Squareball, gaa shop, gaa gear, gaa tshirts, clothing, merchandise.

This week in Talking Balls, with all the hype about beards, we sent Resident Expert Ger Manas out on the highways and byways of Tyrone. No, not in search of a ticket (by the way if you have any send them in), but on the hunt for the Bearded Men and Ladies of Tyrone.

I decided to see how things were up in East Tyrone round the Lough Shore. There’s fierce strong wind blows in off the Lough there and there’s hardy boys round Ardboe, Derrylaughan, Clonoe and Brockagh and the like, so there was plenty of stubble and whiskers on show to protect them from the ill winds that blow across the Lough from their neighbours.

Folks up there also have the added advantage of living close to Derry which every day gives them something to be thankful for. Reports are legion of supporters of the Oak Leaf from around the Loup, Ballinderry (there are a few Derry wans in Ballinderry) and Ballymaguigan wishing Tyrone all the best. One fella used to play for Derry sez to me: “What better way for Derry people to celebrate the fifteenth anniversary since we won Sam for our one and only time than for Tyrone to win it again and for the third time as well. That would be brilliant. The entire county will behind the Red Hands.”

Not to be left out, I ran into a few diehard Tyrone ladies who swore undying love for the boys. They said: “Ger these lads have made so many sacrifices for playing for Tyrone. We just hope on Sunday night they can relax and wet the beards for a while. It’s certainly whetting our appetite for Sunday.” Well said girls.

I remember talking to an oul fella called Tom Rodgers who hailed from Rouskey direction. Tom steered himself about with two walking sticks he was fit to handle as well as an of the Munster men and their hurleys. Sez he to me:

“‘N’dammit it’s as cold up there in them hills as the North Pole. There’s many’s the men and weemen would be glad of a beard of they could get one. When the drop of the good stuff doesn’t work ye have to do what you can to stay warm.”

Where else then for us to go then than Rouskey, up thonder beside the chapel. I met a stern cussed lookin’ hoor talking to a few cowz. It turned out he claimed to be a relative of Colm O’Rourke. He reckoned Brian Dooher was the man and had told Colm so at a wake or funeral some years back. It hadn’t gone down well at all and he doesn’t like bein’ toul he looks like O’Rourke. Can’t say I blame him.

Onwards we moved in the direction of Carrickmore. There’s many’s the republican in Carrickmore and they have a reputation for having deadly beards altogether. It goes back to the time when patriotic Irish men liked nothing better than to have a big beard to hide pikes and musket loaders in. As the mans says, never know when you might have to shove a loaded weapon into a beard.

I met another fella up there who declined to disclose his real identity but would only confirm that he was a distant relative of Colm ‘the Gooch’ Cooper. He had moved to Carmen years previously as an economic migrant seeking work, had got some casual labour working on the reconstruction of the Nally Stand in Pairc Colmcille and occasionally kicks balls himself. Not much craic tho’.

Down the road to Omagh I drove, past a farmer shearing a sheep, what else would he be at? We stopped and asked him had he not heard Tyrone were in the All Ireland and that all shaving, plucking and waxing was on hold until after Sunday. He says: “Sure don’t I know it. The nephew’s sellin’ false beards out of the back of a Hiace van and he’s run out of wool. The SOS came up this morning – Shear Our Sheep.”

I dislike Tyrone as much as the next man, but I can tell ye, the place is goin’ clean mad about this All Ireland Final!