Due to popular demand I’ve decided to cut my night short to come home and write the blog. Actually, once Philly Ryan bailed I decided to jump ship too. What a legend of a man. He’s been playing Senior Football for Clonmel Commercials for 24 years and I’d say he played with Tipp for the last 19 years. His boyos came over for the weekend and drank the sh1t out of it. They were mostly auld seasoned footballers, accompanied by some younger pretenders to their crown. You could tell they were quaility but the booze levelled them off. Sound men though.
I’m writing this Day 3 report on Day 4 due to the excessive nature of yesterday afternoon’s activities. I’ve just left Conchur and Dec in Fibbers to come home and see off nine of our group. They fly at 03h30 this morning and will be at their desks by 11am in the morning having had a brief stopover in Istanbul.
But back to Day 3. Our alarms went off at 8am and it was fairly obvious early on that the demeanour of the group had taken a turn. There seemed to be some jetlag in the bones and the banter was more than subdued at breakfast. Our bus was due at 09h and our first game was planned for 10h20. As the minutes ticked by the tension mounted and our preparation time reduced. The fun bus eventually arrived and got us to the pitches twenty minutes prior to throw-in. Everything felt a bit rushed but we did have enough time to go through the usual routine.
We expected a tough game off Dubai and we were proved right from the first whistle as they broke straight up the field. They should have taken at least a point from this foray but instead fumbled the ball over the endline. Playing into a shtiff breeze, we couldn’t gain possession of the ball. On the few occasions we did, they were on top of us straight away with some strong tackles. I think Micheal had one chance from a placed ball but that was it in the opening half.
‘Don’t stop believing’ had been blaring from the clubhouse all weekend and its words also decorate the Dubai Celts Rugby jersey. Given the end of season heroics of 2008, we could easily accept it as our half-time motivation. Such a theme gave me hope that we could salvage it in the second half but it was not to be. They had watched us the previous day and countered our tactics well. For instance, we favoured the quick, short kick-out, but all of a sudden the balls started disappearing from behind the goals and our game was slowed down. Eoin Sheanon had clearly been earmarked and his man might as well have been given a saddle such was the treatment he received.
In the end I think the score was 0-5 to 0-0 although the ref gave them an additional point because when we were making an inter-change, our player had not left the field before his replacement had come on. On the day, we could not begrudge them victory. It was very disappointing however as we have quality footballers in our squad, but we just did not perform. Tiredness, jetlag, lack of familiarity with the nuances of the 7’s game could all be plausible excuses. Still, Dubai were strong, agressive and direct, and when you get ahead in 7’s its very hard for the opposition. In the final they lost to Carrigtwoill, an average enough Junior Football team in Cork. Carrig had beaten Abu Dhabi in their semi by a point and the fact we had accounted for the Dhabi’s easily enough in the group indicates we were not too far off the pace.
Lads were very disappointed after but we went about trying to enter any possible competition to try salvage some pride. Abu Dhabi pulled out of the Hurling Plate semi so we requested to take their place against Civil Service. After a scurry around for helmuts, hurleys and Belgium hurlers we found seven men to represent our parish, city and country.
We played into the wind and the ‘Service’ took it by the scruff of the neck early on. I think it was 2-4 to 0-2 at the interval but we were confident enough turning to play with the wind. Micheal scored a good individual goal and I picked and pulled to grab another. However, at the other end, jigsaw, aka Emmett Devine, went to pieces in goal and let in a couple. In the end we lost by a few points. In fairness though, I’ve never seen Civil Servants work so hard and they deserved their victory.
So we were done and dusted by early afternoon and up to the bar we went. We grabbed a few beers and sat outside watching the remaining games unfold. There was alot of messing going on, some of it involving Kevin Keary and Colin Byrne’s chest hair. Kevin is unlikely to repeat the action anytime soon.
Once the games and presentations were over we headed back up to the bar and the live band kicked into action. Belgium and the Tipp boys stormed the dance floor and got the party rocking. I think I did more damage to myself dancing then I did on the field as I went over on my ankle. Onto the bus we went at around 21h with the destination Fibber Magees via the hotel to drop the bags. Our nordies were on board again and a mighty sing song ensued. There was always at least two songs on the go at all times and I don’t think any was finished. The lads started to try and wind up the Nordies with a rendition of Royal Brittania followed by a chant of, ‘If ya don’t live in Ireland clap your hands’. They were well able though and relations were not damaged.
Fibbers is a small enough Irish bar and with all the teams onsite we pretty much filled it. The craic was mighty but tensions began to increase. As the single men amongst the travelling party went about getting to know the fine ladies of St. Catherines and all the others, the non-singles amongst the group went about a savage sabotage campaign. Possibly the worst was Kevin Keary who stayed one step ahead of Eoin and ensured his chances were nullified before he could even say his name. I was ready for home when Conor arrived with a tray of Jagerbombs. They were just what was need to recharge the batteries. As I have tried to explain to young Rochey, they bring a certain tranquility to an evenings drinking and are a fantastic stimulus for further activity. Myself and Emmett thought it was such a good idea we headed for a couple more at the bar.
There was food had along the way too. Myself and Dec chose the Kentucky Fried Chicken option. I ordered mine and went off to the toilet. When I came back I tucked into some of KFC’s finest chicken strips. They were very spicy though and much pepsi was needed to stop my head exploding. I got to the last piece before I felt the need to inform Dec and when I did he nearly fell off the chair. When I had gone to the toilet, he had changed my order to extra spicy. Well played.
When we got back to the hotel the buzz was still in the air so we headed to Room 702 for a night cap. Vodka, Gin, Jager, Tsintao were just a selection of the beverages that we could choose from. A few of the Nordies joined us and the craic was maintained admirably. Approaching 06h, Gearoid called downstairs to ask if the pool area could be opened. As I may have mentioned, its on the hotel roof and has a fantastic view of the city. A small shallow pool and a hot tub are the extent of the facilities and it was bitterly cold. It was to be our last act and those who were left standing retired to their beds shortly before 07h. A heroic days drinking and messing and I’m sure many a tale will be revealed in the coming days & weeks.
I’m writing this Day 3 report on Day 4 due to the excessive nature of yesterday afternoon’s activities. I’ve just left Conchur and Dec in Fibbers to come home and see off nine of our group. They fly at 03h30 this morning and will be at their desks by 11am in the morning having had a brief stopover in Istanbul.
But back to Day 3. Our alarms went off at 8am and it was fairly obvious early on that the demeanour of the group had taken a turn. There seemed to be some jetlag in the bones and the banter was more than subdued at breakfast. Our bus was due at 09h and our first game was planned for 10h20. As the minutes ticked by the tension mounted and our preparation time reduced. The fun bus eventually arrived and got us to the pitches twenty minutes prior to throw-in. Everything felt a bit rushed but we did have enough time to go through the usual routine.
We expected a tough game off Dubai and we were proved right from the first whistle as they broke straight up the field. They should have taken at least a point from this foray but instead fumbled the ball over the endline. Playing into a shtiff breeze, we couldn’t gain possession of the ball. On the few occasions we did, they were on top of us straight away with some strong tackles. I think Micheal had one chance from a placed ball but that was it in the opening half.
‘Don’t stop believing’ had been blaring from the clubhouse all weekend and its words also decorate the Dubai Celts Rugby jersey. Given the end of season heroics of 2008, we could easily accept it as our half-time motivation. Such a theme gave me hope that we could salvage it in the second half but it was not to be. They had watched us the previous day and countered our tactics well. For instance, we favoured the quick, short kick-out, but all of a sudden the balls started disappearing from behind the goals and our game was slowed down. Eoin Sheanon had clearly been earmarked and his man might as well have been given a saddle such was the treatment he received.
In the end I think the score was 0-5 to 0-0 although the ref gave them an additional point because when we were making an inter-change, our player had not left the field before his replacement had come on. On the day, we could not begrudge them victory. It was very disappointing however as we have quality footballers in our squad, but we just did not perform. Tiredness, jetlag, lack of familiarity with the nuances of the 7’s game could all be plausible excuses. Still, Dubai were strong, agressive and direct, and when you get ahead in 7’s its very hard for the opposition. In the final they lost to Carrigtwoill, an average enough Junior Football team in Cork. Carrig had beaten Abu Dhabi in their semi by a point and the fact we had accounted for the Dhabi’s easily enough in the group indicates we were not too far off the pace.
Lads were very disappointed after but we went about trying to enter any possible competition to try salvage some pride. Abu Dhabi pulled out of the Hurling Plate semi so we requested to take their place against Civil Service. After a scurry around for helmuts, hurleys and Belgium hurlers we found seven men to represent our parish, city and country.
We played into the wind and the ‘Service’ took it by the scruff of the neck early on. I think it was 2-4 to 0-2 at the interval but we were confident enough turning to play with the wind. Micheal scored a good individual goal and I picked and pulled to grab another. However, at the other end, jigsaw, aka Emmett Devine, went to pieces in goal and let in a couple. In the end we lost by a few points. In fairness though, I’ve never seen Civil Servants work so hard and they deserved their victory.
So we were done and dusted by early afternoon and up to the bar we went. We grabbed a few beers and sat outside watching the remaining games unfold. There was alot of messing going on, some of it involving Kevin Keary and Colin Byrne’s chest hair. Kevin is unlikely to repeat the action anytime soon.
Once the games and presentations were over we headed back up to the bar and the live band kicked into action. Belgium and the Tipp boys stormed the dance floor and got the party rocking. I think I did more damage to myself dancing then I did on the field as I went over on my ankle. Onto the bus we went at around 21h with the destination Fibber Magees via the hotel to drop the bags. Our nordies were on board again and a mighty sing song ensued. There was always at least two songs on the go at all times and I don’t think any was finished. The lads started to try and wind up the Nordies with a rendition of Royal Brittania followed by a chant of, ‘If ya don’t live in Ireland clap your hands’. They were well able though and relations were not damaged.
Fibbers is a small enough Irish bar and with all the teams onsite we pretty much filled it. The craic was mighty but tensions began to increase. As the single men amongst the travelling party went about getting to know the fine ladies of St. Catherines and all the others, the non-singles amongst the group went about a savage sabotage campaign. Possibly the worst was Kevin Keary who stayed one step ahead of Eoin and ensured his chances were nullified before he could even say his name. I was ready for home when Conor arrived with a tray of Jagerbombs. They were just what was need to recharge the batteries. As I have tried to explain to young Rochey, they bring a certain tranquility to an evenings drinking and are a fantastic stimulus for further activity. Myself and Emmett thought it was such a good idea we headed for a couple more at the bar.
There was food had along the way too. Myself and Dec chose the Kentucky Fried Chicken option. I ordered mine and went off to the toilet. When I came back I tucked into some of KFC’s finest chicken strips. They were very spicy though and much pepsi was needed to stop my head exploding. I got to the last piece before I felt the need to inform Dec and when I did he nearly fell off the chair. When I had gone to the toilet, he had changed my order to extra spicy. Well played.
When we got back to the hotel the buzz was still in the air so we headed to Room 702 for a night cap. Vodka, Gin, Jager, Tsintao were just a selection of the beverages that we could choose from. A few of the Nordies joined us and the craic was maintained admirably. Approaching 06h, Gearoid called downstairs to ask if the pool area could be opened. As I may have mentioned, its on the hotel roof and has a fantastic view of the city. A small shallow pool and a hot tub are the extent of the facilities and it was bitterly cold. It was to be our last act and those who were left standing retired to their beds shortly before 07h. A heroic days drinking and messing and I’m sure many a tale will be revealed in the coming days & weeks.
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