Brian Dooher Dances with Goats
Talking Balls Comments
Ger Manas extols the virtues of the player who wins the breaking ball. Who better than a man who wrestles cows, chases horses, tames lions and tickles crocodiles’ toes – supervet Dooher does it for Ger as he takes a serious look at Tyrone and Donegal.
I always loved a player that could win breaking ball. The lower the percentage of coming out with the ball, the bigger the balls on the player I find. Ye always have some namby pamby boys on the field that flitter about round the edges and aren’t worth a shite but my man is the bottom feeder – he’s like an oul duck rootin about in the muck and the dirt, comin out with things he’s no right to find – this man is king in football.
As far as I’m concerned the daddy of them all is that fella Brian Dooher. If he was a duck he’d be a la king. I went up to Clones – now I normally wouldn’t be that fussed on Clones, the smell of them burgers drives me mad – takes me back to the oul sites in London – and the walk up that Hill does nothin for me hip either but Jaze I enjoyed myself last week. I was along with the son and his young fella – but them Donegal people at matches are great. They have the look about them that they never get out much and there aren’t as many arseholes at matches when Donegal are playing. They seem to be happy whether they’re winning or losing. There was a few young girls beside me now and the thing they were happiest about was your man Kevin Cassidy’s legs. When I looked he was like a f*** mule with those legs. He didn’t grow them standing leaning on a bar. Well this one young thing all she wanted was them sticking out of her bed. She looked like she meant it too – she reckoned more donkey than mule.
I was lookin forward to see Donegal put it up to the Tyrone boys. I thought now maybe they might depending on which Tyrone team turned up. Well sure ye all saw what happened. Mickey Harte is one ruthless boy – young McGinley called ashore after 13 minutes. I’d have had him out of there sooner but I suppose they knew maybe he’d relatives at the game. Big McMahon did a lot better on Big Colm McFadden although he reminds me of a few of the older school full backs that used to have a bit of an oul gut for extra leverage. If ye ever seen that film One Flew Over the Cuckold’s nest, McFaddon would remind ye of the big Indian. Big ponderous civil big f***er who gets on with things. He gets that big hole of his between himself and the goal and jaze he’s hard to shift.
It was shaping up as a right oul game, great weather for it too and we’d a dacent feed of sandwiches the wife had made. I couldn’t get over that fella Dooher. I thought he’d be finished after them operations and him running about after animals all weeks. I heard from another boy he was chasing goats about to get fit but that could be wrong. Did that once myself with a team in Mayo – one fella got a prolapsed arse where an oul Billy of a thing prodded him in the hole. Got the boys quare an fit – running up hills and leppin over streams. Beats paddlin about in a canoe like them Derry boys were at with Paddy Crozier. Be no f***in paddlin on Sunday in Casement Paddy sez I although it would have been handy last time if the game was played the first day.
Anyway yer man Dooher, whatever he be’s at, he’s winning ball he had no right to win pointing here, charging about there. He looks like one of the Indian’s yee seen on Dances with Wolves – all hook-nosed, straight backed with a fierce oul bit of pride in him. Many’s the bull he’s grabbed by the horns but yon’s as honest a performance as I saw. That young fella Mulgrew too shiftin round the place like a ghost – one time he gave one of the fancy disguised passes he gives and the Donegal man tackled him anyway. The goal was as good a goal as I seen. O’Neill’s hands were as fast as a teenagers in the back row of the pictures with his young wan. Big Durkan’s a big hoor too, so Mulgrew did well to get the ball in the goals. I dunno what Durkan was doing for the penalty, throwing the ball away and then standin lookin like a f***in gomb as yer man rolls it in. Knowing McIver I’d say he slapped a few arses at half time. If was the Donegal lad that was marking that Conor Gormley when he caught the ball under one arm I’d be embarrassed. Devenney I think it was. That man’s a great footballer but he needs less wind and piss and more make your mind up time. Is he gonna do the business or not – we all need to know. Tyrone look good but I’d say that could be Donegal’s load blown.
If any young cub’s is watching them Tyrone fellas – look at Dooher and O’Neill. First things O’Neill did and him not fit was nick a Donegal short free and set up a shot on goals. Dooher worked up and down the pitch, makin his own rules- hungry for the ball and knowing where to go get it. Hunger’s what made Napoleon’s boys go on the long march; it helped in the siege of Derry and it brings out the best in men. That Dooher fella, he can Dance with my Goats any day I’ll tell ye.
