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In the course of our travels recently, Talking Balls had the pleasure of visiting Cavan. The purpose of our visit was to test out the common misperception that Cavan people commonly retain their first communion money until they reach their dotage, but more importantly to take in the sights and sounds of Breffni on a Championship Saturday evening as the men of Cavan attempted to beat Fermanagh.

The trip to Cavan was, we thought uneventful, however it transpired on the way home on a bad oul road out past Shercock, the Talking Balls sponsored VW Camper van sprung a leak in its petrol tank. Although equipped with several such tanks as a result of its former utilization as a means of moving fuel back and forth between the jurisdictions north and south, (only one tank is used these days we might add), it was rendered useless by a big hoor of a Cavan pothole that shivered the VW Camper to its very core.

Being in the arse-end of nowhere, your intrepid correspondent had no option but to deploy the shoe fada mór in search of help. After a wearisome trek we came upon a brightly lit cabin. Outside flew an immaculate trio of flags – the blue and white of Breffni, the GAA’s 125 pennant and a flag of the Japanese motorbike manufacturer Honda. A strange combination.

On hammering at the door we were confronted by an oul boy of indeterminate age, wearing that Cavan uniform of a farmers cap, worn suit jacket and tie. It would be impossible to relate the conversation that ensued such was the thickness of accent. The story however was worth the telling. Our man, from Cavan of course, had been deployed in Japan in the fifties as an engineer in Honda’s new top secret factory. He has previously worked as a migrant worker in a motorcycle works in the north of England but had been talented spotted by a Mr Itchifani and taken to Japan. The one thing tying him to home was his love of Cavan and Gaelic Football, but Japan was a distant destination from Breffni and the Blues.

In 1957, he learned of Cavan’s All Ireland success when an overland telegram reached him at the secret Honda works. To make a long story short, in celebration of the success, and to wile away the loneliness he set about making a one-off motorcycle to mark Cavan’s fifth All Ireland. Built and machined to highest spec he crafted a unique specimen. A beautifully constructed machine, inspired by Ireland, its culture and its games. Occasionally when he took it on the roads it misfired and needed fine-tuned. Often people asked for payment to ride upon it, but our man remained the one and only true pilot.

Eventually, when Honda decided to expand overseas the Cavan engineer agreed to be relocated too. But only on the condition he could ride his beloved wherever he was required to go, spreading its appeal as he rode hither and thither.

Finally after traversing diverse locations, Dubai, Boston, Chicago, Copenhagen, Ruislip, Singapore, Fintona, he ended up, back in Cavan.

The GAA 125, home at last.

Some looper wrote a book called Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus. It gives succour to the view that women are the gentler of the species and men the mucksavages. Obviously the good scribe has never attended a junior camogie match or a ladies football match.

Talking Balls rarely ventures out these days for people keep asking where we stand on pay for play, what sort of a fella is Paul Galvin and who will win Sam. The answer to all three questions is ‘we don’t know’. Last week we attended a local hostelry with an Antrim man who got tanked up the night before the match rather than the night after the match. A masochistic type, he believes that it’s better to get as much pain on board at one time when watching the Saffrons hence the hangover.

We got to talking and the chat came around to what would aliens think of a GAA match if they landed at the back of the Cusack stand in the bus park there, and ventured in for a look. Would they retreat frightened at the proliferation of ruddy faces, reddened from a week’s good weather and work in the bog; would they enjoy the stench of hotdogs, the reek of spilt beer and the whiff of ammonia from the Croker washrooms? Or would they sidle up to an empty seat on the Terrace, pull in their antennae because an over aggressive fan shouted ‘Sit down you green bastard I can’t see’, and settle to enjoy the game.

What would they make of thirty earthlings on what appeared to be a battlefield, each with a weapon that looked a little like a club and a little like a gun, each restraining from hitting each other most of the time, but happy to club what look like a small resident of the planet Zlittttter round the greensward. Back on their planet, do they have large patches of greenery or is this a location for expectant females of the species to clock, waiting for a new alien to emerge. And what of the strange eye bulging exhortations of the earthlings round them, speaking the language in a strangled roar, occasionally lepping out of a seat to implore the great god called ref to sort things out?

God only knows. The strange things about it is that if a posse of Space Invaders did descend on Croke Park, no-one would pay much attention.

They’d be too busy watching the game.

Tales are emerging form Brazil that Edson Arantes de Nascimento, better known to most of us as Pele, may have derived his famous name from where other than the influence of an Irish Christian Brother from Kerry.

Pele was born in Três Corações, Brazil, the son of a Fluminense footballer Dondinho. His initial nickname was Dico. Thankfully that didn’t stick. Just doesn’t have the same ring about it, does it? Carlos Alberto, to Gerson, to Jairzinho. Goooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaalllllll. A Dico header.

Brother Ambrosius O Se from Kerry was stationed in the Mission in Três Corações. A keen scholar of Irish and naturally a follower of gaelic football, he was fascinated with the skill levels of the local Brazilian youth. One such player was the boy wonder Edson. He approached Br Ambrosius one day and asked him could he play with the ball that the good Christian Brother was kicking nonchalantly against the wall of the school and catching as it flew back to him.

‘Futebol’, shouted the young Edson.

‘Peile’ replied Br Ambrosius.

‘Futebol’, shouted the young Edson again.

‘Peile’ again replied Br Ambrosius in great humour altogether. This went on.

A passing group of the village’s young girls giggling, pointed at Edson and hearing what they thought was his new nickname shouted repeatedly at him “Peile, Peile, Peile.’

From there the name Peile stuck. Edson was happy he was no longer called Dico, of course he was, and he has made his name as the greatest foreign games player ever. It was eventually shortened to the more familiar Pele.

Br Ambrosius? He was last seen coaching sailing up the Amazon on a Steamboat, smoking a large cigar and sipping a Caipirinha. His fame made as the man who named Pele, however accidentally. He is the toast of Brazilians who wax lyrical whenever his name is mentioned.

Some of you Talking Balls readers out there may be too young to remember the excitement round Italia 90. Certainly Talking Balls is.

So we cast our net far and wide to get the expert view of a few oul codgers that remember the good old days.

“Ireland played England in the first game. It was in Cagliari I think. We’d bate the hoors in Euro ‘88 when Ray Houghton stuck the ball in the England net big time. We were robbed that year against the Dootch as big Jack used to call them, we should have got through.”

“Against the English they went a goal up but Kevin Sheedy stuck the ball in the English big time. Twas f***in magic. Pity we couldn’ bate them tho’.”

“I was at the game against Romania at the Sampdoria ground. Dave O’Leary and Big Jack hated each other but by jaysus it was some job when O’Leary kicked thon penalty into the goal. He was still as annoyin’ as ever afterwards but by Jaysus we had some session over there in Genoa.”

“I remember that we baldy twat Schillaci did the damage in Rome. The Irish boys had been up to see the pope and all that jazz. I remember Baggio was in his prime – the divine ponytail. He was one of the best players I ever seen.”

“I remember sittin’ up thonder in St Peter’s square batin the bejasus out of me Bodhran. We were singing Ole Ole Ole Ole and there were three of the Horslips there buskin’ Dearg Doom full blast. There were nuns buckleppin’ to the music, fellas sinking pints of stout that were bein’ lorried across by a big lad from Carrick on Shannon out of the Irish pub across the road. There was a bishop from Kerry, Jaze he could hardly stand he was that langered. He declared himself chaplain to the Irish football supporters no less. He certainly enjoyed the spiritual side of things.”

“The VW Camper van was parked round the corner from the Vatican, ready to round up the boys and head home. Two fellas from Cork were puckin’ a sliotar back and forth across the Square until the Swiss Guards came over and asked them to move on. The Cork men sat down and went on strike and wouldn’t move.”

If you have a tale to tell about Italia 90, let us know. Otherwise, get yourself the tee-shirt.

The current economic situation has led many athletes to pull in their horn spending-wise. We’ve seen this week the Government say, basically that you can’t take the knickers off a bare ass, that they haven’t enough money to buy their round, so the GPA and the rest of us can swing for it.

Nowadays you have shady characters in limos pulling up at county training sessions dishin’ out free boots and free gear; you have free bets if you’re in the Derry squad, the fill of a tank of oil if you’re from Armagh, free burgers from Supermacs from Galway and if you’re a Cork hurler a free O2 phone that no-one rings you on because you’ve no friends anymore.

We’ve cast our mind back to the good ole days, when fellas couldn’t afford new gloves and boots for every other game. When no-one had heard of swapping jerseys in them days, unless you nicked one from the other team’s bag when no-one was looking. Back then, any player worth his salt relaxed before a big game by getting his leather all lubed up and loosened with a liberal application of Dubbin.

The general aroma in the changing room was bad enough with wintergreen, farts, smelly socks, BO – no showers at home in the them days, just the yearly bath whether you needed it or not – and Dubbin. You knew the fella that was rubbin his leather before the game by the smell off his bag. It kept things nice and supple and allowed for a much better touch and sensation.

The well organized player maybe had the wife or girlfriend to do the needful the night before the game, although many experts reckoned for the best performance the job was best done a day or two in advance.

Anyway, here’s to the good old days, a slice of orange at half time, odd socks, headbands, a fry for breakfast and steak and chips for the pre-match meal. That, and a liberal application of Dubbin’ before every game.

Paul Brady will be available for Cavan’s Ulster SFC semi-final against either Donegal or Antrim after returning from his latest handball success in California.

Brady confirmed his number one status on the world handball stage when he defeated legendary American player David Chapman on Friday night to claim his fifth consecutive US Men’s Open title. The Mullahoran man will return to the US for the World Championships in October but, in the meantime, will be concentrating all his efforts on football.

“I’m finished with handball until the World Championships in October, so I will be able to concentrate fully on football with Mullahoran and whatever Cavan are involved in,” said Brady, who had trained with Tommy Carr’s squad before he flew out to the US Nationals.

He’s also great at singing and is well known for his renditions of the Island, the Homes of Donegal (not be needing that on Saturday week) and Crazy Dreams.

Damien Cassidy has criticised RTE Sunday Game presenter Pat Spillane over his comments in the wake of the Oak Leafers hotly contested encounter against Monaghan at Celtic Park.

Cassidy slammed: “A lot of it was bar-stool talk. You would expect someone with the level of knowledge he has of the game, apparently, and the level that he has played at, to have a bit more in-depth analysis to what’s occurring.

“Very seldom do you see him actually describing what a team is trying to do, how they are playing offensively, or how they are setting themselves up defensively. I just wonder at times what he is actually watching. You can’t take away his playing record, but he certainly has a limited view on the tactical aspect of the game.”

And Cassidy is also giving his firm backing to Doherty, whom he believes has been unfairly treated.

He said: “I have watched the video tape of the match a number of times. The amount of provocation that was put his way by the player who was playing against him was insidious and it was constant throughout the match.

“I don’t know how the officials that were there missed some of the things that were going on off the ball that I have witnessed on the video. He took sustained abuse throughout that game. And if people sit down to watch it and have the benefit of the different angles that I have of it now, they would understand what I am saying.”

Sully - he may be gone, but could Setanta be coming back?

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We hear the usual buzzwords round county squads at this time of year, healthy competition for places, high intensity training, good team spirit – the usual guff. We look forward to hearing the chat from the Derry squad after James Kielt had his jaw busted in a club match, allegedly by a county teammate from the Ballinderry Shamrocks club. Aside from the fact it rules Kielt out of the match against Tyrone, it raises a few questions about the mentality of some club players and indeed the camaraderie in the Derry squad.

We went down to the Derry press evening the other night to check it out but the alleged offender wasn’t present to answer any questions.

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Kerry’s prodigal son Tadgh Kenneally has revealed that he hankers after a return to Aussies Rules and him only back a couple of days. Sez Kenneally “I am focused on my goal of playing with Kerry, [I will] do everything I can to do that successfully, but in the back of my mind there is an opportunity to go back and play (in Sydney) for a couple of years.”

Meanwhile Setanta (the one and only) has revealed he has hankerings in the other direction saying that he wishes to come back and player for Cork hurlers again, particularly since Aisake has joined Sean Óg as a fully fledged Rebel.

Now talking of Setanta, there’s a fella that really knows the meaning of camaraderie within a squad, having hit the headlines as well as a teammate in a well publicized in-house match earlier in the season. Which brings us neatly back to James Kielt and his jaw.

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Which brings us to that other Setanta, the television station, which has got its knickers in a twist for over extending itself, primarily by targeting the English soccer watching public as a key market. Setanta of course rose to fame having begin life showing football and hurling matches in bars to the Irish diaspora.

Talking Balls has memories of standing in desultory Irish bars in London, drinking flat warm beer and terrible Guinness watching matches on Setanta with a posse of McAlpine Fusilier-type fellas. Sadly it now seems to be going from boom to bust with an unrealistic subscription target a real problem. It will be a serious loss from the Talking Balls flatscreen if it does bite the dust. By the way, speaking of exPats, did you hear the one about the Irish Boomerang? It goes away and talks about coming back.

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Talking Balls found the experience of watching Dublin and Meath last Sunday so bad that we snapped our excruciate ligament. The pain was akin, we would imagine, to having delicate parts of your anatomy slowly squeezed by Ricey till they pop. Imagine our relief then, that we survived further trauma, when it emerged that Sligo referee Marty Duffy played a minute and a half short injury time at the end of the game. Although equipped with two watches, one of them stopped.

According to National Referees Committee chairman Mick Curley the situation would encourage him to consider taking time keeping out of the hands of the referee. How that would scale up across the entire GAA in club matches would be interesting.

The country is littered with anecdotes of referees who, for reasons of personal security, and the thought of being locked in the boot of their own car, will play on that few extra moments, until the home team gets the vital score to level or win the game. Before the last peep of the whistle has sounded the ref will already be in the driver seat and away to feck up the road to safety.

As one experienced whistler put it, ‘I’s so fast off the pitch, when I turn off the light at night, I’s in bed before I get dark.’

[Ed's note: The grammatical structure, used heretofore in parts of the foregoing section, will be familiar, suffice it to say, to regular readers of Mickey Harte's column].

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Ireland's Got Talent

Last year Deirdre Fitzpatrick from Limerick received the unanimous vote in the Talking Balls office for being the best lookin’ captain at the launch, but this year DeeFitz has some serious competition. So, we’re offering a free Squareball t-shirt to the first six captains to get in touch. Any more and we’ll give them a discount.

This year the camogie Senior Championship has eight teams with Clare joining the likes of Cork, Tipp and Wexford. Quite a step up for Clare from Junior to Senior. Derry, 2007 Junior champions still compete at Intermediate whilst Antrim’s hopes of a Junior have been badly hit by Jane Adams knee injury.

Sponsor Gala has introduced an award for the Senior Camogie player who delivers the most outstanding performance of the season, as voted for by the public – the Gala Performance Award. The player will win the Gala Performance Award trophy and a 5* luxury weekend break. No doubt the winning player will smuggle all her teammates into the luxury room. We expect no less.

Hopefully under their new leader Joan Flynn the camogie people will get a high profile and there’s signs that it will. Talking Balls hopes that this year’s All Stars will be a bit more salubrious than last time, when the players received no free gear despite O’Neills being a sponsor. A number of players, especially first time nominees felt a bit underwhelmed. Sort it out lads.

Speaking at the launch the other day, Joan Flynn, revealed that RTÉ will be broadcasting some of the senior games and coverage will be included in The Sunday Game. So long as Tony Davis isn’t one of the experts things will be grand.

Joan also said: “Our relationship with the GAA is also crucial. This year we look forward to staging a number of our championship games in county grounds around the country and, of course, to All Ireland finals day here on 13 September in Croke Park.”