With the slow burning adoption of facebook in my life, I’ve been letting the auld blog updates go by the wayside. I guess it’s the instant nature of life these days – and the sheer simplicity and ease of facebook on the mobile. Blog updating takes a little thought, time and energy – and I wonder whether it’s really that interesting for most people with such busy lives and kids of their own. My family excepted of course – am sure they like to hear all my boring news.
It’s the Monday after the big sporting weekend for Irish rugby & Dublin. I’ll make no reference to Liverpool right now as this one is about where we’re all from really. Am not fanatically patriotic – never have been - I love Ireland and I love Dublin – but have never been an “in your face” type Irishman. The fanatical patriotism scares me and have seen it lead to many fights and arguments in the past when taken that one step too far. I far prefer the subtle tricolour on my top or cap over the local GAA/Ireland jersey (mind you right now a Dublin top would go down well). I don't know what it is. When you wear the sports jersey outside of the relevant sporting occasion, your looking to make a statement or something. The Man Utd tops all over Asia.....
I had a few punters asking me as we approached the game on Saturday who I was “barracking” for. Most were tongue in cheek – but a couple were genuinely asking. Simple answer/question back – “I’m Irish - who are you going for?”. The same way I would always expect an Aussie to support Australia no matter where they were living. Don’t get me wrong – when the Aussies are playing anyone else (in basically any sport), am absolutely 100% behind them – it comes with the territory and Australia has been very kind to me. The level to which I supported the Queensland Reds this year even surprised myself – but then there was an extra element in that with the family connection. I can’t quite do the Bronco’s thing mind you. Brisbane they may be – but it is still Rugby League.
So anyway. You have probably all soaked up the joys and massively strange uplift such sporting achievements manage to deliver – and it’s so good for the place. Ireland needs it every now and then. The Aussies and the Irish get on pretty well, so it’s nowhere near the same scale as an Ireland England rivalry – for those at home am guessing this was more about the magnitude of taking out one of the world’s top teams. Here, there was an added spice to it, being an Irishman in the midst of it all. The remarks and quips I was receiving for the few days before were always light hearted – and to be honest, I just accepted them and said nothing. Didn’t have to. When you’re the underdog, the pressure is not really there. I was just surprised at how BIG an underdog we were considered to be despite recent performances. It was always a possibility Ireland could do it, and I don’t really see it as the biggest upset in World Cup history. We’re not THAT small a rugby nation and we won the 6 Nations not so long ago with most of this team. Weird. Anyway – I don’t think the Aussies should feel that bad. But they do. The papers crucified the team here – some more gracious in defeat than others – thankfully Alissa’s cousin (Brendan Cannon) is on Fox Sports commentary and he lent the most impartial and balanced (and complimentary to Ireland) view of the game in his comments on TV and his newspaper column. Maybe he was thinking about the next time we would catch up at a family event!
Then came the Dubs. 16 years. Now just to say – we get no coverage of the GAA here. None. And RTE stop it being accessed on their website from non Irish locations (which I have now figured out how to get around... so bring it on). But I was keeping an eye on the Dubs progress through the papers, my nieces and nephews and of course Deirdre & Kieran. The game started at 1.30am our time. Simply not a runner for me to be up given...
- Sleeping has been at a premium in our house recently
- I feed Max lots of nights at 11pm (Alissa gets up to him later in the night as he’s been sick and basically waking from 2.30am)
- I was getting up at 4.30am to fly to Sydney for the day
Of course Max chose last night as the first night he would crack on until almost 5 before waking. I was almost at the airport at that stage.
Anyway, the texts were rolling in from 2.30am. And I was happy to see them – waking to a text that says something along the lines of “GO ON TO F&CK BEJAYSUS WE DID IT” will always put a smile on the face – even at 3am. It was only when I got to the airport and started reading the reports that I realised it was 1 point and the last kick of the game. F&ck me. How good. And Kerry. I wonder do the kids today truly understand the Dublin Kerry rivalry when we grew up when every kid my age had a Dublin jersey and had a deep rooted dislike of Kerry – we knew every single player on both sides. Christ I remember saying I hated Kerry sooooooo much as a 10 year old - I genuinely hated the sight of the green and gold jersey. I think Mum pulled me aside to tell me it was not quite the way to feel.
Now that was a truly innocent and passionate sporting time when it was all that mattered.
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