The second in a multiple part series providing insight into the daily live of a Belgium G.A.A. player.
Estimated # on squad; 5 (but with the presence of 10)
These are the type of dependable foot soldiers which every successful army is built on. Disciplined, dedicated and reliable. They make up the workrate deficit left by the Eurobrats.
We have Crusher, Rochey, Davy and Barry. Stevie G is currently chasing tail in Toyota city. I think Crusher is in Body Evaluation, strength and reliability. Rochey is in Body Design, how appropriate given his role as team nutrition/hydration consultant. Davy is in HR, obviously to leverage his diplomatic skills. Barry works in Quality, says it all.
06h30- The alarm clock goes but the Toyota member (this is what employees are referred to at Toyota) is already sitting up in his bed wide awake. He marches into the kitchen and cracks two raw eggs into a pint glass and devours them in one go. Into an ice cold shower to steel himself for the day. The Yaris is revved up and off to work he goes.
07h30 - The computer is booted up and the water bottle is filled. The emails are tackled quickly and efficiently before the days tasks are noted on the writing pad next to him. No time for chit chat, straight to it.
12h15 - The young member goes down stairs (note the use of the stairs rather than the lift) and grabs a sandwich and some fruit. No time for dilly daddling, he runs back up the stairs to his desk.
12h30 - There are but a few crumbs left of the lunch when the work restarts. Head down.
15h00 - The second litre of water is finished off. A quick trip to the canteen for a well timed pre training banana. Back to work.
19h30 - PC is put in shutdown mode. He leaves chased by a shadow of guilt but such is his respect for timekeeping he knows where he has to be.
19h45 - The car pulls up to the training pitch and he quickly togs out.
20h00 - Training is delayed as the group awaits the arrival of the Eurobrats. This does not sit well with the Toyota members. Once it does get going, the members maintain total focus and discipline throughout the session, doing their best to encourage their less strongly willed teammates.
21h45 - A quick shower back in the appartment followed by the bowl of pasta prepared the evening before.
23h00 - The lamp is switched off and another day is brought to a close.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Simpleton
Slightly under the weather, I headed out to the BSB with Kevin and Colin for our usual Thursday night slot. Kevin talks alot, so much so that you soon tune out and as a result I can't remember much of the conversation content. I do recall however the story of his Dad calling him every Sunday to tell him the local GAA results. Kev takes great pleasure in rolling them off before his father gets a chance and filling in numerous other blanks in the information. A ridiculously undertandable habit.
I had a sense that the session would not go so smoothly when the ballbag was a little lighter than usual and the cones were forgotten in Adrian's car. Biggest concern however was Rochey. There is this childish giddiness which grabs a hold of him every now and then. Last night he was kicking the balls off the walls, the roof and his unsighted teammates before training even started. Each kick punctuated with his head bobing grin.
We went through our usual warm up and followed that with somes ladders and sprinting. Then moved into the kicking drills. Of course, we could just kick the ball up and down the hall giving it no further thought. However, to try and develop some level of concentration in everyone and so throw in a few cones and some basic instructions. Having explained the first drill, demonstrated it twice and not received any request for clarification, we got underway. Cue chaos with men and balls going everywhere they shouldn't be going. In this particular drill, a guy (A) comes short looking to receive a handpass from (B) i.e. he is on the same team as the man with the ball. However the ball is kicked over his head to the man behind him (C). (A) then turns quickly following the path of the ball and receiving a handpass off (C). There is more to be done after that but it is out of the scope of this story. I stress at the beginning that (A) is with (B) and not defending him. Yet, the first three times Deccie goes to receive from (B) he blocks him down like an angry corner back. Deep breath.
The next drill goes along similiar lines except this time its our contrary Chairman Olof that is making a balls of things. I ask him calmly what the fcuk is he doing? He says yeah yeah, I have it now. He then makes a balls of his next two goes. At this stage I'm getting so hot and bothered about everyone making a balls of things that I'm beginning to make a balls of it myself. Proceedings are brought to a temporary halt whilst I ask the lads to please concentrate a little harder. At least that was what I meant to say but I'm not sure if there was any sense to be made from all the fcuking and blinding that actually came out. I could see our new Corkman Eoghan trying to hold back the laughter whilst the other lads just waited for me to shut up! I have done well to remain calm this year, it remains a development point.
The final agitator came with a drill involving ladders and cones. I do not understand how, if you demonstrate the way to run through the ladder or go around the cones, lads still fcuk it up. Micky and Colin are especially good at this, skipping numerous steps on the ladders and disregarding the presence of cones. Ollie isn't bad either, he tends to do everything in reverse!Out of all the things which can annoy me, not going around cones has the greatest impact on my blood pressure. I believe these simple disciplined actions all add up and contribute to a general discipline and concentration level in a player and team. Colin's justification about the ladders cock up was that he was tired :-(. Micky's justification was....actually there was none. He can't look at me in the eye at training these days such is the heap he is in at the moment. However, in fairness, he is only just back after a barbaric 4 months of drinking. He still has some money in the bank from last year's exploits so we will stay patient for a few more weeks!
This weekend, attention turns to the small ball as we welcome Na Fianna of Dublin to Fortress Parc50. We played a mini tournament last summer against themselves and Whitehall. As we were short of numbers I had to rope in a few buddies from home. I think we won by a point but it was tight. Saturday will be a scrappy affair, neither team having much done and we are missing a good few. With many of us due to travel to Dublin on Paddys weekend to play for 'Europe' in the Leinster Junior Club Final, it will be important match practice.
Monday, February 23, 2009
A day in the life - Eurocrats/brats
The first in a multiple part series providing insight into the daily live of a Belgium G.A.A. player.
Estimated # on squad; Too Many
The sight of these folk brings a look of disdain to many a man's face. These lads saunter around the pubs of Shuman and Place Lux, dipping in and out of conversations whilst switching languages faster than the former Cork Hurlers switch their stance.
Decked out in their fine suits, colourful scarfs and clippidy clop shoes, confidence is not something they have to dig deep to find. A typical working day for one of these characters goes something along these lines;
08h30 - Alarm clock starts thumping in the ear. Up the euro scholar gets to go to the bathroom before returning to bed for another half hours kip.
09h00 - He rises for breakfast. Not a full Irish though. Instead some extravagent cocktail of fruit. He would have learned about these new fruits whilst on a stagiere / very expensive junket to some far off land, during which time the most productive thing he did was learn how to make a good smoothie.
10h00 - Just in time for the morning scones, our young political whip breezes through the office doors like some sort of Lord Mayor. He hits the power button on the PC and while waiting for it to warm up he hops from office to office until he finds someone else who is in 'early'. Sat deep in their chairs with legs crossed and hands clasped, they 'hohoho' about the latest cock up from the opposition government. A quick glance at the watch causes panic and they scamper down the stairs for tea and scones.
11h00 - Belly warmed and PC booted up, the emails are examined. He offers instant retaliation to a few and leaves the rest simmer whilst he gathers some other fellow MEP assistants for a game of soccer in the hallway.
12h00 - With beads of sweat appearing on their moisturised skin, they call a halt to the action and head for lunch. Slurs and jibes are exchanged with their political counterparts and temperatures become raised over their three course lunch and half bottle of wine.
13h00 - Time to get busy now for the afternoon. Their boss, who spends alot of his/her time in their Irish office has now arrived at his Irish based desk (I allowed for time difference) so the work needs to be caught up on.
15h00 - Things are 'frantic' in the office as the opposition have just announced an amendment to some random agricultural bill. Responses are drafted, allies are brought closer and the tactics are consensed. Still amongst the chaos, they need to pop down to the canteen for a frappa to settle the nerves.
15h45 - Back at their desk they keep the head down and manage to churn out something which has value associated with it in the bureacratic halls of the European Parliament/Commission etc.
18h00 - Home time arrives and our young assistant is absolutely wrecked after the hectic day of 'work'. A pit stop in Place Lux is a must for any self respecting person and one glass of wine becomes two and so on and so on.
22h00 - The key turns in the door of their merky 10 person appartment and signals the end of another hard day at the office. On with the slippers and up with the feet, followed by an almighty gasp of relief that another day has been conquered.
Some of these jokers actually manage to fit in a bit of G.A.A. on occasion as well. However, their teammates remain deeply suspicious that their motivations are borne of self interest as they chase more votes or try to add another achievement to their gloriously overflowing CV.
If you try to ID them at training, they are very distinct. Usually identified via one of the following traits; always late, no urgency about their movement, full of chat between/during/after drills, the jersey which covers their back (usually a soccer jersey they picked up on their travels) or they can be found bemoaning the aggressive nature of a previous tackle.
Still, in a city like Brussels, they are a necessary evil. You have been warned.
Estimated # on squad; Too Many
The sight of these folk brings a look of disdain to many a man's face. These lads saunter around the pubs of Shuman and Place Lux, dipping in and out of conversations whilst switching languages faster than the former Cork Hurlers switch their stance.
Decked out in their fine suits, colourful scarfs and clippidy clop shoes, confidence is not something they have to dig deep to find. A typical working day for one of these characters goes something along these lines;
08h30 - Alarm clock starts thumping in the ear. Up the euro scholar gets to go to the bathroom before returning to bed for another half hours kip.
09h00 - He rises for breakfast. Not a full Irish though. Instead some extravagent cocktail of fruit. He would have learned about these new fruits whilst on a stagiere / very expensive junket to some far off land, during which time the most productive thing he did was learn how to make a good smoothie.
10h00 - Just in time for the morning scones, our young political whip breezes through the office doors like some sort of Lord Mayor. He hits the power button on the PC and while waiting for it to warm up he hops from office to office until he finds someone else who is in 'early'. Sat deep in their chairs with legs crossed and hands clasped, they 'hohoho' about the latest cock up from the opposition government. A quick glance at the watch causes panic and they scamper down the stairs for tea and scones.
11h00 - Belly warmed and PC booted up, the emails are examined. He offers instant retaliation to a few and leaves the rest simmer whilst he gathers some other fellow MEP assistants for a game of soccer in the hallway.
12h00 - With beads of sweat appearing on their moisturised skin, they call a halt to the action and head for lunch. Slurs and jibes are exchanged with their political counterparts and temperatures become raised over their three course lunch and half bottle of wine.
13h00 - Time to get busy now for the afternoon. Their boss, who spends alot of his/her time in their Irish office has now arrived at his Irish based desk (I allowed for time difference) so the work needs to be caught up on.
15h00 - Things are 'frantic' in the office as the opposition have just announced an amendment to some random agricultural bill. Responses are drafted, allies are brought closer and the tactics are consensed. Still amongst the chaos, they need to pop down to the canteen for a frappa to settle the nerves.
15h45 - Back at their desk they keep the head down and manage to churn out something which has value associated with it in the bureacratic halls of the European Parliament/Commission etc.
18h00 - Home time arrives and our young assistant is absolutely wrecked after the hectic day of 'work'. A pit stop in Place Lux is a must for any self respecting person and one glass of wine becomes two and so on and so on.
22h00 - The key turns in the door of their merky 10 person appartment and signals the end of another hard day at the office. On with the slippers and up with the feet, followed by an almighty gasp of relief that another day has been conquered.
Some of these jokers actually manage to fit in a bit of G.A.A. on occasion as well. However, their teammates remain deeply suspicious that their motivations are borne of self interest as they chase more votes or try to add another achievement to their gloriously overflowing CV.
If you try to ID them at training, they are very distinct. Usually identified via one of the following traits; always late, no urgency about their movement, full of chat between/during/after drills, the jersey which covers their back (usually a soccer jersey they picked up on their travels) or they can be found bemoaning the aggressive nature of a previous tackle.
Still, in a city like Brussels, they are a necessary evil. You have been warned.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Letter to Gerald
Dear Gerald,
First of all, I write to you assuming a couple of things to be gospel. They are that all of your communication to date, has been accurate in terms of the sequence of events which have unfolded during the current crisis and also in terms of the events of the 2007 and 2008 seasons. It is on the basis of this information that I put myself firmly in your corner and it is also on this basis, that all your other supporters choose to support your position.
I think it is clear there are three parties in this mess; the Cork County Board, Gerald MacCarthy and the 2008 Hurling Panel. I think your predicament is the most difficult. Whilst you have been backed by the Board, they still stand under the title ‘The Cork County Board’ which is numerous in its members . The 2008 Hurling Panel stand together as thirty. You however, stand isolated, having your credentials as a person and hurling manager called into question in the most public arena. Still, you have remained open to finding a solution, but others are unwilling to engage in dialogue.
Last Saturday, a large crowd walked through the streets in Cork City in support of the Hurling Panel. It was a smart move on the Hurling Panel’s behalf. Stage a march at the peak time of the busiest day of the week. It naturally swelled the crowd with every Tom, Dick and Harry participating in the publicity stunt. Also, to do it the day before the NHL opener was always going to allow the comparison between the swelled crowd on the Grand Parade and the paltry crowd in the Pairc. How many of the marchers were in the Pairc when the 2008 Panel scrapped past Dublin in last year’s qualifier? How many of them would have been in the Pairc last Sunday, in miserable weather conditions, if it were the 2008 Panel on show? Are these people G.A.A. people? Do they understand what makes our organisation tick? Or do the delegates of the clubs, who devote so much voluntarily to the G.A.A., reflect the feeling of the Cork G.A.A. public? I hope it is the latter.
I’m disappointed to see how a portion of the Cork Hurling public have abandoned the principles on which the G.A.A. was built, to nail their flag to the post of a group of people who are threatening to bring the G.A.A. down a road which will cause unrepairable damage. John Gardner’s comment on Primetime was a defining moment for me. When he was said professionalism was not on the agenda ‘at the moment’, any support I may have had for them disappeared.
Every time you speak, you do so in a very eloquent manner and one can’t but be impressed. I was moved when I heard you speak about your own pride in leading our young team out last Sunday. The game against Tipperary presents you and your team a huge challenge. The timing of the meeting between the ’08 Panel and the club representatives is clearly to try and leverage a potentially bad result to gain the support of the clubs.
However, I hope the clubs show they are aligned with their delegates and demonstrate their support for you. The 2008 Panel should disband, go their seperate ways and be free to choose the hurling path which each of its members wish to follow. The footballers should also withdraw their strike threat (which post-NFL timing was not so well aligned with the disband/don’t disband decision this Sunday) and focus on their own task.
Whatever happens, I thank you for standing up for what you and many of us believe in. I hope your actions will have the necessary effect to help protect our County and Association from spiralling to the point of no return. You were a legend to my father’s generation and now your legend grows and crosses impacts another generation.
Thank you for what your are doing for our County.
Good Luck
Dave Barrett
First of all, I write to you assuming a couple of things to be gospel. They are that all of your communication to date, has been accurate in terms of the sequence of events which have unfolded during the current crisis and also in terms of the events of the 2007 and 2008 seasons. It is on the basis of this information that I put myself firmly in your corner and it is also on this basis, that all your other supporters choose to support your position.
I think it is clear there are three parties in this mess; the Cork County Board, Gerald MacCarthy and the 2008 Hurling Panel. I think your predicament is the most difficult. Whilst you have been backed by the Board, they still stand under the title ‘The Cork County Board’ which is numerous in its members . The 2008 Hurling Panel stand together as thirty. You however, stand isolated, having your credentials as a person and hurling manager called into question in the most public arena. Still, you have remained open to finding a solution, but others are unwilling to engage in dialogue.
Last Saturday, a large crowd walked through the streets in Cork City in support of the Hurling Panel. It was a smart move on the Hurling Panel’s behalf. Stage a march at the peak time of the busiest day of the week. It naturally swelled the crowd with every Tom, Dick and Harry participating in the publicity stunt. Also, to do it the day before the NHL opener was always going to allow the comparison between the swelled crowd on the Grand Parade and the paltry crowd in the Pairc. How many of the marchers were in the Pairc when the 2008 Panel scrapped past Dublin in last year’s qualifier? How many of them would have been in the Pairc last Sunday, in miserable weather conditions, if it were the 2008 Panel on show? Are these people G.A.A. people? Do they understand what makes our organisation tick? Or do the delegates of the clubs, who devote so much voluntarily to the G.A.A., reflect the feeling of the Cork G.A.A. public? I hope it is the latter.
I’m disappointed to see how a portion of the Cork Hurling public have abandoned the principles on which the G.A.A. was built, to nail their flag to the post of a group of people who are threatening to bring the G.A.A. down a road which will cause unrepairable damage. John Gardner’s comment on Primetime was a defining moment for me. When he was said professionalism was not on the agenda ‘at the moment’, any support I may have had for them disappeared.
Every time you speak, you do so in a very eloquent manner and one can’t but be impressed. I was moved when I heard you speak about your own pride in leading our young team out last Sunday. The game against Tipperary presents you and your team a huge challenge. The timing of the meeting between the ’08 Panel and the club representatives is clearly to try and leverage a potentially bad result to gain the support of the clubs.
However, I hope the clubs show they are aligned with their delegates and demonstrate their support for you. The 2008 Panel should disband, go their seperate ways and be free to choose the hurling path which each of its members wish to follow. The footballers should also withdraw their strike threat (which post-NFL timing was not so well aligned with the disband/don’t disband decision this Sunday) and focus on their own task.
Whatever happens, I thank you for standing up for what you and many of us believe in. I hope your actions will have the necessary effect to help protect our County and Association from spiralling to the point of no return. You were a legend to my father’s generation and now your legend grows and crosses impacts another generation.
Thank you for what your are doing for our County.
Good Luck
Dave Barrett
Friday, February 13, 2009
Changing Faces, Changing Places
First game in the South-East Junior Hurling league sometime around 1997. Kinsale hurlers travel to Minane Bridge with 12 'hurlers' on a miserably dour day. By half time Joe Coughlan has the jeans tucked into the wellies and is waving the hurley whilst bellowing for the ball. Jimmy Hurley is sauntering around the full forward line trying to look dangerous whilst son Chris is also togged out, prematurely making his adult debut. Joe and Jimmy retired a long time ago and Chris had barely taken his first steps into Minor but together they completed the 15. Things got better as the years went on but such is the disregard many G.A.A. players have for league and challenge games, we often struggled to get the necessary numbers, particularily early in the season, even up to the field for a game.
The European tournament fixture list was issued this week. In hurling we have the usual spins to Den Hague, Luxembourg, Zurich and our own venue in Tervuren. An added 'bonus' this year is 3.5hr trek down to Paris. Our closest away journey is Den Hague which is a good two hours and means a departure time of 07h30 from Shuman Roundabout. Our furthest will be Zurich.
Last year i got the train to the Swiss city with a few others whilst the rest went by car. It was one of the most punishing experiences of my life. Nine hours listening to Willie ramble on aimlessly about Tipperary hurling on a jammed packed train is a penance which would be disproportionate to the worst of sins. In Basel there was a bit of drama when we had to unexpectadely go through passport control and the passportless Emmett had to fumble out a tattered Belgian ID card. Surrounded by men with wooden sticks, the Swiss Garda preferred to usher us through rather than engaging with the armed men.
Having survived the trip down, we duly won our first hurling tournament of the year and after a heavy night on the sauce, we boarded the train to Brussels around midday Sunday. A frantic search for an offy took place shortly before departure and when the six of us reconvened we were stocked with about 60 cans of beer and a small keg of Heinekin. Much merriment ensued as the train became more full with each stop. The name game (if you don't know what it is then google it) pushed us over the edge. Playing the Premiership version of it, we had whittled the contestants down to three. Then all hell broke loose as my turn came round on the letter 'B'. Bryan Hughes was shot down and voices rose as the debate ran riot, isolated by the silence which gripped our co-passengers. In protest at my fellow contestants' ignorance I withdrew from the game with a huff and a puff.
Calm had been restored when we pulled into Shuman station just after 20h. We proudly marched our hurleys and our trophy down Rue Archimede and into The Hairy Canary, not a renowned venue for Sunday night banter. Shuman had never seen the likes of it and the party continued through the night and into the early hours of Monday morning. One of many memorable trips in 2008.
On the football front, we have our four Benelux venues of Den Hague, Luxembourg, Maastricht and Amsterdam whilst the Pan-European fixtures see us travel to Munich, Copenhagen, Rennes and Maastricht. Munich was our worst performance last season but our most important tournament in terms of laying the seeds from which the team would grow. Both our lads and girls teams travelled down on Friday on various flights and toured the city by foot. The tournament was played on a sweltering hot day which ensured over two hundred bright red heads shuffled in the doors of one of the Bavarian city's famous beer halls for the evenings banquet.
With jugs of beer flying around, it was not long before the days performance was forgotten and we started interviewing the ladies footballers from around Europe. It was the first time we had been away together for a whole weekend and it brought the team together, whetting the appetite for further adventures.
Last year we travelled to 11 tournaments whilst this year we have 13 journeys to make. It is a massive time and financial committment from the lads. Many of the teams can only get it together for one year, giving it a right lash to win it outright. They suffer the next year as lads can't afford to repeat the committment. That's the challenge we face this year on the back of a very successful first year. I reckon those who travelled to all the venues last year forked out between €2000 and €3000 to do so. It's a big ask.
New faces will be key to keeping the energy flowing through the team this year. Last night we had 16 at training and it was the real kick-off of this seasons training. We are preparing to say farewell to some of last years heroes but also opening the door to new blood. Eoghan and James are here on short term assignments from Cork. Mayo man Ruairi has come via Poland to reignite a GAA career which lay dorment for many years. More will arrive and more will leave. Whatever happens, and even in the alsence of a Jimmy, Joe or Chris, we will fill cars, trains and planes and travel the continent to pursue our desire to play Hurling and Gaelic Football.
The European tournament fixture list was issued this week. In hurling we have the usual spins to Den Hague, Luxembourg, Zurich and our own venue in Tervuren. An added 'bonus' this year is 3.5hr trek down to Paris. Our closest away journey is Den Hague which is a good two hours and means a departure time of 07h30 from Shuman Roundabout. Our furthest will be Zurich.
Last year i got the train to the Swiss city with a few others whilst the rest went by car. It was one of the most punishing experiences of my life. Nine hours listening to Willie ramble on aimlessly about Tipperary hurling on a jammed packed train is a penance which would be disproportionate to the worst of sins. In Basel there was a bit of drama when we had to unexpectadely go through passport control and the passportless Emmett had to fumble out a tattered Belgian ID card. Surrounded by men with wooden sticks, the Swiss Garda preferred to usher us through rather than engaging with the armed men.
Having survived the trip down, we duly won our first hurling tournament of the year and after a heavy night on the sauce, we boarded the train to Brussels around midday Sunday. A frantic search for an offy took place shortly before departure and when the six of us reconvened we were stocked with about 60 cans of beer and a small keg of Heinekin. Much merriment ensued as the train became more full with each stop. The name game (if you don't know what it is then google it) pushed us over the edge. Playing the Premiership version of it, we had whittled the contestants down to three. Then all hell broke loose as my turn came round on the letter 'B'. Bryan Hughes was shot down and voices rose as the debate ran riot, isolated by the silence which gripped our co-passengers. In protest at my fellow contestants' ignorance I withdrew from the game with a huff and a puff.
Calm had been restored when we pulled into Shuman station just after 20h. We proudly marched our hurleys and our trophy down Rue Archimede and into The Hairy Canary, not a renowned venue for Sunday night banter. Shuman had never seen the likes of it and the party continued through the night and into the early hours of Monday morning. One of many memorable trips in 2008.
On the football front, we have our four Benelux venues of Den Hague, Luxembourg, Maastricht and Amsterdam whilst the Pan-European fixtures see us travel to Munich, Copenhagen, Rennes and Maastricht. Munich was our worst performance last season but our most important tournament in terms of laying the seeds from which the team would grow. Both our lads and girls teams travelled down on Friday on various flights and toured the city by foot. The tournament was played on a sweltering hot day which ensured over two hundred bright red heads shuffled in the doors of one of the Bavarian city's famous beer halls for the evenings banquet.
With jugs of beer flying around, it was not long before the days performance was forgotten and we started interviewing the ladies footballers from around Europe. It was the first time we had been away together for a whole weekend and it brought the team together, whetting the appetite for further adventures.
Last year we travelled to 11 tournaments whilst this year we have 13 journeys to make. It is a massive time and financial committment from the lads. Many of the teams can only get it together for one year, giving it a right lash to win it outright. They suffer the next year as lads can't afford to repeat the committment. That's the challenge we face this year on the back of a very successful first year. I reckon those who travelled to all the venues last year forked out between €2000 and €3000 to do so. It's a big ask.
New faces will be key to keeping the energy flowing through the team this year. Last night we had 16 at training and it was the real kick-off of this seasons training. We are preparing to say farewell to some of last years heroes but also opening the door to new blood. Eoghan and James are here on short term assignments from Cork. Mayo man Ruairi has come via Poland to reignite a GAA career which lay dorment for many years. More will arrive and more will leave. Whatever happens, and even in the alsence of a Jimmy, Joe or Chris, we will fill cars, trains and planes and travel the continent to pursue our desire to play Hurling and Gaelic Football.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
AGM
I can't sleep before these things. Conchur was sending me provocative emails all week trying to rise me. I withstood a number of them. I was too busy to reply to the rest. I replied anyway. He ignores my response. My blood boils. Then I receive the agenda and the motions. So he did read my mail. My genius is heavily reflected, but wait, 'Conchur de Barra' is attached to all but one. I take it as a back handed compliment and opt to let it slide. But then as I drove the outgoing Chairman to the meeting, he tells me that he is going to throw out the one motion which my name is attached too. He is pushing me...
The meeting starts at the appointed time of 18h30 with near thirty people in attendance. Conchur rattles off his few words. We are all holding a copy of the 7 page Secretary's report and brace ourselves for an unmerciful rant. However, Becky has very wisely decided to summarise key points. Excellent report, excellent delivery.
On to the treasurers report, Conchur has made it in such a way that he has consolidated anything controversial under uncontroversial headings. Very smart. Next the officers. It was all wrapped up late in the preceeding week. Olof Gill of Clare Island and Sweden is our new Chairman and Kevin Keary is Vice Chairman. A double headed beast if ever I saw one. Both spoke well at different times during the meeting and both have a healthy respect for the ladies football and hurling which is important. They will be good if they can maintain their enthusiasim. Both featured heavily in the club last year. I will treat it as a development opportunity for them and challenge everything they do, say or propose.
Willie is back as treasurer, he just won't go away. Clare Applebe is in as Social Secretary and Laura Whiskard as Football Officer. The Bomber is Equipment Officer whilst sidekick Eoin leads fundraising activity. There seems to be an officer job for everyone in the audience. The Irish army isn't as well equiped. Still, if they all do what they are supposed to than it could be a good year.
Numerious motions were floated. Nothing major to report. There is genuine interest in strengthening our links to FC Irlande. This is important as we have many players involved in both and they were very good to us last year as we tried to grow. On numerous occasions they gave us use of their facilities at no cost. It was very much appreciated and one of the thoughts behind this motion is that we should be in a position to repay their kindness.
The meeting ends at 20h on the button, as scheduled. Martin, our Hurling trainer, has the last word and thanks Conchur for his contribution. Conchur took the chairmanship last year and I was disappointed he didn't give it another year. Still, he put great structures in place which will serve us well. He steered the club through the rocky waters of our expansion into the footballing world. He managed all the different and challenging personalities that came with it (and existed already!) and now many of them will now help fill the void he leaves.
So good luck to all who took a job and I hope you can drive the club forward to greater things. I leave you to your tasks with an appropriate quote;
'Committment is doing what you said you were going to do, long after the mood that you said it in has left you'.
The meeting starts at the appointed time of 18h30 with near thirty people in attendance. Conchur rattles off his few words. We are all holding a copy of the 7 page Secretary's report and brace ourselves for an unmerciful rant. However, Becky has very wisely decided to summarise key points. Excellent report, excellent delivery.
On to the treasurers report, Conchur has made it in such a way that he has consolidated anything controversial under uncontroversial headings. Very smart. Next the officers. It was all wrapped up late in the preceeding week. Olof Gill of Clare Island and Sweden is our new Chairman and Kevin Keary is Vice Chairman. A double headed beast if ever I saw one. Both spoke well at different times during the meeting and both have a healthy respect for the ladies football and hurling which is important. They will be good if they can maintain their enthusiasim. Both featured heavily in the club last year. I will treat it as a development opportunity for them and challenge everything they do, say or propose.
Willie is back as treasurer, he just won't go away. Clare Applebe is in as Social Secretary and Laura Whiskard as Football Officer. The Bomber is Equipment Officer whilst sidekick Eoin leads fundraising activity. There seems to be an officer job for everyone in the audience. The Irish army isn't as well equiped. Still, if they all do what they are supposed to than it could be a good year.
Numerious motions were floated. Nothing major to report. There is genuine interest in strengthening our links to FC Irlande. This is important as we have many players involved in both and they were very good to us last year as we tried to grow. On numerous occasions they gave us use of their facilities at no cost. It was very much appreciated and one of the thoughts behind this motion is that we should be in a position to repay their kindness.
The meeting ends at 20h on the button, as scheduled. Martin, our Hurling trainer, has the last word and thanks Conchur for his contribution. Conchur took the chairmanship last year and I was disappointed he didn't give it another year. Still, he put great structures in place which will serve us well. He steered the club through the rocky waters of our expansion into the footballing world. He managed all the different and challenging personalities that came with it (and existed already!) and now many of them will now help fill the void he leaves.
So good luck to all who took a job and I hope you can drive the club forward to greater things. I leave you to your tasks with an appropriate quote;
'Committment is doing what you said you were going to do, long after the mood that you said it in has left you'.
Fitness Test
Last Thursday we had a fitness test in the hall. Put simply, it was a 25m grid with markers at each 5m mark. Duration 6 minutes. You do shuttles on the grid for 30 seconds and then get 30 seconds break, six times. Each 5m section is recorded and the total at the end of the six goes is your score.
I expected a big turnout but as 21h approach I was losing players. Conan rang me to say there was something wrong with his car key. He wanted me to ring Eoin, who he was picking up, to tell him he would be late. I hung-up and before I could dial Eoin's number, Eoin called me to ask me to tell Conan he was running a little late. There were a further two phone calls and a text before I got out of the car but none of the three of us could solve the problem. No Conan mean't no weighing scales.
Matti called me to tell me he was lost. Ruairi was driving and they were somewhere in Woluwe. I asked Matti had he not been to the British School before. He replied 'yes, but I wasn't paying attention' (no fault there, I'd be the same). So Matti, do you guys have GPS? 'Yes, but we didn't bring the address'. End of conversation.
Next up was Johnny Quigley. 'Dave. I'm at Shuman but there is no-one here'. It is now twenty to nine, twenty minutes after the appointed departure time. Johnny is a good guy, never has the right footwear, but a good guy. I think he is an orchestra conductor, possibly the coolest job of all of us. If he can conduct an orchestra, you would think he could get himself to Shuman on time! Anyway. Matti & Ruairi made it. Eoin, Conan and Johnny didn't.
When you read what the fitness test involves, it sounds pretty handy. I've only done it a few times and always found it horrific. Yet, when one approaches, I question whether it is actually that bad and if the lads will get anything out of it. Tonight, my feelings about it were reconfirmed. About half-way through the second thirty seconds, I wanted to give up. Once you get to the fifth though you know you have broked the back of it.
I recorded a score which I was a bit disappointed with. Keary was next to me and I think he was pacing himself against me. He stole 10m on me in the second run and I never recovered it. Although, Cluxton was recording my score and he is flakey at the best of times. I may appeal. We followed this by a press-up test and then recorded some basic details such as height, weight and telephone numbers.
With the purpose of the evening being the fitness test, we then opted for a game of indoor soccer. We started a man down (he shall be referred to as Player X). After the fitness test, Player X retired to the toilets for a lengthy period. On his return, he joined the soccer but stood still and pale. He then handed over his keys and was driven home. Mistimed dinner was the diagnosis but even with this ailment he recorded a high score in fairness.
I have a mixed view on fitness tests. I believe you have guys who do very well in them but don't have the work rate to utilise it in matches. On the other hand, some lads get fairly average scores yet get through an amount of work in matches. Still, whatever your thoughts on them, we will record the scores and re-check every month, hopefully making progress along the way. Its good to have personal targets and chase them. We won't publish the list for now but I know Keary is 10m ahead of me and I'll want to chase him down.
I expected a big turnout but as 21h approach I was losing players. Conan rang me to say there was something wrong with his car key. He wanted me to ring Eoin, who he was picking up, to tell him he would be late. I hung-up and before I could dial Eoin's number, Eoin called me to ask me to tell Conan he was running a little late. There were a further two phone calls and a text before I got out of the car but none of the three of us could solve the problem. No Conan mean't no weighing scales.
Matti called me to tell me he was lost. Ruairi was driving and they were somewhere in Woluwe. I asked Matti had he not been to the British School before. He replied 'yes, but I wasn't paying attention' (no fault there, I'd be the same). So Matti, do you guys have GPS? 'Yes, but we didn't bring the address'. End of conversation.
Next up was Johnny Quigley. 'Dave. I'm at Shuman but there is no-one here'. It is now twenty to nine, twenty minutes after the appointed departure time. Johnny is a good guy, never has the right footwear, but a good guy. I think he is an orchestra conductor, possibly the coolest job of all of us. If he can conduct an orchestra, you would think he could get himself to Shuman on time! Anyway. Matti & Ruairi made it. Eoin, Conan and Johnny didn't.
When you read what the fitness test involves, it sounds pretty handy. I've only done it a few times and always found it horrific. Yet, when one approaches, I question whether it is actually that bad and if the lads will get anything out of it. Tonight, my feelings about it were reconfirmed. About half-way through the second thirty seconds, I wanted to give up. Once you get to the fifth though you know you have broked the back of it.
I recorded a score which I was a bit disappointed with. Keary was next to me and I think he was pacing himself against me. He stole 10m on me in the second run and I never recovered it. Although, Cluxton was recording my score and he is flakey at the best of times. I may appeal. We followed this by a press-up test and then recorded some basic details such as height, weight and telephone numbers.
With the purpose of the evening being the fitness test, we then opted for a game of indoor soccer. We started a man down (he shall be referred to as Player X). After the fitness test, Player X retired to the toilets for a lengthy period. On his return, he joined the soccer but stood still and pale. He then handed over his keys and was driven home. Mistimed dinner was the diagnosis but even with this ailment he recorded a high score in fairness.
I have a mixed view on fitness tests. I believe you have guys who do very well in them but don't have the work rate to utilise it in matches. On the other hand, some lads get fairly average scores yet get through an amount of work in matches. Still, whatever your thoughts on them, we will record the scores and re-check every month, hopefully making progress along the way. Its good to have personal targets and chase them. We won't publish the list for now but I know Keary is 10m ahead of me and I'll want to chase him down.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Transfer Deadline Day
Oh how the snow nearly ruined the drama of transfer deadline day in the soccer world. Planes remained on the ground all over England, cars stood at a stand still and players were under house arrest. All the pending excitement of the day threathened to be thwarted by the extreme winter weather. It made me wonder how our little island's history may have been altered if we were prone to such snow blizzards on a more regular basis. Would the English have stayed at home and let us go about our business without harassment? Who knows!
The big move of the day saw Robbie Keane return to Tottenham Hotspur after an ill-fated six month spell on Merseyside. Wolves, Coventry, Inter Milan, Leeds, Spurs, Liverpool & back to Spurs. Have I missed anyone? And still shy of his 30th birthday I believe? He must be up there with the top players in the world in terms of money spent on him in his career. And of course I'm sure he picked up healthy signing fees all along the way also.
To put it in GAA terms, it would be akin to Graham Canty (Cork don't have forwards so I can't quite compare apples with apples) transferring from Cork, a top tier GAA team, to Dublin, a second tier team. Graham, the inspirational leader of the Cork team, would move to the Dubs and declare it was his childhood dream to be a jackeen. However, things go a bit pear shaped after Dublin bow out of the Leinster Chapionship and are dumped into the qualifiers. The mountainy man from Bantry had a rough start to his capital career and inexplicably Conor Counihan offers him an escape route back to The Rebel County. However, it emerges that Donal Og Cusack has rallied the Cork footballers and they have threatened to go on strike if he is not reinstated, not only in the team, but as captain also. Understanding how pig headed his charges could be, Counihan opted for the easy life and accepted the prodigal son back. Canty returns to a heroes welcome and declares it was all a big misunderstanding and he should never have left.
Can you imagine? I won't get into the professionalism debate but this is the type of bollix we would be dealing with all the time if we went down that road. There is no transfer window as such in the G.A.A. but at this time of year the activity is at a peak. I can only speak for Cork but the discussion forums are full of rumour about who is going where and why? Will the club let the player go without opposing or will they object and ensure the player has to down his boots for 52 (or is it 96) weeks?
We are fortunate in Cork that players tend not to transfer to other clubs too often. Occasionally an outstanding hurler from a small Junior B club may move to a Senior club nearby. Due to the gap in playing level no history or rivalry exists between teams and it may be deemed acceptable by the club and they will wish him well. Other times bitter disputes occur and the player is lost to our games for a prolonged period, rightly or wrongly.
The man who bides his time, lets his punishment elapse and goes ahead with his move, can be sure that their will be no Christmas drink awaiting him in his hometown. Where I'm from it would be like crossing the bridge to play for Courcey Rovers or heading out the Bandon Road to play for Valley Rovers. For a long time Valleys played at a higher level than us in both codes and Courceys in hurling. During that period, and during my playing career at home, I never saw someone cross that line. It would be unacceptable.
My generation of players, at least the ones that moved away remained committed to the cause. Two exceptions were the Buckley brothers, Niall and Padraig, who transferred to Oliver Plunketts in Dublin in the early 2000's. They went with our best wishes and had a very successful spell there, with Padraig captaining Plunketts one of the years. Their time there would cost them however, as they would miss the 2oo1 County Final against Ilen Rovers. I have vague memories of Padraig telling me of the disappointment he felt by not being involved in that match. Had we had the duo, we may have made a better job of holding our half-time lead.
Fast forward to 2005. Niall has been back to the club but since moved on to London. Brother Padraig though is firmly installed back in the blue and white hoops of Kinsale. Our panel had up to seven Dublin based players, who trained in a dark corner of UCD's Belfield campus night after night (and still do to this day). Ricky was based in London and I had been based in Brussels since the South-East semi-final.
That year a weary group of players was resurrected and negotiated its way through the South-East and two enthralling clashes against Ballyclough in the County quarter-final. We came unstuck against eventual County champions Erins Own in Buttevant late in November at the Semi-Final stage. I couldn't get off the pitch fast enough that day. My brother and my uncle blocked my path between the gate of the pitch and the dressing room. I managed to evade their outstretched arms. The tears were only hidden by the rain drops rolling down my face. I showered quickly and after we had one drink together in the local pub I headed back up to Dublin with Conor O'Brien and a couple of others. A 06h30 flight the next morning had me at my desk in Brussels by 09h30. It is the last Championship match I played with Kinsale.
Robbie Keane has played his last game for his boyhood heroes. Today, he is considerably more wealthy than he was yesterday. The fickle nature of soccer will allow him return to the club he forced a transfer from a few months ago, with barely a dissenting voice. Robbie Keane can never understand what love for a club is, nor can any of his colleagues, no matter how good they are at pretending.
The big move of the day saw Robbie Keane return to Tottenham Hotspur after an ill-fated six month spell on Merseyside. Wolves, Coventry, Inter Milan, Leeds, Spurs, Liverpool & back to Spurs. Have I missed anyone? And still shy of his 30th birthday I believe? He must be up there with the top players in the world in terms of money spent on him in his career. And of course I'm sure he picked up healthy signing fees all along the way also.
To put it in GAA terms, it would be akin to Graham Canty (Cork don't have forwards so I can't quite compare apples with apples) transferring from Cork, a top tier GAA team, to Dublin, a second tier team. Graham, the inspirational leader of the Cork team, would move to the Dubs and declare it was his childhood dream to be a jackeen. However, things go a bit pear shaped after Dublin bow out of the Leinster Chapionship and are dumped into the qualifiers. The mountainy man from Bantry had a rough start to his capital career and inexplicably Conor Counihan offers him an escape route back to The Rebel County. However, it emerges that Donal Og Cusack has rallied the Cork footballers and they have threatened to go on strike if he is not reinstated, not only in the team, but as captain also. Understanding how pig headed his charges could be, Counihan opted for the easy life and accepted the prodigal son back. Canty returns to a heroes welcome and declares it was all a big misunderstanding and he should never have left.
Can you imagine? I won't get into the professionalism debate but this is the type of bollix we would be dealing with all the time if we went down that road. There is no transfer window as such in the G.A.A. but at this time of year the activity is at a peak. I can only speak for Cork but the discussion forums are full of rumour about who is going where and why? Will the club let the player go without opposing or will they object and ensure the player has to down his boots for 52 (or is it 96) weeks?
We are fortunate in Cork that players tend not to transfer to other clubs too often. Occasionally an outstanding hurler from a small Junior B club may move to a Senior club nearby. Due to the gap in playing level no history or rivalry exists between teams and it may be deemed acceptable by the club and they will wish him well. Other times bitter disputes occur and the player is lost to our games for a prolonged period, rightly or wrongly.
The man who bides his time, lets his punishment elapse and goes ahead with his move, can be sure that their will be no Christmas drink awaiting him in his hometown. Where I'm from it would be like crossing the bridge to play for Courcey Rovers or heading out the Bandon Road to play for Valley Rovers. For a long time Valleys played at a higher level than us in both codes and Courceys in hurling. During that period, and during my playing career at home, I never saw someone cross that line. It would be unacceptable.
My generation of players, at least the ones that moved away remained committed to the cause. Two exceptions were the Buckley brothers, Niall and Padraig, who transferred to Oliver Plunketts in Dublin in the early 2000's. They went with our best wishes and had a very successful spell there, with Padraig captaining Plunketts one of the years. Their time there would cost them however, as they would miss the 2oo1 County Final against Ilen Rovers. I have vague memories of Padraig telling me of the disappointment he felt by not being involved in that match. Had we had the duo, we may have made a better job of holding our half-time lead.
Fast forward to 2005. Niall has been back to the club but since moved on to London. Brother Padraig though is firmly installed back in the blue and white hoops of Kinsale. Our panel had up to seven Dublin based players, who trained in a dark corner of UCD's Belfield campus night after night (and still do to this day). Ricky was based in London and I had been based in Brussels since the South-East semi-final.
That year a weary group of players was resurrected and negotiated its way through the South-East and two enthralling clashes against Ballyclough in the County quarter-final. We came unstuck against eventual County champions Erins Own in Buttevant late in November at the Semi-Final stage. I couldn't get off the pitch fast enough that day. My brother and my uncle blocked my path between the gate of the pitch and the dressing room. I managed to evade their outstretched arms. The tears were only hidden by the rain drops rolling down my face. I showered quickly and after we had one drink together in the local pub I headed back up to Dublin with Conor O'Brien and a couple of others. A 06h30 flight the next morning had me at my desk in Brussels by 09h30. It is the last Championship match I played with Kinsale.
Robbie Keane has played his last game for his boyhood heroes. Today, he is considerably more wealthy than he was yesterday. The fickle nature of soccer will allow him return to the club he forced a transfer from a few months ago, with barely a dissenting voice. Robbie Keane can never understand what love for a club is, nor can any of his colleagues, no matter how good they are at pretending.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Pride
From its position at the rear of Hill 16, the camera caught Croke Park in all its glory. After an evening of unrivalled entertainment involving free flowing & high scoring football, music, fireworks and a spectacular light show, it was the final scene which threatened to tug a tear from our drunken eyes. The light show was in its final act. The Cusack Stand stood cast in a green haze, The Canal End in white and The Hogan Stand in orange. Croke Park, illuminated by the tricolour, our country's flag, sat still in honour of the fantastic association we call the G.A.A.
It was the kick-off of the 125th Anniversary celebrations of the Association and the G.A.A. pulled out all the stops. As with most things they do, there was no shortage of criticisim ahead of the big night. The expense associated with the evening was most people's main agitator. However, for any Irish person watching from their seat in Croke Park, at home or in the pub, it could not have failed to stir the emotions.
The G.A.A. is an organisation which consistently heralds the volunteers who cut the grass, paint the posts, train the teams and wash the jerseys (to name just a few of their activities). The night was as much about celebrating their work over the past 125 years as it was the anniversary itself.
I watched the evening unfold from my perch in de Valera's in Place Flagey, Brussels. Sitting with Kerry, Cavan, Cork, Dublin, Wicklow, Tipperary and Donegal men & women, the pride which emanated from our section of the bar was immense. The banter flew from table to table as Dublin and Tyrone gave a footballing endorsement of the new rules. I chuckled as I watched the Dubs in our company leap with excitement as they took the lead in the closing stages. However, at the final whistle their heads hung low as the Red Hands swept them aside. From a Dublin point of view it was probably an ideal result as it keeps their notoriously high expectations in check for another week or two and will let the team continue its prepartions in a more realistic environment.
Some quality but inappropriately timed live music was overwhelming the sound from the TV so practically all the dialogue and music was lost to us. Still, we sat in awe as the fireworks and lightshow released the energy of thousands of G.A.A. members across the country. Personally, it made me feel incredibly proud to be part of the G.A.A. and to be Irish. I don't know how those at home felt but for all of us watching from abroad, it succeeded in bringing a tear to my eyes and those around me.
Ten or twenty minutes of chest beating and self-appreciation followed the end of the show. However, as you would expect from any gathering of the G.A.A. the emotion became localised very quickly and heated debates ensued regarding all things G.A.A., with the Cork hurlers featuring prominently, and they continued late into the night.
What an organisation it is. Binding us together and contributing strongly to our national identity, making us proud of the counties from which we hail, but more importantly, giving our towns & villages and their people, the sense of community and togetherness from which they can thrive.
It was the kick-off of the 125th Anniversary celebrations of the Association and the G.A.A. pulled out all the stops. As with most things they do, there was no shortage of criticisim ahead of the big night. The expense associated with the evening was most people's main agitator. However, for any Irish person watching from their seat in Croke Park, at home or in the pub, it could not have failed to stir the emotions.
The G.A.A. is an organisation which consistently heralds the volunteers who cut the grass, paint the posts, train the teams and wash the jerseys (to name just a few of their activities). The night was as much about celebrating their work over the past 125 years as it was the anniversary itself.
I watched the evening unfold from my perch in de Valera's in Place Flagey, Brussels. Sitting with Kerry, Cavan, Cork, Dublin, Wicklow, Tipperary and Donegal men & women, the pride which emanated from our section of the bar was immense. The banter flew from table to table as Dublin and Tyrone gave a footballing endorsement of the new rules. I chuckled as I watched the Dubs in our company leap with excitement as they took the lead in the closing stages. However, at the final whistle their heads hung low as the Red Hands swept them aside. From a Dublin point of view it was probably an ideal result as it keeps their notoriously high expectations in check for another week or two and will let the team continue its prepartions in a more realistic environment.
Some quality but inappropriately timed live music was overwhelming the sound from the TV so practically all the dialogue and music was lost to us. Still, we sat in awe as the fireworks and lightshow released the energy of thousands of G.A.A. members across the country. Personally, it made me feel incredibly proud to be part of the G.A.A. and to be Irish. I don't know how those at home felt but for all of us watching from abroad, it succeeded in bringing a tear to my eyes and those around me.
Ten or twenty minutes of chest beating and self-appreciation followed the end of the show. However, as you would expect from any gathering of the G.A.A. the emotion became localised very quickly and heated debates ensued regarding all things G.A.A., with the Cork hurlers featuring prominently, and they continued late into the night.
What an organisation it is. Binding us together and contributing strongly to our national identity, making us proud of the counties from which we hail, but more importantly, giving our towns & villages and their people, the sense of community and togetherness from which they can thrive.
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