To Bandon and the Hurling-at last.

Episode 3

A calm Saturday morning in Cork with a game against Bandon GAA in the afternoon. What would professional sportsmen do? A relaxing time is required. The lads went for a walk as far as the Wing Centre could see- so nothing controversial there.

As for himself the only other experience he needed was to go into the Auction House of Joseph Woodward & Sons Ltd on Cook Street which was pretty close to the centre of town and have a look round.

As a pastime going to an Auctioneers without any money is only slightly above tuning into a Zoom committee meeting and comparing the various versions of lockdown hair that the human cranium can create. However, at this auction - or indeed at any auction - I immediately began to regret that I had not taken Ali Mac (senior) along with me. Only he would have been able to tell me whether the table that I put my feet up on was worth more than my Clarks Nature Three Brown Leather Shoes or not. The guys in the Auction House evidently thought so- and it seemed that every chair I chose to sit in had been sold already and was about to be picked up and so I would have to move. This rule did not seem to affect many of the other clients, although one well-dressed fellow wearing a tweed cap seemed to get the same treatment. I suspect he was from Dublin. On the other hand, maybe he should have taken the cap off because he was indoors and in the presence of ladies.

Old Ali would have given me a bogus authority as I walked around. He actually knows about antiques – and he’s the only one I know who actually once won a genuine gold medal.

In Woodward’s, the silver stuff looked quite good and you could probably transport it back home in a club first aid kit. I was looking at a table of the stuff as if I meant business – and a fellow came alongside me and slipped anchor.

“Silver?” said I with a rising inflection which would imply a question even in Kiltarlity. This was Cork.

“Are you telling me?” said he. It’s a cultural thing thought I so I’ll join him.

“I am that,” said I.

“I knew already,” he replied.

I resolved to bid against him, beat the price up and then pull out leaving him with some overpriced rubbish to explain to his missus.

In the end when it did come to the bid – and I tried to do it-I was disqualified because I had forgotten about the fact I needed to register for a card.

Keeping my nerve, I announced “Just forgot to pick up the old card”- and walked to the entrance corridor towards the office counter and when everyone had turned back to concentrate on the bidding for the next lot then I slipped out into the street taking my confusion with me.

By the time the Wing Centre reached Jury’s Inn, Gene, with his young son who was a hurling goalkeeper - was waiting with the bus and the team quickly piled aboard. A quick journey out of the city through some green countryside and we quickly became aware of Bandon through the bus window on the far side of what must be a fine fishing river which Ali Mac (Senior) confessed he would like to have tried a net on. It was in fact the River Bandon and it is a fine salmon river so Ali Mac’s instincts were right.

We did not actually enter Bandon but pulled up at an excellent sporting complex named as we later learned “Charlie Hurley Park”. There we were warmly greeted by Club President Ian Doyle and one of his office bearers Neilus McCarthy and after a brief interlude to allow the Glen lads an opportunity to get changed, warm up and have a look at the pitch (huge-in comparison with a shinty park) the game got under way. Before it did however, former Glenner Stuart Reid who works as a fitness coach with the G.A.A. at the Bandon Club and one or two others took time out to explain the compromise rules to his Irish charges. Apart from Ronald Ross and Gary Reid, Stuart is probably the only man in the shinty world to fully understand these rules - and that includes referees Scottish and Irish who have ever reffed one of those fixtures.

It certainly didn’t look as if the Irish lads fully comprehended the rules because to the Wing Centre’s consternation - and this is sincerely and genuinely meant-the Glen began to run away with the contest completely overwhelming the hapless Bandon Club in the first half despite the fact that the Bandon guys were by far the better looking as a bunch of athletes.

Frostie Macpherson had a crazy afternoon. Benefiting from the large pitch and from the fact that the Irish players were inexperienced as to  how close they would really have to stand to him his ferocity and accuracy of shooting saw him rattle in six goals that were simply too quick for the Irish keeper to deal with - and although Bandon had some nice plays and showed good movement,  they contented themselves with picking up a few over the bar scores  from distance which should have counted for one point each (though as we shall see there was confusion over this).

When they stood close to Frostie he very cleverly fed his other front men so that before the break Oliver Black, Jed Stoddart, Eddie Tembo and Lewis Macdonald had also hit goals. That plus four other over the bar points (two from open play and a deadball) meant that we were out of sight. It was very hard to believe what we were seeing. It was not a particularly experienced Glen side - few apart from Conor Golabek, Jed Stoddart , Finlay Robertson , Cameron MacIntosh and Oliver Black- had any athletic energy to compare with the Irish lads but they didn’t need it. Get the ball up front and a goal was assured.

By the time the whistle blew the Glen had 34 points on the board.

The second half though was a different story as the Irish lads  began to get the hang of the game and they began to gradually peg us back  chipping the lead back until by the end of the game their claim was that they had won the game having 5 goals and 13 strikes over the bar. Trouble was that Mr Doyle and co had not been listening to Stuart Reid when he had explained the rules. As a result, they had given themselves two points for every hit over the bar.

Because they are such an efficient club they had the following Facebook post up and running before you could say “Charlie Hurley”.

Shinty hurling made its debut in Charlie Hurley park today & what a great afternoon it was on & off the pitch. Our visitors from Glen Urquhart Shinty Club started the game well & raced into the lead. It took our Bandon team a while to get used to the compromise rules but they rallied in the second half and ran out winners in the end. Those watching enjoyed the game & some of our young Camogie & hurling players had fun trying out the shinty sticks after the game. Refreshments were served in the Pavilion Bar after the match and presentations made. A most enjoyable evening.
Thank you to our own adopted Scot, Stuart Reid for organising the match with help from Neilus McCarthy & Paddy Cahalane. We wish our friends from Glen Urquhart a safe trip home tomorrow.

 

Indeed, it was only when El Presidente was being interviewed by the Bandon Club’s digital journalist guy Donnacha that the full horror of the situation came over him. What had been a tight 34-29 win for the Glen suddenly became a 41-34 defeat.

There was a quick consultation and lo-the Bandon score fell into step with reality and the Glen was on top as was only right.

However in the interests of international and inter Celtic harmony- and to be sure of getting a drink in the social club-the discussion between Chairman G and Mr Doyle concluded with the game being called a draw by reclassifying five single pointers as 5 double pointers.

An honourable draw having been declared we were allowed in for sandwiches and both teams mingled together freely in the “comradeship of a shared Celtic sport.”

Given that the club will never be back in Ireland again without going through passport controls and needing special health insurance- and probably a jab for yellow fever as well- the night in the Bandon clubhouse is a memory to cherish.

Garry handed over a shinty stick , a Glen strip , a bottle of Auchentoshan and made an excellent speech which was well received by our hosts who replied in similar vein and handed over a Bandon strip , a stick or two and one supposes some other stuff which the Wing Centre who took copious notes all the time cannot read in his journo pad because the pen ran out of ink.

Which means that for an account of the rest of the evening one will have to rely on the two old staples of journalism-imperfect memory and lively imagination. The folk in the club were lovely people - they were worried about the effects of Brexit. The Wing Centre comforted them with the thought that the Germans would look out for them. They weren’t keen on the North joining them in a united country.

Again, the Wing Centre comforted them by reminding the Germans had successfully managed it- and they had only been divided for about 25 years less than Ireland. A couple of whiskies and never had the Saxon DNA which courses through the Wing Centre’s veins ever been so fluent.

Did any of this happen? Who can say because there is nothing in the notebook and the night drove on ‘wi sangs and clatter’ but before it could get out of hand and we all headed off to an afterhours party in a remote farmhouse followed by a hoolie in the Ballroom of Romance at some equally remote crossroads, the President stepped in to restore sanity and we found ourselves back on Gene’s magic bus.

In no time at all we were back in Cork and Bandon had disappeared-probably never to return like Brigadoon until another 100 years had passed.

free website counter