McDonald's are sponsoring some sort of hurling promotion at moment where the big bucks of the most famous restaurant chain on planet Earth are being used to promote and keep alive this most ancient, and Irish, of games.
How noble of them. Plenty of hurling should certainly help our young people run off the vast amount of condition they would gain on any one visit to McDonald's, so there's a pleasing symmetry about all this. However, their choice of hurler to promote this enterprise, currently pictured on those papers they put on the tray, is a surprising one. Who is that man nervously balancing a sliothar on the bás of his camán, surrounded by adoring young people decked out in McDonald's sportswear? Is it DJ Carey, or is he too busy chasing up and down after criminals on the dual carriageways of Erin? DJ's fellow top Cat Eddie Keher perhaps, a well known enemy of the drink and thus surely in favour of any move to keep young people away from John Barleycorn? Setanta Ó hAlpín would have been marvellous, if he hadn't fecked off to Oz. Jamesie? Leahy? The only man left in Wexford who's still on the panel?
None of the above. Who is it only that well know Laoch na hIomanaíochta, Searbhreatnach Mac Loch an Adhmaid. Or, to give him his slave name, Justin Timberlake.
Jesus H. Christ. Have we no pride at all?
