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An excellent article about Andrew McCann from the Sunday Times. I corrected the names of the Portadown players mentioned by Sticky Murray.


Last Tuesday evening in the Goat Bar and Grill in south Dublin, Enda McNulty and Des Mackin ran into the Mayo footballer Austin O'Malley and the St Vincent's centrefielder Michael O'Shea. All four had played on the Dublin club scene and the talk soon drifted to St Vincent's drawn Leinster quarter-final against Seneschalstown two days earlier. Given their Armagh connections, McNulty and Mackin asked O'Shea about Seneschalstown's Andrew McCann. It was the first O'Shea knew about McCann's Armagh background; he hadn't a clue that he'd even played for the county, never mind that he'd won an All-Ireland in 2002.

O'Shea wasn't being complacent or arrogant because McCann's career had never trapped many rays of sunlight. Even on the day when his profile reached its peak, McCann managed to retain his anonymity in the immediate aftermath. Four minutes before Maurice Fitzgerald rescued Kerry with a 40-metre free to level the drawn 2000 All-Ireland semi-final, McCann was the story of the day. Kerry were three points ahead with time running out when he cleverly weaved his way inside the Kerry, defence and scored the equalising goal.



McCann was living in Dublin at the time and he made his own way home afterwards. The Armagh team bus was stopped in traffic as it waited to take the turn on to Clonliffe Road when a couple of the Armagh players spotted McCann drifting down Jones Road.His hair was still slightly wet and his cheeks were flush from the game but McCann had his gear-bag down by his side as he negotiated his way through the throng. While the Armagh players had their eyes trained on McCann, nobody on the street stopped him because nobody recognised him. Of all the players from Armagh's historic All-Ireland winning team, McCann had the lowest profile.

John Toal could maybe have been bracketed in that category, at the time but he was only in his second season while McCann had already done six years of hard times That Armagh team were the brand leaders of the modern game and were one of the most recognised and well received All-Ireland champions of the past two decades. And yet, McCann managed to operate on such a stage with the stealth and quiet efficiency of an undercover agent. He never sat on the executive of that team but the top table cherished him. "I don't say this lightly, says Paul McGrane, "but Andy McCann was definitely one of the most underrated footballers I ever played with or against. He was a class player for us."

"We used to always smile amongst ourselves about how understated Andy was," says Enda McNulty. "If you asked me to sum up Andy McCann, I'd describe him as the ice-man cometh. He always produced the goods on the, big day but he was a skilful and talented player too." McCann always liked it in the shade. He didn't' do interviews, he didn't bother with endorsements after 2002 and the hype around the whole team never hassled or interested him. He lived in Dublin and Kildare during most of his inter-county career and he travelled to Armagh on his own for training for the guts of a decade. Afterwards, he'd disappear out the door like a puff of smoke. "I probably am a shy type of person' but I'm the kind of person who just goes along and does the thing," says McCann. "I'd like to think that I made a good contribution to the whole Armagh success but I'd like to think that the other boys on the panel recognised my contribution.

That was always more, important to me than any praise or profile I got with being on that Armagh team. His consistency marked him apart of Armagh's 32 championship matches between 1997 and 2003, McCann started 31 and was substituted only three times. Those came in 2002 but McGrane leaps to his defence by recalling that McCann got married early that summer and missed the now famous training camp in La Manga. McGrane and McNulty say that they cannot once remember McCann getting cleaned out. McGrane has known McCann since P7 class in primary school and he says that he's still the same now as he was then; intelligent, witty, a quiet guy who always gets the job done".

Both played on the Armagh minor team that lost the 1992 All-Ireland final in harrowing circumstances. That team was dominated by big names from the footballing academies of St' Patrick's Armagh, Abbey CBS and St Colman's in Newry. McCann never had that grounding because he attended Lismore Comprehensive in Craigavon, where there was absolutely no football. Moreover, he played with Tir na nOg in Portadown, a club without power or prestige in Armagh. Brian Mallon has been part of the Armagh squad now for a number of years but before McCann arrived, nobody from Portadown had ever established a place on, the Armagh team. The Tirna nOg chairman, Liam Murray, has been a member of the club for 35 years and can't recall any other Portadown footballer playing championship before McCann. Bertie Madden and Dr Joe Fearon were on the fringes of the panel in the 1970s but they never played in the championship.

The club stands on the Garvaghy Road and overlooks Drumcree church. Their members always tried to insulate themselves from outside influences. "Portadown is mainly a Protestant town but playing GAA there didn't really impact much on us because the club was in the small Catholic area," says McCann. "The whole politics of the situation never really came into it and you just went to the club and played football like anywhere else. We just kept ourselves to ourselves but the club had great people, who kept it going through all the Troubles. McCann's desire and ambition kept him on the Armagh squad for 10 seasons. A three-month injury layoff before the 2004 championship hampered his involvement that season.

After losing his starting place for the first time before that year's Ulster final against Donegal,; he never got it back. Aaron Kernan established himself at wing-hack in 2005 and McCann's career began winding down. He cane on as a substitute in the 2005 All-Ireland semi-final defeat by Tyrone and walked away afterwards without any sounding of trumpets in the background. "Being honest, I wasn't really enjoying the trips to training anymore," he says. "It wasn't so much that I wasn't making the team, it was just that the enjoyment had gone. I know some of the lads really regret not winning that second All-Ireland but, to be honest, I don't really have any regrets. My attitude was that you just put your head down and keep trying until you can't try anymore. Most of the boys on that panel did that and it just didn't happen.

You put your heart and soul into it. but, when it doesn't happen, you move on and do something else." Despite such a settled inter-county career, McCann has had a nomadic existence as a club player. During part of his time spent living in Dublin, he played with Ballyboden-St Enda's. When he got married and moved to Leixlip, he transferred to the club there. Last year, he and, his family bought a house in Slane and his workmate and the Seneschalstown secretary, Ian Maguire asked McCann about joining the club. "People have often said stuff to me but as far as I'm concerned I only ever joined a club that I lived beside, he says. "I'd love to have stayed playing club football with Tir na nOg and won a championship with them. But if you want to have any sort of life outside of football, you can't really do it. I joined those other clubs because I intended on settling in those places and it was a similar reason for joining Seneschalstown.

You just want to fit into the community.Seneschalstown's first county title in 13 seasons was a huge lift to the club and the community for a number of reasons. The Meath school bus crash in 2005 happened on their doorstep and impacted on many local families. The success also provided McCann with a lift. Last summer, he was involved in a car crash and his nine-month-old daughter, Caoimhe, was killed. "We're doing all right, I suppose," he says. "My wife [Emma] and Eoin,{four-year-old son] are just trying to get on with life as best as we can. I don't really like talking about it. I suppose football has helped in that it helps take your mind of things at training for a couple of hours.

But it's something that I'll never get over. It has totally changed my life and my perspective. Football is about enjoying yourself and enjoying your game. That's it." At the start of the season, McCann probably didn't think we could win a county title, but Seneschalstown have kept their heads down and kept battling away. They only stumbled into a county quarter-final and then looked to have blown the title when Navan O'Mahony's scrambled a draw in the county final. The majority of their young team had lost three consecutive county U-21 finals to O'Mahony's but in the replay Seneschalstown blew their opponents out of the water - and with them went any preconceived psychological hang-ups.

McCann wouldn't want to take much credit for their progress this season but he has been a steady hand and presence among a young crop of players. He wouldn't have survived with Armagh for as long as he did or been as successful as he was without that cutting edge and desire. While he would never wish to be defined by the things he has said, he's imparted some of his knowledge and experience, through the medium of his discreet manner. Then he goes on to the field and just does the business.

"I'd like to think that I've had a bit of an input into Seneschalstown's success," says McCann. "I know for a fact that this is the only chance that I'll ever get to win a Leinster championship so I want to make it count. Last week showed we had the desire. It's great to have that winning feeling again but you have,to enjoy your football. We're playing like a team now that is enjoyng our football and having the game in Navan is a big boost. Hopefully we'll push on again; now."

Last Sunday, Paul McGrane and Cathal O'Rourke travelled to Dublin just to see McCann play. He lined out at centre-forward but all the old hallmarks of his game were still evident; hoovering up breaking ball, spraying quality passes and showing leadership in his quiet and understated fashion. Still the guy who just gets the job done. Still the iceman.

The Sunday Times

Social Research Methods, part-time.

Up to my eyeballs at the moment.

Still been keeping an eye on the board though.

I'm actually on the same course as stadiumsurvey.

My humble effort will follow shortly.

PS I completed the survey.

I'm heading to Hamburg for a stag weekend at the end of August.

Has anyone been there or know of any Irish bars that might show the hurling final?

Anywhere in particular I should go, apart from the obvious.

4 Make a Puma T-shirt.

Cucumbers, vile things, and the sneaky bastards that cut them up small and hide them in your salad.

Taken from Hogan Stand

The times, dates and venues for the All-Ireland football qualifiers and Tommy Murphy Cup first round ties have been announced.

Five of the eight All-Ireland qualifiers will be have a 7pm throw-in on Saturday, July 7. The games between Fermanagh and the losers of next Sunday's Leinster SFC semi-final between Laois and Wexford, and Armagh and Derry, will take place at 2pm and 4pm respectively on Sunday, July 8, while Roscommon will host Kildare at Dr Hyde Park at 3pm the previous day.

Both of the Sunday games could yet be played as a double-header at Clones as Enniskillen, which was out of commission during the National League due to upgrading work, may not be ready to host the Fermanagh v Laois/Wexford clash. Armagh's meeting with Derry will definitely go ahead at Clones.

On the Saturday evening, Limerick will play Louth at the Gaelic Grounds, Castlebar will host the meeting of Mayo and Cavan, Newry is the venue for Down v Meath, Westmeath will have home advantage in Mullingar for their clash with Longford, while Leitrim will entertain Donegal in Carrick-on-Shannon.

In the Tommy Murphy Cup, Kilkenny face Antrim in a preliminary round tie next Saturday, June 30 at Nowlan Park, with the winners travelling to Ruislip to play London in the first round proper on July 7 at 3pm.

The remaining three first round fixtures will also be played on July 7 at 7pm. Carlow must travel to Dungarvan to face Waterford, Wicklow host Offaly in Aughrim and Tipperary take on Clare in Ardfinnan.

was the middletown derrynoose championship match rained off last nite!?

Derrynoose won by 4 points, the score was something like 3-8 to 0-13. It was a poor enough game although the conditions didn't help. Derrynoose were probably deserving winners, they led 2-5 to 0-5 at half time. Middletown came back into it more in the second half but Derrynoose just did enough to hold on.

Being a regular lurker I'm sure he'll have noticed this.

Funnily enough he never mentioned it on saturday night. Where were you Tony?

It probably has no bearing on Saturday's match but Tir na nOg u16's beat the Clans in the semi-final of the North Armagh championship tonight by 27 points!

McAllister not fit, oh dear!

Ronan Quigley refereed the Tir na nOg Granemore match last year. He was piss poor then and will be again on Saturday night.

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Tir na nOg did your B-team beat St Peters last night and if you don't know could you find out for me.
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Yes, they beat St Peters by 2 points.

Terrible news about Francie. Will he ever be back? Who will replace him at FB? Toner?

why was scully not playing?

AFAIK both Scully and McAllister will be playing for Dungannon in Saturday's Irish cup final.

Who was responsible for the 'Ballybeag Diaries'? they were funny as fook, I saved them somewhere but can't find them, could someone do the needful please.

Is this what you're after?

Secret diary of a club footballer: Part 1
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Got back in at midnight from training the other night. Absolutely bollixed. It wasn't so much the pyramids or the beep test but the shagg'n 6 pints of Rock Shandy after it in Griffen's. Bill Griffen the tight hoor hid the large bottles so I ended up having to pay top euro for pints of the shite. The lads, Seán Óg and Dermot, were drinking dirty pints of Guinness to bate the band but I'm senior captain this year and I need to be showing some example. I'm going to have to do a Roy Keane on it now and have it out with O'Kane. He's Ballybeag's new manager and trainer. He's supposed to have won an All-Ireland for Kerry some time in the 70's. Hard to believe - the fat bastard. Running the shite outta us is one thing but insisting on the alcohol ban?!?!? The team morale is at an all time low and we're only back training a week! It's alright for those college lads and them bhoys working up in Dublin. They can go out when they like up there and no one will spot them. But I'm stuck down here in this Southmeath hole and believe me, there are GAA spies everywhere.

        Dropped the gear off at the range and went in to watch some TV. Me aul' lad, Paddy was in there watching some All-Ireland from the early '70's on TG4. He's always shite-talking about how great the games were in his day. I thought this game was hilarious. To see lads solo'n the ball and under no pressure having to jump up and catch it! There never seemed to be any effort to find a man with a pass. They'd just catch the ball and kick it as far up the other end of the pitch as they could. And bhoy would the crowd roar! As a bonus, there was even a fellow playing out the field with a cap on! Not a baseball cap mind you. That might not have been so bad - but a tweed cap like your Grandfather wears. There was good catching mind you but it looked a lot like the standard of our junior team. I told the aul' lad that. He wasn't too impressed. Told me to fug off. So I did.

        Just started a new job last week as a 'spark' in Rooney's Meat plant over the road. The father got me the job. A lad in Fianna Fall owed him one – fair play to them. I'd a busy day in there today – I read Micko's autobiography cover to cover. I'll need to stock up on a few more books, I'd imagine.

We're heading up to Mayo next Sunday for a Southmeath league game. I'd have made a weekend of it only for the drink ban. Beginning to hate Jeremiah O'Kane – he's messing up me life. Our midfielder, Sean Dunne is getting a run at full forward. Fuging typical of the county to play him outta position but that's what your up again'. I'm hoping to get a call up this year. I'm 26 now, played minor and U-21 with them. Had a great year last year at centre forward and was top scorer with 3-09 for the year – have to get my chance soon. Well all the bhoys in the pub reckon I will anyway. You see, it's in me blood. My grandfather on my mother's side, Joe Nolan, was the last Ballybeag man to win an All-Ireland for Southmeath. That was back in the '50's. He only had heap of daughters so the pressure is on, as they say.

Ran into Father Clifford this morning as he was coming out of the chemists. He used to actually tog out for the Juniors B's in the early nineties when he was young seminarian. A decent enough half-back, he had a reputation for being a close marker. Another thing about him – he had fierce high standards of personal hygiene. After a game, he would think nothing of spending a good hour at least in the showers. For the last few years, he was on the Missions, converting the heathen masses. Lesotho or somewhere. Or was it Limerick? I can't remember.

The club chairman, Brian Behan rang me to go to the first round of the Scór quiz, over in the hall on Saturday night. 'Fug off outta that ' I thought! Told him I'd be there at 7:00. He's a hard a man – doesn't take no for an answer. Although I'm sure his wife doesn't have that problem – she never sees the man!!! Typical shite - eats, drinks, sleeps GAA. All I want to do is train, play, win, enjoy me football, enjoy a few pints and a bag a chips after it. The odd ride would be nice too. But it's so hard to meet any young-ones around here that don't look like extras on a BBC nature program. Most would make Shane McGowan looked well groomed! We end up having to go into Oldbridge at the weekend. There not much better in there but then sure that's another story.


Secret diary of a club footballer: Part 2
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On Wednesday night me 'aul wan, Bridie, came back from her trip to Lourdes. Glad to see her back – was getting a bit sick of the chips and burgers from Malone's chipper. She'd a great time in Lourdes. Seemingly the praying was fantastic and the weather was good. The tea was supposed to have been a lot better than the last time. So her letters of complaint seemed to do he trick. She was very upset to hear about the proposed halting site that is on the way for the village. Me 'aul lad reckons that the 'knackers' have to live somewhere but she's determined to fight it. She says it's up to good Catholic's like herself to stand up to the council and not allow such a thing. She's already arranged a meeting with Father Clifford on the issue.

On Sunday it was Ballybeag's first league game of the year and thanks be to jaysus our manager O'Kane, relaxed the drink ban. He's allowing us to have a few drinks after the match. He stressed the word "after". We were playing Maddenstown who had a good run in the Southmeath championship last year losing out in the semi-finals. To make matters worse, we were going to be without our star midfielder, Sean Dunne. He got hurt playing for the county agin' Mayo.

On the way to the match, bombing down the road in my Peugeot 205, with the Wolf Tones belting out on the stereo, I decided that I as captain should make a speech before we go out to play. I wanted to tell the lads how we needed to build on our good performance last year. Explain the necessity to work the ball into areas where we could punish them. To concentrate on our own game and to ignore any bad decisions the referee might make. Stress the importance of supporting the man with the ball when we had possession and to tackle back when we didn't. Then when it came to the moment I can't really explain what happened...I just kind of froze on the spot and all that came out was "LETSGETOUTONTHEFUGINPITCHANBATETHEFUGINSHITEOUTTATHEM". I thought I'd made a holy fugin show of myself but no one seemed to notice anything strange.

Well the match didn't go any better than the speech. We were chasing it from the time our full back Jack Burke got send off. That was 3 minutes into the first half. There was no surprise though, as the man is a fierce animal. With the damage he can do with his elbows it's hard to believe he's only got two of them. There was an awful lot of fighting amongst ourselves. The Cahill twins, Tim and Ned almost came to blows over a sloppy pass. Happy enough with the way I played myself – scored 1-02 from play but the rest of the forward line was shite. Anyway, match over, game lost - there was only one thing for it – pints!

I'd heard earlier in the dressing room that Nigel Bradley was back from Australia. He'd been over there for a year or so – workin' in computers or something. He was an awful bollix before he went, I shudder to think what he might be like now. Didn't have to wait long to find out. Went up to Griffin's and as soon as I opened the door I could hear the accent. It was so Australian you'd think he'd never even heard of a country called Ireland, never mind been born in it!

I heard later, that on his first night back in Griffin's, he ordered a feckin' glass of Shiraz. I mean a red wine? What was the man thinking of? Bill took one look at Bradley and another at his regulars sitting at the bar and said in that drawling accent of his "A Shi-raz? Wait 'til I see." He looked around his shelves, behind the large bottles, the Domestos, the Zip fire lighters and the mouse traps for a few moments and then adds "Nigel, we seem to be all out of Shi-raz tonight, could I interest you in a pint of Guinness or...a glass of sherry perhaps?"

So anyway I'm in the pub enjoying me few pints and discussing the match with Seán Óg and Dermot when over comes Bradley, sits down besides us and starts spouting on about his travels. Seán Óg and Dermot wouldn't be as patient as I am so they got up to play pool. I was left to the shite-talk...bungee jumping in Queenstown, sky diving in Cairns and muff diving in Bondi. On and on he went...4X beer in Darwin, 4 wheel drives in Fraser Island and 4 rides in Bangkok. After a few minutes I was sick of it. I had to stop him so I said "Right Nigel, sounds like you'd a great time down there – you didn't catch last night's Lotto results by any chance?" Either he didn't hear me or he ignored me but the important thing is he fuct off with himself. Later on in the night, I saw him sitting up at the bar showing some of the younger lads his shark's tooth that he has hanging around his neck. You know, one of his many Australian souvenirs. The lads ask him if he killed the shark to get it. I didn't hear his reply but think it's unlikely, unless of course, you can shite-talk a shark to death!

On Monday morning I'd a very sore head. To make matters worse, it was my turn again to go down to O'Connell's for the breakfast rolls. That's five times in a row now. I met our club chairman Brian Behan. He was out walking his two greyhounds. After a few minutes discussing the weather, the match, the Scór and the dogs we were all on our way again. I stood and watched as the three of them rambled up the road. I laughed to myself when I thought how great it was to see them all on good terms again.

Things were not always that way. Big into the dogs, our Brian. One of his two greyhounds, Ballybeag Boy, came second in a big race in Shelbourne Park last year. Jayes' that was some night up in Griffin's. We'd some sport. Everyone had him heavily backed, even Bill Griffin, and we all made a killing. The roof was lifted when Brian triumphantly returned to the pub carrying the 'Boy', who was draped in the Ballybeag colours, over his shoulders. Father Clifford calmed things down before offering up a prayer of thanks. We had a bit of a dilemma as there was no cup to fill. True to form, the lads inveigled Bill to take down the big cup from over the telly. It was the under-14's cup won back in the Centenary year. Bill, normally a mane hoor, on such a high after winning some coin on the dog, was caught off-guard and agreed. A quick dust off and the cup was filled. 'Boy' started the ball rolling with a few doggy slurps before it was passed around the bar to everyone, drained and refilled repeatedly. By the end of the night, everyone including the dog was locked. When Brian moved to bring 'Boy' home, he bit Brian in the bollix! He must have wanted another drink. Well he wouldn't let go his grip. Everything was tried to coax the dog into releasing. The drink had an awful effect on him. They tried pouring cold water over his head and even tried to distract him with more drink but each and every time they tried something he'd only tighten his grip. You should have heard the roars of Brian.

Melia, the local vet, was called down from the lounge to have a look. He suggested that the only way would be to castrate the poor animal. The theory being that the pain when sniped would make him release his grip. Well Brian got very upset as he stood to lose out big time on the stud fees but the vet pointed out that if something wasn't done very quickly, Brian's own days in stud would be in question.

Thankfully for Brian a solution was found mainly due to the quick thinking of Jimmy Dunne. Jimmy was an 'aul fellow who rarely spoke. A harmless chap who worked in Rooney's for about 40 years before being forced into retirement last year. He regularly walked 'Boy' and accompanied Brian Behan to most of the races. So when Jimmy heard the band in the lounge starting to play Amhrán na bhFiann, he remembered how 'Boy' was a big fan of the song and would normally howl along with it. So he got everyone to stand to attention and keep quiet so 'Boy' could hear the band. The whole place watched and waited in tense silence. It was looking very bad until just after the "fé lámhach na bpiléar" bit near the end when 'Boy' finally let go and started howling. Everyone joined in.




Secret diary of a club footballer...Part 3
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Jayes' there was a brutal bad turn out at training the other week. O'Kane was going nuts. The angrier he got – the stronger and harder to understand his Kerry accent became. On Thursday night, he called a team meeting after training to discuss the lack of commitment and everything else. The girls off the ladies committee served up tae and buns before the meeting and the lads got fierce distracted. By the buns that is, not the girls. You'd swear some of them had never seen an iced bun before. Bill Griffin sent down some 'salad' sangwidges. As usual they were more 'lettuce' than 'salad'. The man has out done himself yet again – short arms, long pockets. O'Kane wanted a frank and open discussion to clear the air. To get the ball rolling, Club secretary and selector, Peter Brady got up and said "now lads I'm not havin' a go at Jack Burke for gettin' the line - but ye have to keep your feckin Dis-cip-E-lin". Jack didn't give a shite anyway. He was sitting in the corner stuffing his gob with buns with a large contented smile on his face. After my attempted speech the last day I thought I best stay quiet. O'Kane and his 5 selectors threatened to walk unless they got 100 percent commitment from the players. Some of the older players spoke up and made a bit of sense trying to rally everyone else around. Everyone gave a mumbled agreement to give more commitment, turn up on time, bring their boots and all the usual shite people wanted to hear. O'Kane and his selectors seemed happy enough for the moment anyway.

Lost me bollix at Cheltenham again. Picked all the wrong Irish bankers. That long hoor, Niall Quinn, would be better off sticking to his Mother Teresa and Kofi Annan impressions and leave tippin' the nags to someone that knows. Peter Brady rang on Saturday morning. Thank Christ he had a nixer for me. He wanted me to drop down to wire up the house for the internet. Peter is an accountant and lives with his only brother Tom on the farm. They are both single and for good reason too. Tom appears to be a farmer but there doesn't appear to be a whole lot of farming going on. Peter is an amazing organiser and without him the club would fall to pieces. He does great work organising the club lotto. When I called down to the farm I could only find Tom. It appeared that Peter was in Oldbridge with the Under-10 Hurler's. You know, there is something very unnerving about a 50 year old man walking about the house in his underwear of a Bank Holiday Saturday afternoon. I tried to put it out of my mind as I set about the wiring. Tom told me that he couldn't wait for the internet. "Can't wait" he said rubbing his hands together. He said he was going to find himself a wife out in Eastern Europe or Russia. I laughed it off thinking he was messing but then I caught the look in the man's eyes...he was dead fuggin' serious.

The St. Patrick's Day Parade committee pulled out all the stops this year. As always, they had a very impressive display of farm machinery, tractors and the top attraction - a combine harvester. Seemingly a fortune teller was put on at great expense. The guess the weight of the bull competition had a record entry this year. I felt sorry for the bhoys and girls trying to do the Irish dancing on the moving lorry. Dan Molloy, never renowned for good driving, tore through the village that little bit too fast. The pony rides were a great attraction until one of the ponies bolted across the bog taking one of Eugene McKenna's young lads with him. The stewards found the pony quick enough but they were still looking for the young lad when I left an hour later. The excitement of the whole thing was getting to me so I retired to Griffin's for a pint. The bar in Griffin's was packed so I went up to the lounge. Crowded enough there too but I got a seat near the counter and watched the club finals on the telly. Seán Óg and Dermot joined me and we started throwing back the Guinness in true St. Patrick's Day fashion. Drinking for our country – the day that was in it and all that. The craíc was mighty. Later on we were joined by Terrance Cox. He plays in the half forwards for us. A nice lad Terry but the only reason he's on the team is because his father, Joe, is a selector. He's shite to be honest. A bit windy too. Terry was part of the successful Ballybeag minor that won the minor championship 5 or 6 years back but he's gone downhill a lot since then. Come to think of it, he is the only one off that team still actually playing football at all at the moment. The rest of the lads fell by the wayside - the usual story – young team ravaged by the drink and a mixture of fast cars, fast women and fast food. OK, I exaggerate about the women!

I leave Griffin's at a little after nine and head home to see if there is anything to ate. Feckin starving, I am. When I get home I find Father Clifford in the kitchen with me mother drinking tae and ate'n sangwidges. They're discussing the proposed halting site. Father Lenny chats away to me for a few minutes about the football, the training and how he reckons the lads are looking very fit this year and that this could be 'the' year. The aul' one wanting to get down to serious business gives me a dirty look. This is my cue to get the hell out. I grab a few sangwidges and head into the sitting room to watch some TV. The aul' lad is in there with his nightly ration of tae and biscuits. The weather forecast is on, but he has the volume down and he's staring up towards the ceiling with a contented head on him. He's listening to the discussion in the kitchen. The pastor is explaining to the mother how it is important for us all, as good Christians, to look after everyone in society and said "sure when you think about it Bridie, wasn't Jesus himself a bit of an old Traveller in his day". This was like a red bull to a rag to the mother. "Sweet Devine Jesus. A t**ker! Father Clifford? A t**ker! You mean to tell me that you're going to sit here in my own house and call our Lord, God, Jesus Christ a...a feckin' kn**ker! Jesus, Mary and Joseph". The mug of tae and the sangwidge were swiped from his hand and before Father Lenny knew it, he was out the door and down the road with the words that she'd be "taking the matter further with the bishop" still ringing in his ears. Well the aul' lad nearly pist himself laughing. He feckin pebble dashed the mantle piece with the tae and custard creams. The tae was coming out his nose and everything. Jayes' it was some spree.