Memorable hurling matches

[SoundMan]

I remember Paddy standing on the wall at the back of the city end, There was another great fan who had a book shop on shandon st,

Yeah I remember him too. Big heavy guy with glasses - I think it might have him that tried to get the huge teddybear into Thurles.
Some of the books he had on sale still had the Cork City Library stamp on them. Think he lived over in Ballinlough near St Anthony's school.

There used be a tall thin guy from somewhere in West Cork that unusually used go to all the hurling (rather than football) matches at the time. Wore a baseball cap if memory serves. There were a quite a few of us regulars of The City End. Used to regularly meet a guy from Limerick too who used go to the Cork games. He was originally from somewhere in England and his local soccer team played in red so he chose Cork rather than Limerick to follow

Anyone remember going down the park to queue for tickets for Cork Tipp (game in Killarney). I remember getting down there at about 9:30AM and the tickets didn't go on sale until about 4 in the afternoon. And we weren't top of the queue either. I remember Frank Murphy with a loud-hailer standing high at the parapet on the Blackrock End speaking to the crowd at about 3:30 "There will be no Stand Tickets on Sale" - some of the middle aged men at the time were raging having queued for many hours only to be told late in the day that no Stand tickets were available. I remember seeing very respectable looking gents shouting up at Frank Murphy "Jump you bollix. Jump"

 

[jimmym]

My parents had a friend from co armagh, My dad brought him to the 84 munster final, He spoke about the occasion for years after,

 

[Lee Bushwacker]

Anyone remember Roachy? Huge Cork fan who was a steet cleaner for Cork Corporation.

 

[hurley68]

1997 Cork v Tipp u21 Last minute goal by Timmy Mac sent us on out way.

Met Timmy lately collecting for Castlelyons club and we spoke about it.
A lovely bloke.

 

[jimmym]

Anyone remember Roachy? Huge Cork fan who was a steet cleaner for Cork Corporation.

Bomber Roche?

 

[SoundMan]

Anyone remember Roachy? Huge Cork fan who was a steet cleaner for Cork Corporation.

With rapidly failing eyesight?

 

[Matlock]

Yes Matlock. Apparently that is what an elderly woman was overhead saying on passing his remains at his removal. Lynch’s graveside oration is spine-tinglingly beautiful and sad. I think it is on YouTube somewhere if the mood takes you.

He aimed at the impossible
each Sunday on the pitch;
sometimes he succeeded.

Down on one knee,
trapped in a corner of the field,
when his prechristian electronic eye
lit up in combat,
and the ball, a missle,
sped from him straight above the bar,
the air shook in awe.

When a driving lunge
brought him clear beyond
the ruck of men,
and the ball, propelled,
self-destructed in the net
to smithereens of light,
our cheering became a battle cry.

In one moment of raw frenzy
as his playing days ran out,
he summoned Cú Chulainn
to aid him on the pitch:
his trunk swelled up
in sight of thousands,
one eye bulged
and danced, demented,
through clash and crash
hue and cry
men were toppled
hot blood spurted
and as he rammed in
three lethal goals
all the gods of ancient Ireland
lent his hurley a guiding hand.
Looking at his corpse laid out,
the day of his untimely death,
a woman said:
“It would be a sin to bury such a
man.”

I have not managed yet to bury
Christy Ring.
Sometimes I imagine him
being venerated
in the care of the great god, Aengus,
on a slab at Newgrange
and at each winter solstice
for just one half an hour
a ray of sunshine
lighting up his countenance.

But no friend of his could think
of laying Christy Ring eternally to
rest locked in with ancient miracles -
for oh the miracles of the living flesh
we saw when his countenance lit up
winter days and summer days,
Sundays in and Sundays out,
on the playing pitch.

- Sean Ó Tuama

 

[The Duke]

He aimed at the impossible
each Sunday on the pitch;
sometimes he succeeded.

Down on one knee,
trapped in a corner of the field,
when his prechristian electronic eye
lit up in combat,
and the ball, a missle,
sped from him straight above the bar,
the air shook in awe.

When a driving lunge
brought him clear beyond
the ruck of men,
and the ball, propelled,
self-destructed in the net
to smithereens of light,
our cheering became a battle cry.

In one moment of raw frenzy
as his playing days ran out,
he summoned Cú Chulainn
to aid him on the pitch:
his trunk swelled up
in sight of thousands,
one eye bulged
and danced, demented,
through clash and crash
hue and cry
men were toppled
hot blood spurted
and as he rammed in
three lethal goals
all the gods of ancient Ireland
lent his hurley a guiding hand.
Looking at his corpse laid out,
the day of his untimely death,
a woman said:
“It would be a sin to bury such a
man.”

I have not managed yet to bury
Christy Ring.
Sometimes I imagine him
being venerated
in the care of the great god, Aengus,
on a slab at Newgrange
and at each winter solstice
for just one half an hour
a ray of sunshine
lighting up his countenance.

But no friend of his could think
of laying Christy Ring eternally to
rest locked in with ancient miracles -
for oh the miracles of the living flesh
we saw when his countenance lit up
winter days and summer days,
Sundays in and Sundays out,
on the playing pitch.

- Sean Ó Tuama

Thanks for sharing. I’ve not heard of that poem before. I consider myself a bit of a Ring’ophile …every day is a school day I guess..

 

[Matlock]

Thanks for sharing. I’ve not heard of that poem before. I consider myself a bit of a Ring’ophile …every day is a school day I guess..

No bother. Tis fairly niche!

Sean was a Cork poet, and Dean of Irish in UCC. He hurled with Ring for the Glen iirc.

 

[The Duke]

No bother. Tis fairly niche!

Sean was a Cork poet, and Dean of Irish in UCC. He hurled with Ring for the Glen iirc.

Sound. Just read Sean O Tuama’s bio. A visiting professor in Harvard and Oxford also no less! Still, pales in comparison being able to say you hurled with the maestro.