Why I’ll always be a sporting loser

My favourite football team lost to another football team last weekend and this made me want to roll around the floor kicking and punching the ground like a small child. The defeat was hard to take but what disappointed me most was I thought I’d moved beyond letting the inability of young men to kick a ball affect me like this.

My teens and twenties were spent having my emotions kicked all over the pitches of Ireland. It was a rollercoaster existence and, frankly, no way to live.

In recent years I’d managed to smash the emotional chains that bound me to the feet of young men. “I’m mildly disappointed now,” I’d tell myself, “but it is illogical to allow the sporting travails of these young fellows impact my joie de vivre.” I’d say it in French to emphasise how clever I was. I’d then skip into the distance, offering a haughty chuckle at how foolish I once was.

Continue reading “Why I’ll always be a sporting loser”

The sport that dare not speak its name: The curious history of the League of Ireland

This weekend sees the resumption of one of Ireland’s most curious seasonal events. Across the country people will gather at various locations to scream and shout at institutions whose foundations pre-date the State.

If the kick-off of the 2015 League of Ireland season isn’t in your diary, you are far from alone. In a country where hurling and Gaelic football are the mammy and daddy of sport and rugby is the over-achieving favourite son, domestic football is the estranged cousin who turns up drunk to family occasions, starts a fight and then falls down the stairs with their trousers around their ankles.

Continue reading “The sport that dare not speak its name: The curious history of the League of Ireland”

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