Tag Archives: Irish people

All-Ireland Mayhem: God Help Us All.

For all but a few of you reading this post, the All-Ireland series means very little. But if you’re Irish, like your GAA, and your county winning the Sam Maguire Cup means more to you than life itself, then the All-Ireland is where it’s at this weekend.

It’s the Battle Royale: The Dubs versus the Kingdom; Dublin against Kerry. The Blues are searching for their first title since 1995, while Kerry are the reigning champions. (Stay awake at the back there, I’ll be asking questions later.) If the Capital City triumph this Sunday, then 16 years of hurt will disappear like cider down a football supporter’s gullet. If they lose, there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

You're not a Dub if you don't drink cider.

For me – and for the rest of my workmates – it will be a day that will go down in infamy. Throngs of supporters will convene at Croke Park and its surroundings like Muslims at Mecca. They will be excited, nervous, full of hopes and anticipation, and they will have throats drier than a camel’s arse in a sandstorm. Which is where we bartenders come in. For most of the morning, afternoon and evening (all bloody day actually) we will pump out enough booze to fill the Grand Canyon ten times over: these Dubs are a thirsty lot, let me tell you.

We will be busier than St. Peter on Judgement Day. We’ll be working flat out to ensure that no thirst goes unquenched because this is what we bartenders do. We will listen to the crap that drunks come out with when one too many has been consumed; we will mop up vomit that’s had the indecency to spew out at importune times; we will smile when we’re abused – because that’s what we bartenders do. We will take money and give out correct change, as well as making sure there’s plenty of ice and bandages, because accidents may happen.

We will open early and close late. We don’t expect to be thanked for our endeavours because we know the boss will look after us after he’s lodged the day’s takings with Brinks Allied.

The Girls in Blue

We will listen patiently to the hundred-and-first rendition of “Come On Ye Boys In Blue” and not complain when another glass is smashed against the wall. We will not laugh when security escort an unruly supporter off the premises (usually head first) and into a waiting police car. We will hope the judge goes easy on him the next morning. We will say prayers when we go to bed that night.

If we make it to bed, that is.

We look forward to doing an honest day’s trade when Dublin win the All-Ireland (which we hope they do). But we hope the supporters make life easy for us and not start any fights. Because we bartenders don’t like fights. We like the simple life. Here’s your pint, there’s your change, now fuck off and leave us alone.

Dublin for Sam!

Story, Bud!

Jacobs Fig RollsThere’s this new advert on Irish TV that features a group of actors dressed up as taste buds.They wait apprehensively for their “owner” to break into a packet of fig rolls. Once he does, they go into a kind of frenzy that can only be described as, well, drug-induced.

When you watch it, you’ll know what I mean. The taste buds speak in a hard Dublin accent, address each other as bud, and wax lyrically over “biscuity bits.” These guys have the munchies.

Methinks they smoke too much of the good stuff.

PS: I don’t like fig rolls much.

The Saturday Funny!

Laughter is the best medicine.

The Irish nation is known for its wit and gift of the gab. Having never kissed the Blarney Stone myself (doctor’s orders), I rely on others to say what needs to be said, in the only way they know how.

On the subject of Existence:

Will we ever know the answer to that age-old question ‘Why do philosophers exist?’ – Sinead Murphy. Irish Writer (b. 1959)

What is mind? No matter. What is matter? Never mind. – George Berkeley Philosopher (1685 – 1753)

On the subject of Ireland and The Irish

Why should Ireland be treated as a geographical fragment of England Ireland is not a geographical fragment, but a nation. Charles Stewart Parnell (1846 – 1891)

The Irish people do not gladly suffer common sense. Oliver St. John Gogarty. Poet and essayist (1878 – 1957)

You’ll never beat the Irish. Irish football supporters (after a 0-0 draw)

On the subject of The Law

I have never seen a situation so dismal that a policeman couldn’t make it worse. Brendan Behan, Playwright (1923 – 1964)

Law grinds the poor; and rich men rule the law. Oliver Goldsmith. Poet and Writer. (1728 – 1774)