Sunday, February 17, 2008

Don't Panic - It's Only the League!

Dig no briar graves. Heat neither pitch nor tar, and leave the chicken her feathers on this cold winter’s night. The sweet county Mayo languishes at the very bottom of the Division 1 National League standings and will visit Portlaoise in thirteen days’ time in a relegation eliminator, but what of it? It is, after all, only the league.

Donegal performed what is quickly becoming their party piece earlier today at McHale Park in Castlebar, scoring a last second goal to snatch the points, but so what? We learn more from reverses than successes, and as such Mayo can consider themselves to have done a full semester’s work this afternoon. All was sweetness and light last year in the League, and the team ended up going down a blind alley when summer arrived. Whatever else we may say of this year’s league campaign, Mayo do not seem likely to repeat that particular mistake. This year, they seem to be trying a completely different mistake.

Of course, An Spailpín Fánach’s equanimity in this matter is hardly unrelated to the fact I didn’t travel to Castlebar – had I had the four hours’ stewing in the car on the way back I might be feeling entirely different tonight. Your faithful narrator did try replicate match conditions by avoiding all media prior to the TG4 delayed transmission, meaning that Donegal’s Eamon McGee crashing home his winning goal in the fourth additional minute came as much as an unpleasant bolt from the blue as it did to Castlebar throng.

Your faithful narrator phoned two of the leading football minds in the county Mayo this evening for further analysis. The worry at home is real, not least in the absence of a pattern from management, any trace of a long term plan. It’s very hard to figure out what exactly Johnno is thinking as regards the Big Picture – last year he had the forwards playing off Barry Moran inside, whereas now the big Castlebar Mitchell is no-where to be seen, and Mayo played with a two (small) man inside line. Conor racked up the frees but once the Donegal backs copped themselves on a biteen in the second half, that scoring avenue dried up, and Plan B did not emerge. Vladimir and Estragon never waited on Godot as Mayo wait on Plan B.

But no matter – as no Mayo man can repeat often enough, it’s only the League. And maybe there’s no long term plan showing from Johnno because he hasn’t thought of one yet – it’s not like it’s been straight-forward before. If it takes until the third Sunday in September for it all to come together and Mayo have dropped a division in the meantime that will all be jake with An Spailpín Fánach. We’ve tried the other way, peaking in the Hyde on Garland Sunday only to run out of the gas by September. This February anxiety is a small price to pay.

That said, a spot of leadership wouldn’t go amiss out there. An Spailpín is delighted that Billy Padden had another good game at fullback – the criticism that great man gets beggars belief – but there was no-one up the field who was willing to take the bull by the horns when Donegal were listing towards the end of the first half and administer the coup de grâce by breaking the bull’s bloody neck and putting an end to the thing. Mayo are utterly reliant on Conor upfront, as the magnificent and comprehensive stats page of the Mayo GAA Blog clearly display. A few of those boys are going to have to step up there; let’s hope they do so in Portlaoise. While it may be only the League, losing can be become a habit, and that wouldn’t be a great idea either.





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Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Teacht Giovanni, Teitheadh Céille na hIriseoirí?

An iad na Gaeil an cine is soineanta sa domhain mór? Ag éisteacht leis an raidió um tráthnóna, agus Giovanni Trapattoni ceapaithe mar bainisteoir nua foirne sacair Poblachta na hÉireann, bhí sé cosuil le bheith sa chathair Vaiticín agus Papa nua ceapaithe. Habemus curatorem!, a d'fhoilsigh an Cairdinéal Des Cahill ón mbalcóin, agus thug an náisiún a mbeannacht do.

Ait go leor, dár leis an Spailpín Fánach. Níl fios ceart agamsa an bhfuil orm féin atá an locht, nach dtuigim mo thír ná mo ghluin i gceart le déanaí. Bhí John Delaney, ceannaire an FAI, agus Ray Houghton, ceann de na sáreolaithe a chur Giovanni Trapattoni isteach ina phost nua, mar aoithe ag Des Cahill ar a chlár raidió, agus an triúr acu ag gáire mar páistí ar Lá na Nollag. B'fhéidir le do scríobhnóir dílis tuiscint cad ba thaobh áthais Delaney agus Houghton - ní fhéidir Eamon Dunphy an maide a thabhairt dóibh as seo amach agus a fhear féin ceapaithe - ach bhí áthas Cahill níos deacra a thuiscint. Seans go raibh áthas air ar son na hÉireann, agus bainisteoir breá nua aicí anois. Ceart go leor - más gnathduine é Des Cahill. Ach is iriseoir é Des Cahill, agus tá dualgas air na ceisteanna crua a chur amach, agus a chosa a choinneál ar an dtalamh.

Cé go bhfuil naoi chraobh déag buaite ag Trapattoni, agus cé gur éirigh leis ina thír féin agus thar sáile, an bhfuil seans ann go bhfuil Trapattoni ró-shean don bpost? An chóir duine níos óige a chur isteach? An mbeadh níos mó ocrais ar duine níos óige, níos mó foinn oibre air, níos mó diabhail? Níl móran measa ag na h-óige ar an seanduine go ginéarálta, ach fágaim le huacht go bhfuil an meas is lú ag imreoirí ghairmiúla sacair ar lucht na gruaige léithe. Nuair a bhíodh Trap faoi bláth a ré mar bhainisteoir, bhí an chuid is mó imeoirí na hÉireann sa chliabhán, má bhí siad sa saol ar chur ar bith. Dár leo níl mórán dífríocht idir Giovanni Trappatoni ná Giovanni Boccaccio - nach iontaisí iadsan go leir a mhic?

Deirtear gurbh fhearr paidir chugat ná dhá phaidir i do dhiaidh, agus mar sin tugaim gach deá-ghuí don mbainisteoir Giovanni ina phost nua. Tá súil agam go dtaitneoidh Éirinn leis, agus go maithfidh sé Liam Ó Brádaigh tar éis na roinnt bréag - más fior - a d'inis an Brádach do maidir le gairmiúlacht an FAI. Cé fios - b'fhéidir go bhfuil croí Giovanni trí thine maidir le conas ar thit cúrsaí amach leis agus an Iodáil le linn a ré bainisteoireacht a thíre féin, agus ba bhreá leis, níos mó ná aon rud éile, a dhíoltas a bhaint amach - ach táim féin fós in amhras faoin scéal go leir. Feicim an easpa talainne atá ag foireann Poblachta na hÉireann i lár na páirce, an méid ina mbraitheann an fhoireann ar Stephen Ireland nó ar Lee Carsley nó an boicín breá ramhar sin, Andy Reid, agus ní feicim féin conas a gcuirfidh Giovanni Trappatoni féin síoda ar ghabhair bhocht na hÉireann.





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Friday, February 08, 2008

A Management Issue - Killing Two Birds with One Stone

Joe Mac, boyThe Republic of Ireland soccer team are without a manager. The Cork senior footballers have one manager too many. In fact, such is the agony caused by the thought of playing Teddy Holland that not only will the footballers not play under him, but the hurlers won’t play under him either, even though they don’t play under him at all. The hurlers play under their own manager, one Gerald McCarthy, who must be bemused, at the very least, by these shenanigans.

Allow An Spailpín Fánach to step forward and clear up the mess. Simply move Teddy Holland from Cork to Dublin, and have him manage the soccer players. The most of that job seems to consist of babysitting one Stephen Ireland, who famous claimed that Brian Kerr would not pick him during Kerr’s managership because Mr Ireland is from Cork. This sensitive young man is unlikely to suffer such discrimination from Teddy H.

As for the Cork footballers, who have repeatedly said that they will not play for Teddy Holland, no how, no way, that obstacle is now cleared. So just send Joe Mac of the Dixies to manage them, a man who represents his county and native heath as few others do, a man who surely lives solely on drisheen and Murphy’s stout, and a man that is the very personification of the People’s Republic. G’wan Joe boy – you’re just what the doctor ordered.

FOCAL SCÓIR: Many thanks to Irish-Showbands.com for the groovy Joe Mac pic. Keep hucklebucking fellas!





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Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Cuisine de fRancid - Don't Eat the Deli Buns!

cácaí mhilse inne - ach cad atá ina measc?In Spar, no-one can hear you scream.

Every morning An Spailpín Fánach stops off at his local Centra for a cup of tea and a bun of some description. The tea-and-bun service is lucrative – and then some – for the Centra of course, but we live in a convenience-oriented age, and in the mornings it’s just too convenient for a sleepy-headed and ill-tempered Spailpín Fánach to resist the dead weight of sloth.

Until this morning, of course.

The buns in this local Centra are in a big, open shelf, as they are in nearly all convenience stores. Accessible to all. Including, it seems, the wounded.

As your faithful correspondent queued at the till with the cupán tae and the morning muffin, imagine my horror when I discovered a band-aid - used, bloody, slightly scrunched up – attached to the wrapping. It did little for the appetite.

But, you know, these bread displays are open to all comers, all day – why shouldn’t foreign bodies be in there? What’s to stop them? Some months ago, I beheld an urchin, six or seven years old or so, grab a sticky doughnut, consume half of it, and then restore the remainder to its original berth. I saw a young lady last year in a city-center Spar knock on of those bread rolls onto the floor with her bag, only to turn around, pick it off the floor and pop it back to its shelf.

Did alarms go off? No. Was she set upon by the horrified staff? No. Will the HSE appoint an advisor to advise on the situation? Sigh...

But who among us should really be surprised? We know that the highest hygiene standards should apply in these places, but who’s kidding whom? The people working in the convenience store deli are on minimum wage and maximum grief – they’re in no position to call a halt to the onward grind of commerce just because of one lousy band-aid, are they?

And well we know it. An Spailpín’s friend Ciarán Rua recounted an interesting story in this regard. Ciarán Rua and I were in Dingle-Dangle recently, listening to the locals not speaking Irish, and we were discussing the Centra phenomenon - Ciarán’s place of work is proximal to my own.

Ciarán told your horrified bilingual blogger that our Centra’s refuse arrangements are rather in the laissez-faire tradition, and some days all manner of wildlife can be seen roaming the bursting bags of rubbish. One of day, one of those critters went rambling, looking for fresh woods and pastures new. Instead of which, he found Ciarán Rua and his work colleagues, who were started to discover a great big rat sitting on one of their desks, blinking in the fluorescent light, having gained entrance through an open window.

“My goodness gracious,” said An Spailpín Fánach, conscious that the distaff side of the office would find this whiskery visitor very unwelcome indeed. “Whatever did you tell the girls?”

“We didn’t tell the girls,” responded that philosophical red-headed man. We poured black porter down throats that had been invigorated by the pure Atlantic breeze, and thought no more of the matter.







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Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Happy Birthday to the Mayo GAA Blog

These are strange times, my masters. The Cork crisis shows no sign of resolution, despite signs manifesting daily that there could, in fact, be a pair of them in it. Dónal Óg Cusack was talking to Miriam on Prime Time last week, talking like some 'seventies throwback apparatchik from some Glorious People’s Republic, explaining that the workers would never surrender. Dónal Óg Cusack isn’t old enough to remember those crazies, is he? How deeply distressing that he should be so fluent in their lingo.

In such distressful times, how very refreshing it is to focus on a man with a little more perspective than Comrade Cusack. The Mayo GAA Blog celebrated its first birthday last week, on St Bridget’s Day, and An Spailpín begs your indulgence to honour Willie Joe, the anonymous straw that stirs that particular drink.

Willie Joe himself reflected on his twelve months before the mast on Friday, and interesting reading it made too. I don’t know who this Willie Joe is (although I have noted, from the footage he likes to post, that he likes to stand in that same section of Páirc Mhic Éil favoured by An Spailpín Fánach and his little gang), but I have met the spirit before, in many places. I salute it, as it represents that to which An Spailpín aspires, but from which so often falls short.

Willie Joe is an idealist. Idealism is the rhyme and reason behind the Mayo GAA Blog. Willie is currently trying to post statistics on Mayo matches marching back to the time of the Tuatha De Danann - how fantastic, how worthwhile, how inpirational a venture is that? As well as his work as an archivist, Willie Joe likes to keep his finger on the pulse of this grand passion, this Mayo football team and their Grail Quest, and as such he makes it his business to post daily, religiously, such updates as he can track down. Every day there’s something fresh there, and it’s always reported with style and that certain panache that An Spailpín always associates with the county Mayo. There is a peculiarly Mayo way of looking at the world, a particular take of black humour that probably developed during the 19th century squeeze between the broad Atlantic at our backs and the advancing waves of blight before us. We learned to laugh in order to hold the bitter tears at bay.

And this is Willie Joe’s way. He tears his hair out as much as any over the team and its empty works and false promises, but he’s never mean about it. In a place like the County Mayo, where the good land has to be won from rock and bog and heather, it ill behoves thrupence to look down on tu’pence ha’penny.

The National League returned last weekend – Mayo lost, if you can believe it – but both Willie Joe and your own humble pensman are keeping their powder dry for the moment. The false dawn is no stranger to the Mayoman. But still Willie trawls the sites and mulls the possibilities, which is the only option open to those who are bitten by this bitter beauty, the team that is Nearly, and yet, Not Quite. So even though it’s only the league, there are still permutations to be sorted, tactics to discuss, places to fight for, prospects to savour. Willie is mulling Ronan at three, while An Spailpín remains faithful to what he saw in Monaghan two years ago. We don’t know how it will work out, but how deeply satisfying it is to wonder, and roll the prospects around in our heads for a while. Anticipation is always half the fun. Sometimes all the fun, when little accidents happen, as happened last year against Galway and Derry. Sigh.

Your faithful correspondent noted a couple of weeks ago that Willie is considering attending tonight’s meeting in the Garda Club, where the Mayo County Board are to give their benediction to a new venture where another supporters’ club is founded in the capital. An Spailpín is tempted to go, but the mention of a “Mayo fleece” brought back too many distressing memories. You don’t want to be putting notions in some bucks’ heads, you know. And the Cork boys think their county board is tricky. They ought to get out more.

But in the meantime – happy birthday Willie Joe, where-ever you are. See you some September evening when, on a blessèd day that is not far distant, all of us in Mayo shall see each other as we truly are. Champions.





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