma of his war efforts for the local 'enemy' he immersed himself in the local GAA club once again. Before his sight was destroyed by Russian artillery, he was a giant on the field at his club. A towering full back, the sight of his trademark manoeuvre puffed the local community full of pride as Patsie emerging from a mass of bodies to leather the ball upfield with a defiant roar. All that was in the past and Mangan embraced it by helping out at the club.

That was until the club were one player short for an important Junior game which would seal the fate for the year. Win, and they'd get playing Intermediate for the first time in their history. Lose and all was lost again, as it had been for 44 years previously. The officials made it clear that the game would be forfeited if the numbers didn't tally. It had to be done. Patsie, 100% blind, was asked to fill out the team sheet requirements. Initially they played him as a corner forward, hoping he could simply stand well out of the way. And so it transpired. But the soldier in Patsie couldn't be quoshed. Minutes into the second half, he slowly made his way downfield as the ball played around him. No one cared as the scores were nip and tuck throughout. The battle raged on.

Patsie finally stalled when he reached his customary full back line. He turned and faced play. An awkwardness fell upon his fellow defenders and they debated quietly who would approach him and move him out of the way. One man didn't. The one man who knew Mangan to a tee. The goalkeeper had faced the back of Patsie since they played ball for the youngsters in Feis games. He knew every flinch Mangan would make and what it meant. He knew what to do that day. A ball was hit in high and hard from the middle of the field as the opposition cruelly attempted to increase the confusion. From the depths of an uneasy silence, the keeper bellowed "Now, Patsie". The rest betters any tale of titanic feats from Delaney or Collins. Patsie leapt into the air above all men, caught it, and shoed the ball upfield with customary roar. For the last 10 minutes, they say Patsie claimed 14 high balls from 14 "Now, Patsie" bellows from the keeper.

His club won the game and never returned to Junior until the year after Patsie died tragically crossing a road outside his home. That's a story.

Sounds like a Flann O'Brien novel.