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Referee in typical pose - the hoor

Dublin City University was the place to be this week if you wanted to witness a bit of scientific abuse of referees. Yes, the country’s top middlemen were in town to be probed, tested, analysed, profiled and reprogrammed as part of the ongoing commitment to ensure our refs are the best in the country. Their blood was tested, their fat levels recorded, both shoulders tested for chips, their lung capacities recorded, their hearing analysed. The parentage was questioned, as was their manhood.

Most of the country’s top referees passed with flying colours but one or two still qualified as complete b******ds despite the intensive programme of testing. 

Snapping on the rubber gloves to see just what makes the country’s top whistlers whistle was Professor Niall Moyna. Not a stone was left unturned or an orifice left unexamined – everything from the strength with which they blew the whistle, the erection of their arms, the brightness of their red and yellow cards and the standard of handwriting on their reports was under scrutiny. Likewise their familiarisation with technology was worked on, to facilitate onging communication with linesmen and the wife to let her know to have the dinner ready.

A series of confidential investigations supported by a questionnaire were used to determine whether any had eyesight problems and indeed if there were any contributing factors that may have exacerbated deteriorating eyesight.

According to the official line, the Powers That be at Croke want to ensure referees can perform at the highest standard. All tests were paid for by the GAA, while sports psychologist Canice Kennedy was hired for both evenings to address both sets of referees.

Sounds like deadly craic altogether.

It is understood that Kerry Captain Paul Galvin was unable to attend to talk to the referees and give the players’ perspective.

Camogs in Ulster and throughout Ireland were greatly saddened by news of the death of Rosina McManus on Tuesday evening. Rosina, a former President of the Camogie Association, became unwell after watching Antrim defeat Derry at Dunloy in the Ulster Final on Sunday evening.

A lifelong camogie fanatic, she coached the U-14s in her club James Connolly’s right up to the week before she passed away and also refereed at the highest level. Camogs told Talking Balls this week how as a traditionalist she was a strict adherent for the rulebook ensuring for example that girls should be properly attired when theyplayed in a competition. None of those cycling shorts for her! Likewise, she promoted traditional values of respect and fair play and for years was in charge of the Antrim U-16 team. Former and current players and adminstrators across Ulster and throughout Ireland held her in the deepest respect and affection. She was particularly supportive of colleges’ camogie in Ulster where she was Ulster Colleges Treasurer for over forty years. 

After collapsing after the match on Sunday, Rosina was taken to Causeway hospital where she passed away 48 hours later. During that time friends and colleagues from the wider camogie family maintained a bedside vigil and were there with her in her final hours. May she rest in peace.

The Underdogs - highlighting new talent

Are you handy with the big ball, toned, fit, keen, photogenic? (not essential but preferable) Have you never played for your county or received an All Star - all through no fault of your own?

If you answer yes to these questions, or indeed your sister, mother, neighbour, wife, secretary, bit of stuff across the landing or her mate can say: ‘yes, yes’, then TG4 and Adare productions want to hear from you.

Trials for the Ladies’ Underdogs panel are set to commence later this month with national pride at stake when the final panel take on London All Star in December - a team that is to be made up of the best players in Britain.

Last year saw the Underdogs defeat the New York All Star in a tense final. The success of the team highlighted the skills and attributes of the team to a whole new audience, in some cases their county management and a number have since moved onto county success. This year the panel will travel to London to take on Britain’s finest.

Davy Fitz takes time out to meet a young fan

So Davy fits the bill for the troubled Waterford hurling team after all. It was announced this morning - Tuesday that he had taken over the slot vacated by Justin McCarthy, although it transpires that he had already take a squad session over the weekend. He was non-committal when quizzed on the Sunday Game about his plans.

Davy Fitz has already enjoyed success in his coaching and managerial career to date with LIT in the Fitzgibbon, and worked with teams in Clare, Kilkenny and Galway as well as travelling up and down to coach the Antrim U-21s a few years back.

Any readers of his biography Passion and Pride will know that Davy is one seriously focused and driven individual. Written with an honesty and truthfulness absent from many’s a sporting autobiography the books reveals the determination that Davy brings to his job. He is in record as saying of his decision to take over the mantle at LIT where the team did not have enough shirts when he arrrived: “I like these challenges and turning the underdog into a winner is far more satisfying than continuing to feed the fatted calf.”

On his reaction to a defeat: “I was angrier with myself becasue I hadn’t trained the players properly. I had been too lenient with them letting them come and go as they pleased but I swore that would not happen again. . . I pride myself on the fact that the players in any team I am over always give 100%.”

On preparing for a particular crunch game: “I was meticulous in my preparation and one night less than two weeks before the game, I spent six hours going through every aspect of our preparation in extreme detail. I examined the team; I thought of what I wnated to say to every fella the week before the game and what I wanted to say to the lads on the day of the match itself. I don’t want to see the players uptight before a match and I like to create an atmosphere where they feel good going onto the pitch.”

He was reported and suspended as manager for saying to referee Pat Horan “Pat you’re only a f***** c*** after what you did today and I’ll do you if I get the chance.” Having said that though he then apologised to Horan afterwards, whilst still explaining why he’d felt the need to say it. He had the LIT squad visit the grave of his friend and their mentor Trixie Twomey before games. A complex and dedicated fella indeed.

Over the years Davy Fitz has attarcted his fair share of critics, most of whom gathered behind his goal to give out the verbals. No doubt those goons will be rubbing their paws. 

 And what of Fitzgerald and the Waterford players? “So what if they were kissing their jerseys and playing to the crowd. John Mullane and Eoin Kelly had pride in their shirts, the single biggest ingredient for a championship Sunday. They did the business, played with pride and heart and I took my hat off to them. . . ”

If you’re from Antrim, be afraid be very afraid. If you’re from Waterford, be afraid, be very afraid too. If Davy Fitz clicks, will your heart be up to it in early September in Croker?

Eoin Kelly tries a snooker trick shot during the match

Tipperary ended their eighty five year famine in Cork by winning on Sunday in Pairc Ui Caoimh. The crowd control arrangements at the Cork venue obviously haven’t moved on much in the intervening years with a number of supporters allowed onto the pitch to tell Donal Óg where to direct his puc outs. His response is unpublishable.

For those Talking Balls readers of tender years, of course in 1923 there was no internet, no mobile phones, no digital cameras. The world was a black and white place in them days and things were more clear cut. There were no TV replays, no DRA and no RTE pundits. Women didn’t go to matches so tickets were easier come by and they certainly didn’t head out in the some of the get-ups you see at matches nowadays - such were some of the plunging necklines on view at matches in Omagh and Cork yesterday that a number of spectators had to be rescued and resuscitated after they fell in. Likewise, the attire of menfolk was better - tweed jackets and a tie, finished off with a hat or cap to shade the fans from the heat of the sun and maybe the skelp of a blackthorn stick from an opposing supporter.

According to the Nenagh Guardian’s account of that day:

“Owing to the absence of special trains, many GAA enthusiasts of Tipperary and Limerick did not make the journey. A goodly number went by train on Saturday evening as far as Middleton, and took cars there for Cork. This was a difficult stage, as nearly every bridge on the road was precarious, but the party arrived without mishap. On Sunday morning from an early hour, a large crowd began to gather at the venue. The splendid new Ford road running through the centre of the Park was a decided boon to the heavy motor traffic to the grounds. The matches were favoured with ideal weather, and the arrangements for the convenience of the immense crowd present were very much appreciated.”

Tipp fans celebrated and inebriated well into the night

Played as part of a double header, Tipp won both matches.

“Cork attacked in force but O’Meara in Tipperary goal treated the spectators to a display of his familiar skill in goal keeping. Long length drives brought Tipperary down the field again and Hayes got a point. Tipperary playing with dash and judgement got two goals, and when the half time whistle went, the scores were Tipp 3-2 Cork 1 goal. In the second half, Tipperary found the net after some smart exchanges. Cork got another goal, but they were still much in arrears, and in subsequent exchanges there was no doubting Tipperary’s superiority in all departments of the game.”

After the match was over, the victorious Tipp fans sand the dirge Slievenamon with tremendous gusto, and drank pints of porter and hearty  jorums of whiskey with a vigour not see since Dan Breen decided to give peace a chance. Such was the carousing, dancing at the crossroads and general buck-lepery that Tipp were unable to translate their Munster success to All Ireland glory. In fact it was 1925 before they managed to retain the All Ireland with Galway winning in 1923 and Dublin in 1924. Is this an omen or will they manage to keep their feet on the ground eighty five years on? We’ll see.

Last orders for Louth

Dublin and Louth pub teams? Let’s examine the evidence that led to Louth manager Eamon McEneaney walking out of the post match press conference in Croker’s fancy media briefing suite.

One team was missing  a load of players because of a row they got involved in during a match - one in all in. A large number of their supporters regularly miss the start of matches because they’re still in the pub. The same supporters love nothing more than a good old sing song down their local. Certainly sounds like a pub team to us.  

However, Louth manager McEneaney begged to differ, describing the pub team jibe as “insulting to my team and to the Dublin team”.

“For 45 minutes we were doing well until we gave away a silly goal. We gave the ball away and next thing it had ended up in the back of the net. You could see from the body language of our lads that it was a crushing blow. From that to the end it was just a one horse game. The Dubs were throwing it around and sticking the ball over the bar at will. It’s very disappointing but those are the facts of football.”

Bubs manager was in less touchy form although his reputation means the shutters can often go down well before last orders are called. “It was a very poor first half performance. We were unhappy about it and it wasn’t good enough. First rounds of the championship are notorious. Fair play to the players, they settled in the second half and they looked a better team. We have to be going forward.”

We think it’s your round Pillar.

No witchhunt for McCarthy?

And so ended the worst week for McCarthy’s since Senator Joe died in 1957 from too much sauce.

 Vanquished Cork Manager Ger McCarthy had no complaints after his team’s six point defeat to Tipperary. Acknowledging Tipp were the better team Gerald said: ”We were chasing the game at the end and when that happens, you make mistakes,” he said.

Despite criticisms of the decision to throw in a number of younger players and suggestions in some quarters that the remainder of the team is getting on McCarthy insisted that this Cork team still has plenty of hurling in them. The younger players were showing up well in training he argued.

Of the older lads?”Their dedication has to be seen to be believed and it’s up to the younger players to step up to the plate. Sean Óg gave a display of power hurling and tried everything to turn it around but a county gets players like this only once in a lifetime.”

It is not thought McCarthy will suffer the fate of the now-fashionable Munster hurling witchhunt suffered by by his old playing partner Justin or so beloved of Senator Joe.

This week Resident Expert Ger Manas reflects on how a minor matter like a relationship breakdown can lead to an outbreak of local hostilities. Big style.

The GAA are great fellas for setting man again’ wife, nephew again’ uncle, brother against sister and gobshite against gobshite. I’m talkin’ about the rivalry between one club and their neighbours. F***in Iraq wouldn’t get a look in.

Jaze there’s matches round where I come from that folks will travel miles and miles across county boundaries to watch them kick the shite out of each other - and that might only be for an under eight game.

They can talk about Milan and Inter, Barca against Real and that shite in Scotland they call the Old Firm but I’ll tell ye - there’s nothin’ like an oul GAA rivalry to set the pulse racing, the heart poundin and leave a pile of boys up in casualty with extensive blood injuries and the odd compound fracture. I’ve even heard of a prolapsed arse after one hurlin’ match whatever the bejaze that is. I certainly would want to see it. I’ve been involved in many’s the oul local game and Jaze they’re never an easy experience. Winning is class but if ye get bate ye have an oul pain in the chest a glaze in the eye and sickness in the gut that’s puke ye, just puke ye for maybe even a year. That is until ye can put it right.

Often time the womenfolk are at the heart of much of the difficulty. The rivalry can go back years when, as a young wan she caught her soon to be beloved in the back sate of her Morris with Bridie from the Rovers or whatever. Worse again if he’s with Brendan of the Rovers but we’ll park that. The excuse that he had dropped his fountain-pen between the gap in her seats is no excuse. The marriage would have been abandoned instantly, the car headlamps burst with a hurley and her man’s hole black and blue from the weltin it got before he had a chance to get the Y fronts back up in time.

The cause of a bitter local rivalry that spilled onto the pitch

I knew of one yoke who suspected her man of playing away in the local derby sense with the oul spinster sister of the chairman of the club in the next parish. Tasty oul yoke she was too which was surprising as her mother was brutal and the father had a sorta hunch back. The only way yer wan reckoned she could catch the husband on the ball was to hide in the boot of the red Toyota hatchback amongst the kitbags, boots, socks, water bottles and whatnot. The stench now would have been fierce but so too was her determination to catch yer man in Flagrante or whatever ye called the yoke from the other parish.

Anyone, off he sails up the mountain road, singin’ along to Neil Diamond singin’ Sweet Caroline. Next things, pulls over and lifts yer wan who’s parked up a lane. Off they go up the side of a hill and tail off into the layby. Well things is going deadly, the steam’s rising and Clapton’s singin’ Wonderful Tonight, so just when the balls about to be thrown in, yer man’s wife bursts through from the boot of the Toyota shoutin’ “Get your hands and them things away from my husband ye dirty oul hoor of a bitch.”

Jaze the husband nearly needed the Order of Malta ambulance after she scared the shite out of him and meanwhile yer wan had herself wedged between the two front seats facin the back of the car. There was the three of them rowlin about in the back seat. By all account it was the wildest hanlin altogether with excuses and rippin and tearin’, punches throwin and a bit of that oul bitch slappin ye see in in womens’ football going on. By this stage it was bucketin’ rain and when the thing calmed down as much as it could the only way they could get home was to drive in the car together. Yer wan refused to sit in the car with the husband and the other yoke so she climbed back into the boot with all the gear from trainin’ then night before and it half rancid and her soakin from the rain.

Couple of nights later the two parishes were playin’ in the Feis Cup. Well if you think ye heard sledgin’ on the pitch there was nothin’ like the sledgin’ of it. Yer woman at this stage had roaded the husband who was managin’ the team. The scarlet woman was doing the medical bag for the other team - she was a great one for the bag altogether. Well the shite started and the ones up and down the line wouldn’t stop. The players were grand until one of them got tripped on the line by one oul doll for calling her sister a trollope. After he kicked out at her, the husband came in. Jaze - even the priest couldn’t stop them. The game was called off and there were sermons the next week about covetin’ the neighbours good and all that stuff but sure twas too late.

Course no matter what, yer wan wouldn’t let the husband in home to get his stuff for work - she busted a load of O’Neills footballs by stickin a vegetable knife in them, she cut holes in the front of the minor’s teams shorts - course them boys loved that, she phoned up the other wives and girlfriends and touted on the players that had been away on a stag party and some oul nightclub they’d been to cos she opened yer man’s credit card bill. All the fellas were in bad stir for months over the head of it. The paid-in manager had to leave cos she touted on him to the tax people and told all about the free petrol he was getting’ and how he wasn’t really workin’ for the boys down the road. She sent letters to Croke Park and the provincial council and god knows where.

Eventually she had enough and just disappeared one day. Last I heard she’d got a job workin’ as a Human Resources manager in one of the Universities - apparently the work suited her down to the ground. The husband - he kept on coachin’ in the club but attracted the nickname ‘hatchback’. The one he was ruttin’ with in the Toyota? She developed a hump in her back too - no-one knew if somethin’ seized the night the boyfriend’s wife came through the back seat at her or it was just her oul fella’s jeans kickin’ in. As one fella in the club said about her, ‘if ye seen her mother, ye’d a knew how she’d turn out.’

That was the start of it - them local matches were bad enough but they got a whole lot worse. The only way it stopped is when one team got relegated. Now they meet every couple of years in some oul Mickey Mouse thing and they bate the pure shite out of each other. And people come from miles around to watch it.

Man overboard

Justin the turkey, or jilted by turncoats? Well, as predicted in Talking Balls yesterday (Thursday), Deise hurling manager Justin jumped last night - or was pushed depending on which account of the putsch you read.

What is clear is that McCarthy’s position became untenable once the players said they were no longer prepared to play for him following their lengthy meeting on Wednesday night.

Among the issues cited by the Examiner’s Michael Moynihan were a failure to grant time off to Dan Shanahan; McCarthy’s failure to accede to players’ suggestions on their training jaunt to Portugal - allegedly he felt his methods did not need changed. Also peripheral players felt their opportunities were limited. One unnamed member of the panel is quoted as saying .

“All of this has been gathering momentum for a long time. In Portugal, we were asked to express in writing our views on all aspects of the set-up within the camp and many of the players availed of that opportunity to express their opposition to Justin McCarthy’s management.”

With Waterford facing into a qualifier in early July against likely opponents Antrim, it would appear there is no plan B on the table. For many of these players the widely held view was that they were drinking in the last chance saloon. It appears now that last orders has been called and they’re going to be sitting fairly high and dry.

The high stool beckons. . .

Will he or won’t he? Sink or swim time for Justin McCarthy

Rumours are doing the rounds today (Thursday) that the sharks are circling down Waterford way. Following seven years in charge, Justin McCarthy could be forced out with cries of ‘Mutiny!’ in the air after Wednesday night’s players’ meeting.

Following the pillagin’ they got from Clare on Sunday,  talk of dressing room disharmony involving Eoin Kelly, Big Dan’s cold shoulder to Justin when he was reeled in on Sunday, and now talk of mutiny in the camp - things are lookin bleak enough for the legendary coach, manager and all round hurling guru.

With many of Waterford’s panel getting no younger, this season was widely felt to be the last chance to lift Liam in the current era.

Will Justin be walking the line against Antrim on 5 July, or will he be forced to walk the plank?

Watch this space.