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This week in Talking Balls we reflect on the departure from Stevie O’Neill from the inter-county scene - it’ll be a less interesting place without him. The master of impossible point from the narrow angle - total respect.

As the row in Cork rumbles on the players win the PR campaign hands down with a deft touch from which many businesses could take a lesson.

The Sunday Times blows the load of the paid manager issue - we truly believe this is a matter that needs to be brought into the open - these fellas are lifting twenty times the amounts talked about for inter-county players.

This weekend we move towards the National League as managers cull their panels, breaking a few hearts in the process. How will Geezer get on, will Cork be drivin’ round in the minibus trying to raise a team like many’s a club squad over the years. Will they call at Big Corkery’s house to try and cajole him away from the fry up and onto the bus. What about Corcoran, he could still kick a ball. I would say Larry Tompkins would still be game for a match too. We’ve all been there - cajoled back out one more time - hokin’ about the garage lookin’ for a lost boot and haulin’ out the shorts that will fit in yer wildest dreams.

Graham Geraghty sees red in the Junior Club semi final- there’s a surprise. And, as the ladies footballers look pretty in pink at the All Star exhibition game we reflect on those lost souls, the camogie All Stars that don’t get a trip anywhere.

For all you hardy souls there’s the national league this weekend. For everyone else, there’s always Talking Balls.

O’Neill County Minus O’Neill Equals…

You’ve all heard the one - what do you call a fly without wings? A walk. What do you call the O’Neill county without O’Neill. F***ed.

Yes, Red Hands fans were sick as parrots last Thursday evening when news began to filter through that Stevie O’Neill - the man who, along with Talking Balls favourite footballer Brian McGuigan - powered Tyrone to All Ireland success in 2005 - has decided to hang up his boots. Rumours have been circulating for a while indeed a Derry player told us he was giving it all up but we’d hoped that’s all they were.

Excuse the maritime metaphor here, but in terms on steering a successful ship, one of the ship’s captain’s jobs is to keep the entire crew on board. So just how did Tyrone come to shout ‘man overboard’ last week and what are the chances of hauling him back on board anytime soon?

Well going by the stories emerging the chances of the latter are slim enough. The rumour mongers would have you believe that O’Neill and Tyrone’s ultra successful manager Mickey Harte had a run in over training methods. According to the merchants of doom and gloom, O’Neill voiced concerns to Harte over the appropriateness of the sessions and was not given much of a hearing. ‘Au contraire’ says the manager. According to Mickey Harte he and O’Neill have never had a harsh word in a playing relationship going back over ten years. Tyrone watchers will recall that O’Neill and Brian McGuigan apparently were the two players that went to Harte to ask him to stay on after their Tyrone minor team lost the 1997 Final. This was the season that Paul McGirr was tragically killed in an on field accident. Harte duly agreed, they won the 1998 final and the rest is history.

Stevie O’Neill has fought the good fight for Tyrone over the years. Highlights? Too many of them. At minor he was a classy half forward - his first register on Talking Balls consciousness was when he came on as a sub for Paul McGirr in Omagh the day he suffered his fatal accident. In 2001 he was part of the team that won the Ulster Championship - the Final against Cavan sealed by a fisted goal from the late great Cormac McAnallen - and went on to lift an All Star. Tyrone bowed out of the Championship to a vengeful Derry team - already beaten in the competition by Tyrone - masterminded of course by the legendary Eamon Coleman, much to Eamon’s enjoyment. Boy, we gowled some abuse through the wire in Clones at Coleman that day.

Roll it forward to 2003 - Stevie was repeatedly encumbered with injuries but came off the bench to replace Canavan when PtG injured his ankle tussling for the ball and helped steer Tyrone home in a landmark victory over the Kingdom. In the final he was the key piece in the Canavan/McGuigan substitute conundrum when Mickey Harte managed to successfully perm three from two. Again Stevie steered over a couple of critical points when they were needed. This underlined a feature of his game easily overlooked - he always delivered the goods in Croke Park. In 2004 it was he that rocketed the ball into the Mayo net, to spark a revival that never happened. Earlier that year he balanced studies in London at Strawberry Hill teacher training college with trips home to play for Tyrone, in the process lifting a series of red cards - for many of us it made him even more popular.

2005 was his year. It will always be remembered for Tyrone’s ten match All Ireland campaign that featured three trademark penalties from the Clann na Gael man, each buried in an identical corner of the net and a regular repertoire of points many from outrageous angles - off his right and left side. When we asked, he showed how he practiced them, ten off each foot at five different spots on the pitch - every session. When Tyrone lifted Sam, wiped out were the memories of his errant sending of by Cork ref Michael Collins. The O’Neill county in every sense. All great memories.

Talking Balls abiding memory of Stevie O’Neill however is an earlier one. The footage of Tyrone’s defeat to Laois in the Minor All Ireland Final in 1997 clearly shows a distraught Stephen O’Neill at the end of the game - a young lad that enjoyed his sport, the pain of defeat heightened by the loss he and his teammates had endured that summer. It showed he cared. This summer if you find the time, take a trip to the pitch up at Aughabrack to see Clann na Gael playing and pay homage - you’re in O’Neill Country.

Let’s Be Frank, Murphy Won’t Be Going Anywhere

Dateline Cork: Teddy Holland has not yet resigned as Cork senior football manager. According to well placed reports in the Rebel County, the final sticking point in the ongoing Cork industrial action is the continuing occupation by Holland of the manager’s seat.

Sources suggest that the Cork Co Board is shit-scared that any move to remove Holland would result in legal action as he is the legitimate choice nominated and approved by a majority of clubs. This despite Sean Óg revealing in his ‘explosive’ Irish Times interview on Saturday that as many as six other people were considered for the job but declined after consulting players on the problems surrounding the selectorial fiasco.

For those who slept through the weekend, like the Office Wag, Sean Óg also called for the head of Frank Murphy. This is the same Frank that stuck up for the players during the Semplegate comedy. This is the same Frank that appears to be a Cork man by birth but is a member of the County Board by his own Grace. The same Frank that went on the team holiday with the players a week or two ago. Reports of the weekend’s ‘negotiations’ reveal a nice cameo. Apparently when food was brought in for the warring parties, the Blazers headed out first, as they would, but were reminded by Frank to leave some food for the players. The fact he had to issue this reminder is telling.

Sean Óg revealed that during the year the player’s staple diet of boiled chicken, fruit and pasta was replaced by a pile of sandwiches. What greater love can a man have for his county than to eat boiled chicken - now that is above and beyond the call of duty, especially if all that celebrity Cockney grill boy Jamie Oliver says is true. But they say it’s better for you than sandwiches.

The media savvy team here in the Talking Balls office were mightily impressed with the PR skills of the Cork players. In classic campaign style they targeted the key media, each player stepping forward on message on cue, over the course of a few days - culminating in GAA poster boy Sean Óg driving the boot, knee and butt of the hurley into Frank Murphy on Saturday in his Irish Times piece. Of course Murphy isn’t going to resign but by making exorbitant demands it gives the players wriggle and negotiating room and a position to step back from. That position of least retreat appears to be the ousting of football manager Teddy Holland. The one man that wasn’t put forward to talk was Donal Óg Cusack. It would appear his appearance on the media horizon would be equivalent to a red rag to a bull. Indeed Sean Óg specifically defended his comrade in arms such is his guilt by association.

The system proposed by the Cork County Board is a puzzle to Gaels the length and breadth of the country - especially anyone involved in team management. You want your own people with you and that’s that. Under the new system it is unlikely that John Allen would have been handed the Bainisteoir’s bib when Donal O’Grady stepped down. The ironic part of this is that Cork have had a modicum of success in recent years, driven by the players themselves in spite of the County Board.

Meanwhile, Croke Park appear to have paid out the slack by apparently postponing this weekend’s NFL game against Meath. But, despite the best efforts of negotiator Kieran Mulvey, the impasse continues, Nicky Brennan remarking:

“As far as I was concerned, the Association was facing a situation where one of our major counties had a problem and they didn’t appear to be solving it. Somebody had to be brought in to solve it… somebody was needed to pull the parties together. It didn’t matter who that person was. We went for the best facilitator and he was willing to do it this weekend when, I’m sure, he could have been doing other things.”

Spending a weekend in Cork with bolshie Cork people - sure who wouldn’t jump at the chance?

Shock: Geraghty Sent off in Club Junior Semi

As Tyrone club the Rock made it through to a Croke Park showdown yesterday, there was surprise in GAA circles with news that Clann na Gael midfielder, Meath star and former Fine Gael Election candidate Graham Geraghty received a straight red card towards the end of the game.

Geraghty had been singled out in most observers’ minds as the Clann na Gael player most likely to cause problems for a Rock team managed by Derry’s Minor All Ireland Final manager Niall Conway. Rock were two points adrift heading towards the end of normal time. They somehow pegged it back and managed to pull away in extra time to seal their appearance on Croker and attempt to return the trophy won last year by Greencastle to Red Hand Land.

Geraghty apparently saw red for what was euphemistically termed an ‘off the ball incident.’ Talking Balls has learned in the wake of the game that Irish film-makers are considering a biopic of the blonde bombsite tentatively called ‘There’s Something About Graham: My Left Fist.’ With enough controversy and more ups and downs than Ron Jeremy it would be compulsive watching.

What is it about Meath men and Tyrone?

O’Hanlon’s Pair Point the Way for 06 Ladies

The 2006 Ladies football team triumphed over their 2007 counterparts in a keenly contested ONeills/TG4 Ladies GAA All Stars match in Dubai. Quite what the local sheikhs made of it isn’t clear - usually they’re more interested in that other sport of the two humps - camel racing.

Played at the only country in the Gulf or middle east that would accommodate burka-less women’s sport the game ended up a sporting 3-15 to 2-13 to the 2006 team. As the Hoganstand site reports, ‘O’Hanlon’s brace duly did the trick.’ Oh Yes.

Talking Balls has been thinking about this and we were wondering just how many people in the Gulf watched this ‘exhibition’ match played at the Dubai Polo and Equestrian Club.

We were also wondering how the camogie all stars feel, sitting at home on their attractive derrieres wondering why every other set of All Stars jetsets round the globe and they get to sit at home enjoying the chill of January. Certainly the likes of Mags Darcy and Eimear Brannigan et al would be worth a few camels to an eagle eyed sheikh out in the Gulf. They dunno what they’re missing.

So Liz, now you have the Camog finals back in Croker, what about a proper set of All Stars?

Rule 11 - Load of Balls

The Sunday Times yesterday lifted the lid on the widespread practice of payment to GAA managers the length and breadth of the country. About time.

Talking Balls has been harping on for weeks about the hypocrisy of people making money out of the GAA. As we have repeated ad nauseum, it is all very well to point the finger at players for lifting a few euro in the form of grants whilst at the same time studiously ignoring the widespread practice of managers lifting hundreds of euro for a week’s coaching. The problem is at its most severe in Derry and Tyrone where club managers are reputedly lifting £100 to £125 a session.

In other counties the problem is less pronounced but the means and mechanisms are all the same. ‘Fill yer car up there Mick every week, and throw in yer expenses too - no-one will know a hate about it. Oh and the car, take that new Passat there with ye and say nothing. Ye need a bit of labour on the house extension. Well, we’ll take a look when we’re round handing over the brown envelope…’.

On the latest tedious to-ing and fro-ing, does it really matter whether the DRA said an agreement was reached in December or not? Well let’s be brutally honest folks, with ourselves. Did congress ever vote on the legality of paying managers? No they didn’t. Still happens. On the subject of under the table payments Peter Quinn famously said they couldn’t even find the table.

In this case Talking Balls is increasingly of the opinion that the player’s mistake was to try and sort out the grants issue via official channels. They would probably have had more success if they had just tore on ahead and sorted something out by the back door - same as ever other person seems to do it.

Anyway, Talking Balls is sick of the finger-pointing-points-scoring bollix we’ve watched unfold. So we’re away to a coaching session, which we don’t get paid for, in our GAA, which is exactly the same as it always was, which actually costs us money when we think about it. Some of the players are club men and some are county men. Whether they get paid or not makes no odds to us or them, nor does it affect the way they train. In fact, for some of our club’s student players, we’ve been guilty of pay for play ourselves - a few quid here for a train fare or there to pay off a debt or two, or a lift here, or a few beers there. Rule 11? Load of Balls.

Burnout Proposals Burnt Out

Hard to stop grinning at the spectacular failure of GAA congress on Saturday to push through the proposals in relation to Minor and U-21 grades. Not because we disagree with the burnout findings but because we think the solutions were half baked.

Say you’re from the likes of Laois - how many senior titles have you won in recent years. Not many. How many minor or U-21 titles - a few. Are you going to vote for the removal of two age grades where you actually have a chance of winning something. No way Jose.

Next piece of comedy. The two month closed season - let’s see how that works out. I see in Dublin last Friday night that the League Division 1 Final was played. I assume that was last year’s competition. In Tyrone, the league finals at Junior grade were played in the mouth of Christmas. For both counties they exited the Championship in August. If you were from a county that were knocked out of the Championship in June or July, potentially you could be facing into a six month break. Why November and December? Why not October and November - sure the Championships are done and dusted in September. This all seems very arbitrary.

Next up,the weekend training camps. It will be interesting to observe the verbal gymnastics to explain away why a particular team were away together for a weekend.

‘The lads all got a holiday voucher for the Slieve Russell and they decided to go there. Just happened it was the same weekend.’

‘There was a special deal on in the City West and the boys invited me down for a game of golf. A few other lads were about anyway, they were just passing through and another fella was on honeymoon. Just coincidence you see.’

‘Well La Manga’s a very popular holiday resort these days and with the cheap flights ye can get I’m not surprised a few availed of the offers.’

What makes this all the more risible is that there is no punishment for transgressors so basically lads the rules is there but do what ye please. Bit like many of the other rules. Why Croke Park wishes to tell players when they can and can’t train is beyond us. It smacks of big government like them loopers complain about in America. Next thing you know the armed wing of the GPA will declare war on Croker and maybe blow part of it up. Stranger things have happened.

The Dodgy Manager - Sleeping with the Fishes

This week resident expert Ger Manas casts an eye sideways at rugby and while he can understand why Eddie O’Sullivan says he made a balls of things he can’t imagine too many GAA men get away with it.

I was reading there in the papers over the weekend yer man Eddie O’Sullivan talkin’ balls about the rugby world cup and how shite Ireland were. Sez he ‘I made a total balls of it.’ Well now fair f***s to him for bein’ so honest but it’s a wee bit late for bein’ that honest. In fact, since he hadn’t the balls to own up at the time and admit how shite he thought they might get on he really needs a good boot in the hole is what he needs. He as good as admitted there yesterday that he knew there was something wrong during’ the competition - the players weren’t rugby ready was how he put it. Imagine now at work if some boy in a football or hurling club cocked something up and turned round and said ‘I made a real balls of it?’ Sure he’d be out on his hole. How it is then that a fella that’s a professional manager can be such a bollix?

It comes out then that they have no psychologist and no manager and no defence coach. What struck me about was that when I was up with Armagh Big Joe had all them things taken care of. He had more specialist boys there than ye knew what to do with. There was a French fella that was an expert at making poached eggs with no yolk in them. That was all this boy did as far as I could see. There was another good lookin’ yoke that made sure the players looked good. Wee bit of hairspray here, bit of gel there. Some boys maybe told to play with the shirts tucked out - others with theirs in. She was able to tell boys how to intimidate other players by the way they stood beside then with their crotches pushed out as if to say ‘I’m the biggest swinging dick round here.’ That’s all she did, that and flash her bosoms now and then at some of the younger boys to get them revved up.

That’s why I couldn’t understand the Irish Rugby team. As well as that O’Sullivan hung around with yer man Clive Woodward. He had asked me over at one stage working with the back line on defensive kicking but the grandfather would have turned in the grave at the thought of it. The one thing Woodward was good at was bringing in men to do the things he couldn’t. If he needed something done he got the man in that could do the job. Funny how this never rubbed off on O’Sullivan. It did on Big Joe, they regarded England as one of their role models and it helped them lift her to the next level.

It was yer man admitting he made a balls of it that got me. I can just see the headline if yer man big Peeler Caffrey came out and said ‘aye I ballsed it up but sure all the gabshites on the Hill will understand, we’ll get it right the next time.’ Would they f***, they’d queue the lengthy of O’Connell Street to kick him in the hole. Can ye imagine Mickey Harte saying he balls’d something up. Well firstly Mickey wouldn’t say that - he would say he ‘was in a place he didn’t like to be’ or some mumbo jumbo like that but jaze them loopers up in Tyrone would rip him to pieces. Ye can see Paddy Crozier to Seamus McCloy - I made a balls up. Me hole. And that’s not to mention what would happen to some of them highly paid club managers we’re hearing all about, these fellas liftin’ twenty and thirty grand a year to manage some two bit tumbleweed shower of ballixes that’d win nothin if the entire Kerry team parachuted in to help. ‘I made a balls of it’ would quickly translate into a drop into a flooded quarry from the money man’s helicopter with a couple of bags of concrete wound round the feet for company. Bring that one to the DRA.

That’s the difference with rugby - it’s that bit more civilized. They can slag the bejasus out of each other in the politest way - the only exceptions bein’ some of them ex players. Brian Moore the English fella is a hateful c*** if I ever saw one and I use that word very carefully. I remember an English boy beside me looking scared one time up at Lansdowne when I shouted ‘stamp on the hateful b*****’ one time Ireland was playing England and Moore was lyin’ on the deck, jaze I near went down and dropped the size twelve mesel’. The boy in the blazer tould me ‘that isn’t very sporting old chap…’ I toul him he’d get f***in levered if he ever even looked at me again, but that was the sort of effect that boy Moore had on me. Before me mother died she was lyin’ up in bed, she always liked that fella Jack Kyle playin rugby and that, and yer man Moore was on spouting something about Ireland and he made her upset too. He was as offensive a hoor as I saw but still even though I can’t stand him I have te say them rugby boys is more civilized. I see their referee Alain Rolland was meeting some of our refs to discuss how they deals with things. Well if they could sort out people not slabberin’ at the ref that would be a good start.

This weekend the big action starts in earnest with the league. Should be a good oul weekend with a bit of the oul rugby and then a few matches on the Saturday night and then Sunday. I’ve that Setanta and it’s the greatest job yet for watching matches. There’ll be something on nearly every Saturday night now between the hurling and football and it repeated during the week. Then the TG4 boys are on Sunday afternoons. Jaze it’ll be great. There’s no real second chances this year although I think havin’ no semi finals might just turn some of the games into non events if there’s nothin’ to play for. I was expectin’ things from Derry and then I watched them on Saturday night get cleaned out by Down. There’s work to be done there yet for Paddy. I’m lookin’ forward to see how the Kerrymen get on and Tyrone without O’Neill. That’s one of the saddest bits of news I heard now this long while that he’s give it up, tho’ if I was the club manager I’d be leppin’ about.

I’ll be up that road one of these days now and I’ll maybe call into see Stevie up thonder in Gortin school. And if he’s readin’ this, I’ll tell ye, look out it’ll be a boot in the hole ye’ll be gettin’ from me!

This week we move a step closer to the National League when the shadow boxing starts. That great hurler TS Eliot described the shadow as the place between the idea and reality and in a fortnight’s time managers like McGeeney will see how much reality breaks in on their big ideas.Speaking of big ideas we commend the Ulster Council for kicking foul language out of the GAA - well trying to at least. Like western democracy it all sounds like a good idea…

We take a look at the men behind the Malcontents and see if you recognize anyone out there? We can but we’re saying nothing. The Cork strike rumbles on to the increasing silence of people round the country asking who cares?

We consider the strange case of firebrand Unionist Edwin Poots and find that by the standards of fellow religionists and some party colleagues he maybe isn’t a bad fella. We still don’t know what he made of the match he went to though.

Other than that - things is quiet. Squareball headquarters is flat to the mat preparing a new range for Spring and what a treat that looks to be from previews we have seen.

Ger Manas considers the foibles of the early season trainer including his or her wardrobe. Are those wheelnuts or are you just pleased to see me?

If you’re stylish, you must be wearing Squareball; if not go sort your self. But for everyone, there’s always Talking Balls.

No Foul Language Initiative - What a F***in Great Idea

The Ulster Council are to be roundly commended for their NFL - No Foul Language initiative which they introduced for the Dr McKenna Cup.

It is all part of a promotional programme to make the games a more attractive proposition to families and generally enhance the appeal of the GAA. In an unrelated but equally interesting development top rugby whistler and former Leinster player Alain Rolland is this week meeting GAA referees to share best practice from rugby. One area in which rugby excels is in the respect given to referees, the lack of slabberin’ at him and calling him a w***er and the like.

Where the Ulster council hope to score as well is in influencing the behaviour of punters outside the wire - you know the sort who can abuse the referee equally effectively whether using foul language or not. Maybe that may be a bit ambitious but certainly there are lessons to be learned from rugby.

When told about the initiative, the office WAG declared, ‘There’s not much you can do about it if the ref’s a total b*****d. Some of the pr**ks they put in charge of games can be right c**ts. Anyway, it doesn’t apply to the likes of me.’

Ears not Poot to use in Pairc Esler

So the man with the biggest ears in the North’s Executive attended a GAA match last week but decided not to Poot them to any good use by arriving in time for Amhran na Fhiann? It was great to see him there but talk about shaking yer hand and kickin’ yer hole at the same time.

DUP Minister Edwin Poots attended the McKenna Cup match between Down and Donegal, taking time off from internal party shenanigans over who would succeed Big Ian and whether or not Baby Doc had abused his position in lobbying British Ministers over constituency issues during the St Andrews negotiations. A highly moral and righteous group these lads are indeed.

Explaining that unlike generations of Dublin supporters he hadn’t missed the start of the game because he was sinking those last five or six pints of stout, Mr Poots clarified for us:

“While I recognise that the GAA has made strong efforts to improve that situation, with the likes of the English rugby team and other sports playing in places like Croke Park, there is still a challenge for the GAA to prove to the Protestant community that things have changed. I attended the game in my role as sports minister but, as a Unionist, I would not feel comfortable standing for The Soldiers Song. I previously attended a GAA conference last October, during which I pointed out to the organisation that there was a substantial section of the protestant community who would still not feel comfortable attending a GAA game because of the political overtones associated with it.”

An Uachtarain Nickey Brennan was predictably positive about the whole affair:

“This is a landmark occasion… when a unionist minister is prepared to attend one of our games.It highlighted the good standing of the Ulster Council GAA, who I know have developed an exceptionally positive relationship with Mr Poots. I look forward to him taking up my invitation to attend Croke Park for an event in the near future.”

So there you have it, despite the playing of the ‘Queen’ in Croker and all that went with it, what is really going on between those two big ears of his? Still attendance at a game in Croker, and a disregard for the protocol of the day observed by all visiting dignitaries would be highly offensive.

Talking Balls was about to condemn Edwin for his actions but then we found this piece on the Burning Bush website. This we might add is not a website devoted to the discomfort caused by thrush or genital warts, but a fundamentalist site run by the Rev Ivan Foster of the Free Presbyterian Church, clearly a man of liberal disposition. The background - our Edwin had dared to recommend the music of Snow Patrol and Ash and plans for a music centre in Belfast called Oh Yeah. Sayeth the Rev Ivan:

“Just what is the character of those ‘musicians’ and their ‘music’ with which Mr. Poots was ‘very impressed’ and for whom he is anxious to provide funding…immoral titles, themes and lyrics [are] employed by these ‘musicians’. That anyone calling themselves a Christian should commend them and so influence the young to listen to such filth, is reprehensible in itself. But when that person is an office-bearer in the Free Presbyterian Church one has to wonder what view of his behaviour his minister and session hold and whether they will stand up for the Word of God and what it has to say on the issue. That Mr. Poots is going to try and obtain funding for such an abomination and blasphemous enterprise sets out afresh how far from the standards of God those who have sold themselves to obtain the ‘glory’ of public office have gone. Murderers in government, funding for sodomy, the pursuit of lottery funds and now the promotion of blasphemous and filthy ‘music’ in which the name of the Lord Jesus is desecrated and intermingled with obscenities.

On further examination and just in case anyone this was a one off outburst, the Rev Foster has this to say about the GAA in the past:

“The GAA hates all things British and soccer is deemed a British game…. the incident demonstrates the inflexible, unbending attitude of this Roman Catholic organisation. With this attitude Protestants have had to contend for centuries. Rome can be accommodated only by the complete capitulation of her opponents. Here in Ulster, literally, that means the surrender of all civil and religious rights.”

Talking Balls reckons that’s precisely the sort of gobshite we want to see at Championship matches, on the Hill at Clones, in the Ard Comhairle in Croker and in our committee rooms. Maybe Edwin isn’t such a bad lad after all but really, the Reverend Foster is the man we want…

Tyrone Throwbacks

Tyrone dual club Fintona Pearses is indeed a throw back to the good old days alluded to by the Rev Foster.

The problem with its dual players is that they are soccer and gaelic football and club has apparently taken a stand by banning players from playing the foreign game.

Club secretary Dessie Campbell has denied this: “No, we have not (taken a vote). They must be misreading the situation. I don’t really want to discuss the situation but we are not banning soccer players.”

Talking Balls thinks he doth protest too much. So Dessie, are they banned or not?

Things Can’t Only Get Better

The hurlers of Antrim headed back up the road in great glee yesterday no doubt, after beating a Kilkenny side featuring six of the All Ireland winning team.

The Antrim side also had an experimental touch about it - the forward line included five under 21 players and Liam Watson who hit 1-8 (there is an interesting form line here for Derry if they choose to look at it that way - their U-21s defeated Antrim in the Ulster Final last year).

So things looking good then for Antrim and Ulster hurling? Well Talking Balls finds it hard to get too enthusiastic and the rest of the hurling fraternity won’t exactly be sitting up taking notice or indeed quaking in their boots. Beating Kilkenny any day is a good result for Antrim and after their rudderless and largely full-forwardless capitulation in Ballycastle last year there is no doubt there is some encouragement in this result. Come the League in which the Saffrons play two home games and have to travel to the likes of Kilkenny and Waterford it looks more ominous after which they tilt at windmills and Galway before exiting the championship to a Munster loser.

No doubt Sambo and Woody are doing their best - the weekend papers had a revealing story about the management duo returning to the team bus ‘ready to fight’ after they confiscated a carry out from two players and f***ed it over the ditch. Match preparation that is Antrim hurling style - visualizing yourself on the piss after the game! They continue to rail at the iniquity of playing Galway ad infinitum and then a Munster loser. Surely that smacks of defeatism, whether they have been handed a crap draw by the Hurling non-Development Committee or not. Sambo complained bitterly about the costs of traveling to matches and claims the good Dr McSparran claimed they had no more dosh - surely that is the job of Club Antrim unless it is all allocated to Jody Gormley.

So elsewhere in Ulster how’s things? Well trumpeting was done about this year’s Ulster championship and its cascade draw which means all Ulster counties will participate - the only province to feature all of its hurling teams.

Across the Bann in Derry things aren’t so good. Last Friday night representatives of the county’s dual clubs got together in Walsh’s Hotel in Maghera to seek ways to have the case for hurling made to a Country Board that - to the hurlers - isn’t interested and isn’t prepared to listen. The hurling committee that met in previous years to look after underage hurling - but in the process provided a forum for discussion about all matters stick and ball - it has been booted into touch.

The hurling fraternity feel the county is unconcerned about hurling and in many corners esp round the lough shore would relish its demise. Brian McGilligan is supposedly the new senior county manager aided and abetted by Sean Roe McCloskey - last year’s U-21 management team. A number of their potential ‘star’ players have been filched by the football management of Paddy Crozier who has been heard to say there will be no dual players this season. Other hurlers are not pushed on playing for Derry because of apathy and the legacy of recent years. According to stories doing the rounds, if Woody and Sambo were on the Derry bus they would have needed a wheelbarrow to get the carryouts to the ditch. Talking Balls reckons McGilligan will be a different story - he tends to say it like it is and is quoted as saying he asked the County Chairman Seamus McCloy was he lost when he ran into him at a hurling match - but will he get an opportunity to show the players that can hurl that Derry are serious about hurling? The county has six senior clubs and hurling meetings have heard the mantra that the Derry league is the best in Ulster. Yet there is no appetite to go and play in the Ulster Hurling league due to a pig headedness about fixture dates and a fixation with the Derry championship and no real prospect of closing the gap on Antrim clubs or county come championship time. So then what for the summer?

Not a lot of change we thinks but we’ll see…

C-Day Approaches

Still not sign of a resolution in sight for the Cork senior footballers and hurlers as the countdown begins towards the start of the national football league on 2 February.

The Cork players have revealed that they offered not to strike if the County Board delayed revisiting the selectorial impasse until September 2008. It has also emerged that their original plan was to announce lightening strikes immediately before the NHL and NFL matches - action that would have offered Frank Murphy and Co little room for discussion. Regular readers will note that Talking Balls has advocated lightening strikes during games but maybe we are too radical for our own good. The players apparently feel they have shifted as far as they can and can go no further.

The Cork Co Board in turn stated they did not wish to get into a debate with the players via the media before giving a long exposition of the issues as they see it no less. They also have issued a resounding clarion call in support of Democracy.

“The issue has been before the board twice and has been debated. We feel the only way we can agree to any compromise is if democracy and the freedom for people to vote as they wish are both central to that compromise.”

“Having said that, we will work with any form of words which will accommodate that and bring resolution to the situation.

Meanwhile ye should know next week whether the Rebels plan to field a team against Meath in the opening round of the League. Talking Balls waits with unbated breath.

Since Croke Park has said: “Croke Park doesn’t want to go and tell Cork what to do,” Talking Balls has identified a form of words that might do the job.

“Wise up the both of ye and get it sorted, we’re getting bored with it.”

Intrigue, Scheming, Duplicitousness, Now Murder Wrote the Malcontent

Speaking of boredom, in the week that Mark Conway hurled the ‘malcontent’ word back at Dessi Farrell, we ask is this spat taking on the appearance of Jacobean Tragedy from whence the term Malcontent arose?

As you will no doubt recall, Greek tragedies had no humour in them - tragedy was felt to be too serious a matter to dilute however by the time the concept of tragedy had evolved into the 1600s a formula was in place involving the tragic hero, the Malcontent figure, and a fairly standard plot line. Politics, intrigue, dodgy characters, money and reputation all featured in the entertaining plotlines of the day. Any women that were involved were of easy virtue, ripe for the taking and or of virginal standing frequently deflowered with the aplomb of Eddie Brennan banging home another goal.

What then of the Malcontent? Usually he is at odds and unhappy with the established social structure - often an outsider, or made one by their actions they become an outsider offering reaction and commentary on the goings on in the play. Occasionally they even did the deflowering. Their role is a dramatic device wrought with political savvy, they voice their discontent through asides and by poking fun and taking issue with others points of views. Does this sound familiar?

Sometimes they attract sympathy and other times they do not - people agree with them and disagree with them depending on their role play. Above all the Malcontent is unhappy, unsettled, angry or annoyed with the world as he sees it and he is eager to change it or dispute with it. Permanently pissed off in fact. He comments on the events of the day as if he is beyond them - often the commentary may be obscure and suited to his own purpose. Famous Malcontent figures then would include Iago from Othello, Bosola in the Duchess of Malfi, Malevole in Webster’s Malcontent and most famously the eponymous hero from Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Some of the greatest creations in literature and certainly some of the most interesting characters were malcontents - it certainly isn’t a term of abuse if the name callers know what they are talking about.

To pay or not play then, is that the question? Or is it not. Well there has been no blood letting or deflowering of virtuous young women for that matter - well not that we know of. We still haven’t established when the clubs that pay their managers will emerge and own up to it, or the players that have been paid for years under the table.

What then of rumours of a certain Derry All Ireland winner getting around £18,000 to manage a Tyrone club on the Loughshore or a Championship winning manager, also in Ulster moving from his own club to another in the same county for a reputed £19,000. Or another driving an hour and a half there and the same back for £17,000 plus a car, or a well known former assistant county manager that charges £80 a session for any club needing a few negative thoughts thrown into a skip.

If you thought Mal Content was the name of a paid up GAA member near you, you mightn’t be too far wrong but it’s more than that. Oh yes there’s something goin’ on here. As Iago said in Othello:

“O, beware, my lord of jealousy;
It is the green-ey’d monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on.”

Skin Tight and Tasty

It’s that time of year again and Resident expert Ger Manas is back on the beat running the legs of players somewhere in a bid to get them fit. Y’see he thinks that players and the way the dress are a microcosm of life, of course he wouldn’t put it like that…

Many’s the team I’ve trained over the years and you always attracted all sorts of players at this stage of the season. They’ll all be familiar to ye, so there’s no point goin’ over them all in detail, the returning hero, the current county man, the former county man, the useless hoor that turns up every pre-season for a few sessions and then disappears until next year, the useless hoor that turns up and stays, the eager underage star, the refugee from the wife, the guy looking to lose his gut, the homasexual who likes training with other boys - and yes there’s been a few of them over the years, particularly in the ladies games. There’s the solid club player, the soccer or rugby man who admires us boys from afar, the not so solid club man who thinks he’s too good, the pretty boys, the prima donnas, the comedians, arseholes, genuine good lads. The ‘I’m gonna stay in there with the manager’ fella that’s foolin no-one. There all there and this time of year when you see players out sloggin through the muck and clabber you can identity every one of the hoors. Some boys stop and walk as they trudge along, other fellas be going snails pace but by jaze they keep goin’ and others fly at it and are a pleasure to behold.

We’ve been havin’ an oul debate, me and the other fellas bout the best way to train people. Every year, we do the same thing. Run the legs of them for six or eight weeks until they’re sick sore and tired of it, but we always warm it up and slow it down with a ball. We do a bit of oul circuits that haven’t changed that much and now we’ve a lad from rowin’ that helps out with that and he’s some job - our fellas be great on a f***in water logged pitch I tell him. Doesn’t matter whether its women footballers, camogs, hurlers, footballers - they all need that ‘shock and awe’ as the yanks called it when they bombed Iraq back to the stone age - the coul January wind gowling round yer togs. Next thing some f***er hits ye on the thighs full pelt with the ball and ye can read O’Neills below yer arse for a week or the sliotar drops from about fifty feet up into yer hand at a rate of knots and it twice the weight and freezing…

Warming up, jaze it’s inhuman at times I think but the players f***in love it. I see a lot of them now run about in them CCC tops that’s skintight - jaze the nipples quare and stick out through them on a coul day and that’s only the fellas I’m talking about - ye daren’t look near the girls or ye’d get sued - that or get the eye put out of yer head. Boys are running about too in these jobs that look like tights and ye could near count the hairs. I swear I thought a fella the other day was his wee brother so high was his voice. His arse was like two f***in peaches and he only found out afterwards he’d put the wee sisters leggings on - not his own. I think the oul balls were brave and cosied up after a while in that get up.

Could ye imagine Mick Lyons, or Brian Mullins or the Bomber Liston in tights. Jaze the bomber would be like the f***in jolly green giant with a cabbage down in his belongins! The things boys get away with these days. Fellas then wear woolie hats too - why they do I don’t know. I think they see boys on telly wear them and think it looks good and then they fling them off after one lap. I suppose it’s called fashion and that’s what this lark is all about but jaze it makes me laugh.

Ye tend to find that the get-up players appear shows the sort of hoor they are. The good lad or lassie will turn up well kitted out in something practical, no nonsense that doesn’t look like there’s much though went into how it looks but more how it works in keeping ye warm and dry and that’s how it should be. But then there’s the ball bags with the sleeves torn off the shirt in a particular way, or with some obscure shirt like the Phnom Phen Nemos or the Tehran Mitchells or whatever. There’s the pretty boys that look great and wear gear that’s split new - they always have to but it new for the three or four sessions they go to each year. With the women there’s always the ones in the soccer jerseys - they’d get a boot in the hole from me without too much bother.

I find and the other lads agree that ye can nearly tell at the beginning of a session with a new team who the bollixes are and who they aren’t. Used to be you had one of the O’Neill shirts that could soak up three times its weight in rain or before that the rugby jersey type jobs with the buttons on the collar. They were even more absorbent and were a disaster in the summer. I remember playing soccer in London for a pub team one time and the nylon shirts they produced chafed the nipples something schocking. The shorts too rubbed the insides of the thighs so much that one day I was rubbing me chest and the inside of me legs with Vaseline when I got caught on by the tea lady and I think she thought there was something going on with me there lubin’ mesel up. I had to explain but she was from the West Indies or somewhere foreign and she was backin’ off somethin’ shockin when I tried to show her what I was talkin’ about - eventually she ran off. But sure shit happens. Nowadays at least the gear doesn’t do that.

My biggest gripe these days is that for all the gear these clubs get from the likes of O’Neills and them other fellas, none of its really worth a shite in a real bad weather. Those O’Neills rain jackets are like a teabag. I’ve found mesel buyin mountaineering gear and fleeces to keep dry and warm - nowadays the stuff’s great - ye can sweat like a pigs welt and it ‘wicks’ the stuff away so I’m toul. God knows what yer man Hillary could have done up Everest is he had what we have now.

Right enuff have to say some of our players would be better off up a mountain cos they’re shite at football but sure that’s life too.

For all you bargain hunters out there remember the Squareball sale is on - pick up some of our limited edition gear before it goes out of stock - you know it’ll never be out of fashion.

This week it’s a quiet enough one. Tyrone are out of the McKenna Cup thanks be to God. We’re fed up listening to how important it is - it’s not. Beside it’s about time Derry won something.

We cast an envious eye at those engaged in pre-season training. Can you stick it? Yes you can - but are you really wasting your time training for something more akin to cross country wrestling than football?

The Cork row rumbles on - Take That survived without Robbie, Pink Floyd without Syd Barrett, the Who without Keith Moon. Even Led Zeppelin came back with John Bonham but could the GAA survive without the Rebels and is it true they might get booted out by the PTB??

Ger Manas survives a bout of the flu and a few days at home with the wife but he’s more concerned about all these people talking shite and what it means for our games. That and drugs in sport - what’s the world coming to?

If you’ve got a virus, you know you can’t treat it. For everyone else, there’s always Talking Balls.

Pre-season - It’s Gas Craic Altogether

It’s that time of the year again when coaches step out in their waterproofs, thermals and big dry boots to put their sorry-assed charges though their paces. And it’s a gas!

The league season may be twelve weeks hence for the majority of clubs the length and breadth of Ireland but those twelve weeks are a gaping window of opportunity. A gatherup of veterans, fresh faced senior football virgins, returning heroes, discarded county men, and inept bucket footers will gather with a mixture of enthusiasm and apprehension in a dank club house. Some won’t even bother their hole turning up, savouring a few extra weeks on the piss, knowing they’ll get the call when a few of the newcomers wilt under the pressure of mind numbing fitness work in the ball freezing cold.

Club managers the length and breadth of the country are enlisting the help of former French Foreign Legionnaires, boxing coaches, cyclists, tai chi and yoga experts, rugby league manuals and aussies rules websites. All to give their players that edge whatever that is. Leaving aside the notion that coaches and managers are doing all this for the love of the game and not because Stevie Smallbuck the local developer has greased their palm big style, is this all necessary?

The early season dressing room is the stuff of legend. The new manager bestriding the dressing-room like a colossus amidst the rank smell of beer, BO and bad feet. ‘Ye can f***in’ forget about last season, as far as I’m concerned this is year Zero, a line in the sand. We’ve crossed the Rubicon. What went before wasn’t good enough because ye won f*** all…’ as boys squirm on their seats, the oul hands drift off thinking, ‘how many times have I heard this shite before.’

Next things to man they are on the pitch clabbered to their knees running this way and that in a bewildering array of running drills. One player dryly observing that he only gets the ball in his hands for a total twenty seconds in a game according to some programme he’d seen so why did he have to run about like a bollix for an hour and a half. The answer? It’s called character my son and as it stands? You don’t have any!

Monaghan trainer, the highly regarded Martin McElkennon questions some of the approaches being used. Sez he: “Are we concerned about developing a footballer, or developing a machine that’s super fit and can run all day but do little else? Why ask a corner forward who makes 20 metre runs across the field and 30 metre runs out the field in a match to do long distance running in training? You wouldn’t ask a boxer to put on a pair of skis or play basketball as part of his training so why do we still persist with this nonsense that still goes on where teams run around a racecourse or something ridiculous like that?”

Well Martin obviously thinks he knows what he’s talking about. Others have different views - Talking Balls has had a look through the Underdogs training routine manual that someone kindly gave us a while back. Developed as it was by some dude down in DCU with the specific needs of the GAA player in mind. Whilst accepting the need for short runs akin to match day scenarios the manual also advocates carefully explained thirty minute runs for stamina purposes. Those and a suite of cunningly cruel and thigh sapping and lung bursting routines that appear innocent but are lethal.

Reminds us of a story we were told during the summer of a local rugby player returning from England to play for Norn Irn’s finest with Ulllllsterrrr - the training we were told was more sophisticated than what he had encountered in England. Part of Ulster’s programme consisted of dragging a tractor tyre about - useful skill that in a game. Likewise, one of Talking Balls associates was thinking of starting a ladies football team in his club. Discussing the matter with a few of the local girls, some of whom were of the other persuasion, he was told that one particular New Zealand ‘lesbian’ could swim miles in the sea, was great at mountain climbing and cross country cycling to which our man responded, ‘If we ever play a match where we need to swim, climb and cycle, I’ll give her a shout.’

McNamara Points the Finger at Fitz

Now that Davy Fitz’s finger has been reattached or whatever they did to it, Mike McNamara looks like recalling him to the Clare hurling panel. As you will know, after a year sitting about on his hole, doing a bit of coaching here and there and preparing for the Poc Fada, Davy hit disaster when playing for his club Sixmilebrige in the Clare Championship - a freak injury led to part of his finger needing to be reattached.

Said McNamara last week: “David and myself have spoken and hopefully, in a week or two, the medical advice for David will be that he can attempt a return.”

Fitzy himself has revealed that his doctors aren’t so keen on him returning by the fast track approach: “I’m going back, hopefully at the end of this month, even though the doctors think that I am mad to do so. But I have to try and at least I will be happy myself that way. If it works, it works and if it doesn’t it doesn’t.”

This is the stuff of legends - Talking Balls can hear the teamtalk -‘What are you prepared to do to win this game? Look at this man here, he had his finger chopped off and still played on.”

Talking Balls wishes Davy Fitz all the best and we hope to see him back in action in one piece very soon.

Tyrone Fail in the Their Bid For Five in a Row

Having won the last four McKenna Cups and lost the final of the one before that, Tyrone bowed out of this year’s competition tamely enough yesterday against a refreshed Donegal side.

Brian McIver had his lads away in Lanzarote on the team holiday and there’s nothing like a spell in the sun to brighten you up.

Maybe now Tyrone will get on with the real business of getting men fit and ready for a tilt at the Championship with the opportunity to deny Kerry their three in a row the big shiny carrot at the end of the stick. Better that than getting stuck like a rabbit in the floodlights of the McKenna Cup

Waterboys Suffer Parched Earth Policy Change

Would-be Gaelic and Athletic Bobby Bouchers face being restricted to the sidelines following Central Competitions Control Committee ruling that Maor Uisces will no longer be allowed access to the playing pitch.

Up until now county teams nominated two water boys who could double up as motivational assistants or handy men to have in the case of a row - reference John Toal for Armagh against Kerry in 2006.

New regulations means that players will have to make their way over to the side of the pitch to get their much needed fluids on board. The Waterboy will have his station there offering pure water right out of the old canteen or whatever other potions float their boat.

Apparently the sight of four waterboys on the field distributing water was ‘chaotic and fractious.’ Will it mean the end of scenes such as those noted on 2003 when Tyrone’s Eoin Mulligan gave Paul Hearty a bit of a hose down with the water bottle. Also from time to time players from opposing teams may wrastle over who should have a drink. All very juvenile we know but - hey - this is the GAA we’re talking about!

A special meeting has been set up by the PTB to discuss the matter with managers and secretaries on 24 January. It is hoped that it won’t lead to strike action.

Can the GAA Survive a Year Without Cork?

Fears are growing in Cork about the future of the Gaelic Athletic Association nationally should the Rebels strike continue. Feelings are running high in Cork that the action of their senior players will lead to the collapse of the GAA - commentators are reported to have said “Without Cork, they cannot function” and even if they did things wouldn’t be the same.”

At the minute Cork’s position in the national leagues is under no threat but if the player strike continues, it is believed that Cork could be slung out of the competitions or indeed they might have to withdraw. This would be the most humiliating experience for the rebels since they disgraced the GAA by their abject performance in this year’s All Ireland. That following on from the disgraceful scenes at Thurles during the summer. Of course they have a tradition of leaving Croke Park high and dry - witness the time they left before extra time was played in a national league game to ‘get the train’. Jimmy Dunne, chairman of Croke Park’s Central Competitions Control Committee, explained:

“We are aware that they had to pull out of a game earlier this week, but as far as we are concerned at the moment, Cork will be participating in both national leagues. We have fixed times, venues and officials for all of their games. If they have to give a walkover in their first game, then maybe we will have to review the situation and a decision might have to be taken on whether they are going to participate or withdraw.”

Among the likely scenarios if they do fail to fulfill league fixtures is a fine for the county board and suspensions for players who would be deemed not to have fielded. In extremis there is the potential scenario where Cork get thrown out of the GAA house by Big Brother up in Croker and have to reapply.

Talking Balls has a much more innovative solution which we will be passin’ on to our friends in the Cork football and hurling camps. We believe that the players should call off their current action, return to the fray but assert their right to go on strike at any time. So, at a crucial juncture during say a league match Donal Óg, instead of roaring ‘hurl away lads,’ would call a lightening industrial action of the field. If Big Dan’s bearing down on goal and Sully is about to bury him, he would on Donal Óg’s call, simply wave the big man through on goal. Ogie, in turn would nonchalantly step to the side, lean on an upright and direct Shanahan where to place his shot. On the puck out, a short pass to John Mullane and a quick duck to let the ball sail into the top corner. Enter Paul Morrissey or whoever the sub goalie is, Cusack withdrawn. Morrissey if he chose to cross the picket line would quite simply repeat the dose by flicking the ball out to the waiting Seamus Prendergast who would rifle in the Decies third goal in less that two minutes. Game over, strike over.

Now that’s what we call industrial action.

Alan Brogan Bounces His Way to Captaincy

Alan Brogan, the man with the biggest bounce in GAA-dom has been appointed captain of the Dubs for the coming season.

Some counties choose their captains based on the winners of the senior championship, others are chosen by the manager or indeed by the team based on ill-defined ideas of leadership. The Dubs, ever the innovators have come up with an interesting new way to select their leader.

Sources reveal the Dubs had a skills challenge to see who could bounce the ball the highest, further and best as part of a solo run. Alan Brogan won hands down with his unfeasibly higher bouncers - often taking him past several opponents before he regathered the ball.

It I hoped that a feature of his captaincy will be an end to the slabbering at others that besmirched many’s a day in Croker last summer.

Brogan led the Dublin U21 side to All-Ireland glory in 2003 and will be hoping to make it a double at senior level in the coming year.

One True Disbelief!

Confusion reigns in GAA-dom after Croke Park sent a letter to the prophets of gloom in One True Belief stating that no binding decision had been made on players’ grants. The good people of One True Belief led by prominent Tyroneman Mark Conway had sought a hearing with the dreaded DRA to challenge the Central Council decision to back the proposal. (The DRA are paid for their services you should know.)

Central Council instructed their solicitors to send back a letter pointing out that such a request was premature because ‘no binding decision’ had been taken.

Spokesman Fergal McGill said: “Central Council were presented with the grants proposal in December and they agreed to it in principle. There were a couple of caveats to that, one of them being that a mechanism for their distribution be found which would minimise the involvement of County Boards.

“In effect, they haven’t actually taken a decision, they have just adopted it in principle so, what the letter is saying is that, you can’t have a hearing against a decision that hasn’t yet been taken. Until such a time as Central Council formally adapt it and take away the phrase ‘in principal’ then you can go ahead down that road if you choose to do so.”

So there’s the catch - in principle they can take the case but only when the words in principle are taken away. Technically of course there’s no reason why the words in principle should ever be taken away is there?
The full statement of following the Central Council meeting on December 8th read: “Arising out of the unanimous decision of Ard Chomhairle at its meeting in February 2007 to authorise negotiations on the issue of government awards to GAA players, Ard Chomhairle now approves, in principle, the agreement reached in November 2007- subject to the establishment of an acceptable, centralised system for disbursement of funding. Recognising a concern expressed at various levels of the Association, Ard Chomhairle agrees that disbursement will not be made directly through County Boards and that details of a centralised system for disbursement, when finalised, will be presented to Ard Chomhairle for approval. Regarding the Association’s amateur status, Ard Chomhairle recognises the many concerns that have been expressed in the course of this debate. It asks all clubs and county committees to consider their compliance with the relevant rules and regulations and to submit their views and proposals prior to a full discussion on the preservation of our amateur status by Coiste Bainisti and Ard Chomhairle.”

Predictably Mark Conway is not amused. “The case we took to the DRA was based on the firm belief [note, not the One True Belief (Ed)] that Central Council broke Rule 11 on December 8th. Central Council had no more authority to break the rule than you or I. Then we got a letter back saying that no real decision was taken on December 8th. It is unbelievable. I’m totally amazed. The message was loud and clear in December (that agreement was reached) The GPA called off their threatened strike action. But contrary to the official press release no decision was taken. It is amazing and disappointing. In plain Tyrone language there is no binding decision which means there is nothing to appeal against.”

On a related matter, Irish golfer Graeme McDowell was unable to shed much light on the GAA world when he gave his sports predictions for 2008 but he did point out that as an amateur golfer he had benefited from Irish Sports Council Grants. If golf with its rigorous rule on amateur status can accept granting from a third party, is there a lesson for the rest of us?

Laochra Gael

The seventh season of TG4’s acclaimed Laochra Gael series threw-in last Thursday night and even Derry people had to admit how good Peter Canavan was when they watched the opening programme.

Each of the 10 programmes blends archive footage, personal reminiscence from the player and family members with assessments from team-mates, opponents, journalists, commentators and GAA historians. The great players profiled in this latest new series are Peter Canavan, Martin Storey, Tony Hanahoe, Mick Lyons, Noel Skehan, Jack O’Shea, Seán Óg de Paor, Anthony Daly, Ger Manas, Teddy McCarthy and Jimmy Doyle.

Cupla Faecal - Drugs and Sport

This week resident expert Ger Manas had to spend time at home with the wife after picking something Up. Gave him time to reflect on drugs, sport and the life of a drugs tester - now there’s one crap job!

There’s nothing worse than spending time at home with the wife if she’s in foul humour - I’ve had that pleasure for a few days now cos I had a bit of a dose of that novovirus or whatever they call it. At least I had an excuse… Ye can do nothing right no matter how hard ye try and she’s a face on her that would sour milk - God Knows I’m sure there’s many’s a fella knows how I feel about that.

I was reading there in the paper that 30% of women’s handbags have what they call evidence of ‘faecal bacteria’ on the bottoms of them from being set down in bathroom floors. F*** me thought I to meself. Ye know the way at dances and the like no woman can go to the bog until they all decide the want to go and then they’re all in there I suppose until they all decide to come back out again. To me it always meant the fellas could get an extra pint or two in but I’d a great laugh when I read that about the ‘faecal bacteria’. So not only can they go to the bog to talk shite, now they’re bringing it back out with them. Then they go home, they gets up the next day and sets the handbag down on the passenger seat of the oul Clio. Next thing is they’re atin a bit of salad out of Marks and Spencer or some of them fancy places and a bit lands on the car seat, she scoops that up into her gob and god forbid her car seat has some of the faecal bacteria off the bottom of the handbag. Well I dunno where I got my dose but it wasn’t good - hope it wasn’t some of that stuff anyway. Drugs couldn’t stop it - twas about as useful as trying to stop a cow shitin’ with a table tennis ball.

Anyway, when I felt a bit better I had the chance to go to hear an English lady called Michelle Verokken talk about drugs in sport. She used to be Head of Drugs Testing in UK Sport and now works for a crowd called Sporting Integrity.

I would say now listening to her that what she doesn’t know isn’t worth knowing about drugs. Aghast I was when she toul us the lengths that athletes go to cheat the drug testers. They will fill their drinking bottle with urine - usually someone else’s - and stroll into the testing bays. Then, when it’s time to produce the goods they’ll take a swoosh from the bottle and spit her into the testing bottle. No-one’s the wiser and the test’s passed alrite.

She also toul us, and I found this hard to believe but it’s true, that they have to check the genitals - no less - of the athlete to make sure they’re real. So yer man might have an oul falsie he can whip out to fool the testers. That’d be some job being trained to look for that! Also, they have these yokes they can hide in places best left to your imagination with a tube coming out and a wee reservoir of pee so that when the time comes they can sluice away. As for the glamour of the job, its great - she was at the last few Olympics and world championships and that - the downside sez Michelle - is that ye spend the entire time, in the toilets, testing athletes. With the new rules on doping and sport and all that stuff, they can track down where you were and what you were at if you missed a test. This is by checkin’ yer phone bills, credit card statements and the like. Apparently that’s how that big useless hoor Rio Ferdinand got caught out. I think too that sort of evidence nailed yer woman Marion Jones that got put away last week. Altho’ I felt sorry for that girl and her still with a wee wean ye have to say if you cheat chances are ye’ll get caught.

Listening to Michelle now I thought of some of the gabshites I have met playin’ football. These club fellas with their three tins of Red Bull before and during a game - gives them wings? Me hole - makes them even more energetic at being worse. She reckoned athletes need specific guidance on what drugs to take for colds and flu’s. I can see some of our fellas that never bought a tablet in their life on an away trip with the county - the head gets sore, they get a toothache or the piles is playin’ up - whatever. Next thing buy a few tablets without looking at the sidebar and when the testers arrived he’s f***ed, stigmata-ed, and branded a drugs cheat. These fellas and girls is still amateur no matter what anyone says. They might gat a few euro from the government and the Irish Sports Council might be stipulatin’ this and that about drugs testing as a condition but when you compare some of our fellas with these other punters - cyclists, sprinters, jumpers, weight lifters - when’s the last time there was a clean 100 metre run?

I’d be worried now that our athletes need a bit more education because listening to yer woman we’re not even at the races. She was telling us too how over 40 per cent of the athletes in the Sydney Games had medication for asthma - far more than the proportion in the general population. This year too the Brits athlete body is giving their athlete the right supplements so they can deal with the smog in Beijing. That’s like teams from the loughshore getting special stuff to keep the midgees away. She talked too about the ideal athletic physique - it varies by sport and can be developed by working specific groups of muscle. At the most extreme end of the spectrum ye could have cyclists with big aerodynamic humps on their backs made of neck muscle or maybe a special implant.

Is this shite I’m talking? No it’s not - already them black runners from Kenya and Ethiopia have more red blood cells from living up the mountains - they only come down to kick the white man’s ass when it comes to long distance running. Nature’s selected them boys. So will it be particular training or maybe genetic selection that determines the next generation of players. They used to joke that a few Tyrone women should go off down the country to breed with big men from Meath and Kerry and the likes so Tyrone could have big progeny! I suppose the girls was doin’ that anyway of their own bat. Imagine a lad that had the strength of Tohill, the aggression of Galvin, the skills of Gooch, the height of Donaghy, the engine of Dooher, the mouth of Brolly, the brain of McGuigan, the arse of Geoffrey McGonigle, and the biceps of McGeeney. Sure that’d be some sort of hoor of a fella. Compared to the boys at the minute with the shooting skills of Paul Hearty, the Brain of a mule, and the arse of a baboon - ye get the picture.

The point is where’d ye draw the line? I suppose the point about club teams is the playing is the drug and the challenge is watching fellas play against the odds and see what sort of job they make of it. Just this week, after going to the lecture I was thinking the wife must be on drugs, that or else she’s genetically modified to short circuit with me.

This week in Talking Balls, we follow the increasing incidence of current players cashing in on their celebrity to give an insight into what it’s like to be a county player. We have secured the services of fictional hurler Daniel O’Donnelly who tells us what it is like to live by the pen, hurl by the pen, and possibly and very quickly die a painful and tortured death by the pen. Ahem, where did we get this idea? We can’t reveal our sources.Some further innovations to report - the new series of Blunderdogs is looking for victims - can you help? Also, Leinster counties play fast and loose with the transfer system.

Up in Derry they’re all set to celebrate another big year in 2008. We may be giving away tickets for that one.

We consider the predictions of Michael Greenan - surely a prophet of our time. We have no real coverage of the grants this week, only a few frivolous pieces. We notice the punters voted with their feet yesterday, turning up in their droves to watch the pampered ones in action. Did anyone of One True Belief go to a match? If you saw them let us know - we don’t know as the intrepid Talking Balls‘ team sat on their holes in protest and watched the match on TV. The only exception was the Office WAG out shirt tugging as usual. She hasn’t been the same since she didn’t get an invite to that Man United party before Christmas.

Oh, and by the way, Happy New Year, we haven’t gone away you know despite what you hoped! If your balls are still hanging up your tree, get a life. For everyone else, there’s always Talking Balls.

The Unfeasibly Foolish and Fictitious GAA Diary of Daniel O’Donnelly

Well you sacks of shit, my name is Daniel O’Donnelly and I hurl for the fictitious county of Ballyballbag. I’m here on this crappy Squareball website to tell you what life is really like as a pretend inter-county hurler and I’m earning a media fee that will make those shit grants negotiated by the GPA like small change. I am an imaginary member of the Real GPA. I wear imaginary shorts, a totally transparent shirt with one of those cool looking but pointless CCC undershirts on - my boots are made-up Puma Kings and my socks reek in the fashion of an olfactory affront. I have free gear galore and I am a legend in my own club - people have heard of me, read about me but they rarely see me. Long may it continue.

In the Ballyballbag County Squad we have a whole group of made up players, our manager is straight out of the great book of GAA stereotypes and we have all the usual paraphernalia - sports psychologists, plyometrics experts, hydrationists, nutritionists, onanists, experts from this pretend university and that other entirely unbelievable Centre of Excellence for sport in the town of Nibbledenob. A real bloodsucking pipistrelle of a physio looks after our ailments real and imaginary, and a team doctor that can stitch a feigned injury. We also have a top motivational guru to massage our engorged egos as well as the parts others can’t and daren’t reach.

Our training is unfeasibly tough, we have the obligatory sergeant major-like physical trainer based on the likes of Mike Mac who calls us all girls - or am I imagining that - and the smooth talking inspirational genius a la Mickey Harte. We have rich benefactors galore with the widest pockets in cloud cuckoo GAA-dom. We have developers flying into training every night of the week in illusory helicopters to see how we are getting on and to ask what we need - landing pitchside surreal style like something from Apocalypse Now. They unload bevvies of lovelies, chicks from the sticks - there’s nothing like a hot roast after training - because hey as fictitious county GAA stars we get our rocks off whenever we want. Especially after a few clichéd rounds of Magners cider washed down with a round of those jagermeister shots. We have emotionally charged bonding sessions when our assistant manager - in the manner of Colonel Kurtz but about fifty seven illusory stone lighter - mumbles a series of motivational nuggets that spark our pretend enthusiasm beyond anything the made up mumbo jumbo of Al Pacino can even begin to approach.

Come matchday we can poc the ball further, jump higher and run faster than anyone since Cuchullain - another legendary but made up hero of Ireland. We play other pretend counties like Drumbanna - they’re shit but the GAA in the county is likewise populated by a swathe of typical characters painted in grotesque hues in every cartoon description of the modern GAA. They too have their stars, some of whom are also writing ghost written made up columns in newspapers - their performance on matchday not due to their own commitment and dedication but rather at the whim of a ghostly writer.

“Diarmuid O’Donkey played shit, he couldn’t lift a sock and he couldn’t catch it if he was paying for it…”

Naw don’t like that… “Diarmuid O’Donkey was brilliant, his first touch and his eye for goal reminiscent of the great DJ…”

Diarmuid O’Donkey had to see the team shrink after that one - from hero to zero at the stroke of a pen, or the flick of PDA wand, the strike of a key stroke not a sliotar. Can he live this way knowing his entire game is at the whim of a poorly talented scribe and a judgemental editor. Can he f**k!

‘Real GAA men don’t drink pints of Magners with ice, they drink stout like they did in my day and they wash it down with Jamesons.’ Says the real editor.

‘Not any more they don’t,’ errs the cub ghostwriter, not sure how his inter county source will react when he hears the training regime is shaped not by science but by an editor who thinks he knows best.

“What about twenty laps of the pitch and six weeks before the balls thrown in - we used to do that… Make sure Diarmuid O’Donkey trains hard next week, no hamstring pulls or groin strains. If he gets injured just edit it out and makes sure he plays on te f**k - we have this deadline for this shitty column so he needs gametime.”

So there ye have it ye stand lubbers - ye buy the papers, ye read the crap the reporters write and every week there’s two matches - the game that’s played and the game the reporters describe: ‘I hear Murphy played well.’ ‘Did he f**k…’ says the three hundred and fifty ballfroze souls that actually went to the game but sure what’s in the papers is all that counts. Well your sacks of shite, now ye are getting it both ways with us players getting’ our own back, and now we’re getting paid and its out in the open you can expect more of it.

Hold you breath for more next time, from the unreal world of Daniel O’Donnelly, the precociously transparent and ultimately illusory iománador. Ballyballbag hurling - where real men fear to tread.

Wicklow’s Walsh to End Loan Period

Loyal readers of Talking Balls if such a thing exists will remember we drew attention to the prolonged and farcical situation of Thomas Walsh who transferred to Wicklow from his native Carlow, in a move that allegedly had Mick O Dwyer’s hands all over it. Walsh played an important role in his adopted county’s Tommy Cooper cup success when they pipped perennial losers Antrim in the final in Croker.

Well, it appears that his sojourn with Wicklow may be a short one as former Dub and now manager of Carlow Paul Bealin is keen top recruit Walsh back into the Carlow fold. Sez Paul:

“I will be talking with Thomas this week. I’m not sure whether Thomas is fully committed to Wicklow for this year, but it’s in our interests to talk to him. Thomas is a huge player out of midfield. I’m anxious to have him as part of my squad. This week I hope to persuade him to return to his native county. I’ll be leaving no stone unturned to change things around.”

According to the Examiner and why would we disbelieve them, Bealin has brought a whole new professional approach to the Carlow set-up which he hopes will tempt Walsh into returning.

In a separate development an unnamed Ulster county may be inviting the likes Declan Browne to join them - unofficially for just one season - to help them win something.

Is this the start of the merry-go-round or just more playground games from the increasingly immature GAA managers?

Is Michael Greenan the doomed Prophetess Cassandra reincarnated?

Cursed to predict the future but never to be believed, Talking Balls researchers have drawn astonishing similarities between Comhairle Uladh Chairman Michael Greenan and the Greek prophetess Cassandra.

According to Greek Mythology Cassandra spent the night at Apollo’s temple where the temple snakes licked her ears clean so that she was able to hear the future. Apollo loved Cassandra and when she did not return his love, he cursed her so that her gift would become a source of endless pain and frustration.

When Cassandra foresaw the fall and destruction of the city of Troy, she warned the Trojans about the Wooden Horse of Troy - which you will remember the Greeks used to sneak their way into the city - to the death of Agamemnon and her own death. She was however was unable to do anything to stop these things happening. Her family believed she was mad, and apparently kept her locked up - this drove her insane although some versions have her as being simply misunderstood.

Roll forward a few thousand years, and having wagged the wooden donkeys of soccer and rugby in with a fanfare unseen in Irish sport - Michael Greenan points the finger with Cassandra-esque precision.

“I said that from day one - once we opened Croke Park to other sports, how do we close it? Why can’t we play our national hurling or football league finals there or our Ulster final. Then you look at the time the other teams have in Croke Park. The rugby and soccer sides get five or six training sessions there while any team playing in the All-Ireland final is lucky to get half an hour out on the pitch. The soccer game against Brazil is basically a challenge match. If Cork or Kerry or whoever play a challenge game, it is done behind closed doors.

“All the money that is being made by the soccer will then be helped pay for a manager who will probably be sacked long before his contract expires. You can’t cure the damage done because the other sporting organisations have made huge money out of the GAA’s generosity.”

“We’ve lost the plot.”

Many dismiss the boul Michael’s comments as the ravings of a lunatic. Others consider him a prophet of the GAA? What do you think?

First the Underdogs - now the Blunderdogs

Following on from the success of the Underdogs series which saw Kieran Donaghy discovered as a county star and featured a troupe of gullible young ladies running into the sea stripped to their underwear - all in aid of television you understand - an Ulster based production company have come forward looking for a successful club team to volunteer to have their management taken over by a group of complete novices.

Producer Peter Attenborough said: “With the recent focus on the GPA and grants and the like, a lot of the hidden stories of gaelic games have emerged and all is not as rosy in the garden as some people might think. Some say that these club managers drive the length and breadth of the country because they love the game, not because the local developer or ballroom owner or laundry magnate is bankrolling them. That got us thinking about the cult of the GAA manager - are they worth a shite or not? Why pay some big cheese from Armagh or Derry to come and manage your team when the perfect candidate may be lurking within your own area and you don’t know it - maybe working as a bank manager, or HR manager or local sex therapist or whatever. These sorts of people are happy enough to go to the odd game and shout the odds so let’s see if they could cut the mustard pitch side.”

According to Attenborough the programme will observe the management team at close quarters. “We are looking for a team to volunteer to let these bollixes in for the forthcoming season. It’s early enough in the year now for them to get a shot at decent preparations. We are also recruiting individuals to be our Blunderdogs - all they need are a couple of brain cells - we’ll provide the bainisteoir’s bibs.”

Further details for interested clubs and individuals are available by contacting Michael at Squareball directly.

Cork Players on Strike in South America

In a bid to gain international support for their principled stance on the matters of who should select them for the Cork senior team, the Rebels have taken their fight to that bastion of good labour practices, Brazil as well as Argentina, the birthplace of the rebel-to-end-all-rebels Che Guevara - and let us not forget that Che Guevara’s father said in 1969 after his martyrdom, “The first thing to note is that in my son’s veins flowed the blood of the Irish rebels.” Man of Cork or what?

Among those going for a Brazilian is hoary old Runai Frank Murphy, sleeping with the enemy is he or just ensuring that the players don’t break any of the conditions of their strike while they are away. Frank has a curious Jekyll and Hyde appeal to the players - some saying if they were tried for murder they would like Murphy to defend him indeed Sadaam Hussein is believed to have thought the Cork veteran could have helped him beat the rap this time last year.

Just in case anyone was in any doubt about the Cork holiday and whether the players had to be herded onto the plane like errant mineworkers in Yorkshire during the Thatcher years, the football squad are adamant that the trip has nothing go to do with the controversy, in that it is largely organised by themselves, and funded by the Croke Park and Munster Council holiday fund, along with the various team sponsors and other fundraising efforts. Well, we suppose they would say that…

One unnamed Cork player, obviously inspired at arriving in the land of Guevara, and following a path trodden by Che’s maternal grandmother’s family, the Lynchs of Mayo, told waiting reporters when asked about the strike, “if you tremble indignation at every injustice then you are a comrade of mine.” When asked about the failure of the Cork forwards in the All Ireland Final by a CNN reporter one of the members of the beleaguered attacking unit reportedly answered that it was a team effort, and was not about individuals, adding: ‘I don’t care if I fall as long as someone else picks up my gun and keeps on shooting.” Indeed.

Hasta la victoria siempre.

Derry to Celebrate Fifteenth Anniversary

Talking Balls can reveal that the Derry Co Board has planned a series of events in 2008 to mark fifteen years since they last won the Sam Maguire, their one and only victory coming in 1993, all of fifteen years ago.

To mark the fifteen year famine, Derry people the length and breadth of the County will be reflecting on a period that has seen near neighbours Tyrone win the Sam Maguire twice, thereby grabbing all the bragging rights. Even a victory in June 2006 Omagh against the second string of the reigning All Ireland champions Tyrone which Derry celebrated like an All Ireland success can’t offset the pangs of longing among the Oak Leafs. For some the anniversary is still crystal clear in their minds, for others it is a dim and distant memory.

One prominent Derry person who declined to be named said: “I can’t wait until 2018 - we will celebrate the silver jubilee since we last won the All Ireland in the style to which we have become accustomed.”

In the meantime, the famine goes on… and on… and on…

Hens Teeth abound as Kilkenny Footballers Play a Match

Those rarest of animals - the Cats that love big balls - had a rare outing yesterday in the O’Byrne Cup against Carlow.

It was certainly a case of Cat and Mouse for a while by all accounts but the tables finally turned and the footballers of Carlow put the Kilkenny men to sword predictably enough. Kilkenny’s performance was ‘encouraging’ according to eye witness accounts - ‘several players were able to actually kick the ball you mean’ shouted the Office WAG. Talking Balls notes that hurling ace Eddie Brennan bagged a penalty but it wasn’t enough. Let’s hope this isn’t a false dawn and they’ll field a few more times this season.

Poly half of Tyrone beat Continuity Tyrone in Ulster Derby

A UUJ team comprising seven or eight Tyrone men, not including injured skipper Peter Donnelly defeated All-Ireland wannabees Tyrone.

Curiously Tyrone supreme Mickey Harte forgot himself with his post match remarks singling out a number of players from the opposition as the stand out players on display and not surprisingly they were all Tyrone men. It was the first defeat suffered by the Red Hands in the Dr McKenna Cup since their defeat to Monaghan in 2003 - not counting the times the Ulster Council took the points off them and then gave them back.

Follow the Yellow Tick Road

Resident Expert Ger Manas reflects on a peaceful family Christmas until TG4 and the Wizard of Oz gets him back in the way of things. His advice for ‘08? Follow the Yellow Trick Road

To be honest with ye now I enjoyed the break over Christmas sittin’ about on me hole, which the wife diplomatically toul me was getting’ bigger day by day, walking the hounddog, goin’ fishin’. Some hoor from Armagh bate me to catchin the first salmon of the year down in the Drouse but to be honest, that salmon fishin’s better left to me brother-in-law. He’s a Cumbrian wily coyote of a hoor and he has that many rods up his sleeve the fish is practically jumpin’ into the net to get away from all the tricks he has. Talk about walkin’ the line!

I made the mistake of tellin’ the wife I was thinkin’ of writin’ about the sort of break I had but she sez ‘what would them deadbeats that read that nonsense you write give a toss about our Christmas and you blowin’ off both ends.’ She’s sometimes right that one. Anyone, we were out shoppin’ one day and I was toul to buy meat so I went into that M&S and lifted a big lump of meat - prime British Aberdeen Angus Beef it says. I went back to empty handed but to be fair after the givin’ out when I told her none of our ones would eat the beef cos it was British she grudgingly agreed. We compromised though - it looked good and Aberdeen’s in Scotland. Ye can never be too inflexible - gets ye into situations it does.

I was watching the telly one night and the best bits of Irish sport was one - now me bein’ me I would have just put down the last fifteen years of hurlin’ and football finals but that’s just the way I am. Next thing yer woman Michelle Smith comes on chattin about winnin’ the Olympics. ‘F**k me,’ sez I to the son, ‘I thought she was suspended.’ He tells me the viewers of TG4 voted her into ninth place. Sometimes I wonder about Irish people and me one of them. Ye can’t even blame the culchies on this one cos everyone gets TG4 nowadays. If you do the crime you should do the time but then I suppose Michelle still has her medals so who am I? The next thing Eamon Coughlan was on and I was near in tears reading listening about him in the Olympics - I remember it well - and then him practically givin’ that Russian boyo the bird as he ran past him in the World Championships - what a legend.

Then Eamon goes and ruins it all by telling us how he was so proud when everyone in Croke Park sang God Save the Queen during that rugby match in Croker last year. I’d have given Eamon a good boot in the hole if I’d got my hands on him in our livin’ room - I know two fellas weren’t singing and that was me and me brother both. I saw people singin’ it right enough that should have known better but, be advised my passport’s green as my good friend famous Seamus once said.

I managed to get kickin’ a bit of ball and hurlin’ too over the break - our club has a few of them charity games and I have to tell ye - the oul magic’s still there. So’s the gut and backside right enough but it’s great coaching young ones how to catch the sliotar when you can show them at first hand how to go up through a crowd and pull her down as if you were after catching a swift, so fast was yer hand in the air. For any of ye coaching catching - that’s the secret, get the hand up and down good and quick. Don’t let is sit up there like an oul clocking hen or someone will pull it off ye.

I watched a couple of the McKenna cup games over the last week and it got me thinkin’ again about yellow carding people - there’s talkin of changing the system again.

Watching the Derry match yesterday where I think three or four of their backs got a yellow and one got subbed you have a situation where a back division can commit a total of eighteen fouls before one is startin’ to look at getting roaded. If each player whales the man early on, he normally gets away with the first one unless he’s a total gouger altogether or the ref’s Gearoid O Conamha (as he likes to be called now). He might then get ticked the next time and only then get the yellow. So you see there, eighteen fouls can be added up in no time. Meanwhile the forward’s getting the shite kicked out of him by one man after another. Now if the forward unit’s dung and there’s only one or two dacent players then that’s when the thing goes wrong. How many times you seen the forward get a card for getting caught when he’s the shirt pulled off him, nip marks all over his hole, bruises up and down his back and a big footprint on the back of his shorts and a couple of muddy knee marks on the front of the shirt? Stevie O’Neill used to be a wile man for just seeing red and whaling some hoor hard as he could.

Nowadays county managers seem to operate this policy and when the man gets his yellow he gets reeled in like the brother-in-law does with the salmon. The real tightrope walker is the man who’s got the yellow and then gets a tick, last chance saloon man that he is. Those boys are few and far between but they dice with death a bit much for my likin’. Sometimes though, like me with the Aberdeen meat ye have to compromise on this one and let them wreck on. This is all grand until ye realise the defenders ye have on the bench are like f**kin navvies, hands like shovels, feet like JCBs and brains like mushed peas. In that case yer nearly better with fourteen or to let the dicey defender follow the yellow trick road. Managing yer allocation of yellows can be the difference between winning and losing so think about it next time yer on the sideline.

Anyway, Happy New Year from me - I made a few resolutions - one was to cut the bad language. So far its goin’ not so bad.