2023 All Ireland Hurling Championship

Would EOD do a job at 6? Conor Burke isn’t at the level required, neither is Grogan.

Oh yeah, just throw the ball in front of Tony Kelly, that seems like a good idea.

Long time since I’ve seen a team as wide open as Dublin

Blow up ref. End this misery.

This is a new low for the split season

Once we get rid of the Joe McDonagh teams, maybe we scrap the 3rd Leinster team too.

Dublin need Davy Fitz.

Maybe have 4 Munster teams.

1 Like

He’s the only man who can save them. MOD is a nice man, and nice men are not what you need to handle them fellas

2 Likes

Good finish tbf. Crummey’s done alright on Hogan tbf.

Grogan has had an absolute nightmare here.

How did Wexford not finish ahead of this crowd

1 Like

Wexford lacked BDE

From Irish Examiner:

By Larry Ryan:
How could anyone hate Tipperary?

IMG_4123

Isn’t it incredible, really, how well-adjusted Tipp people are considering everything?

All over the world, our leaders and legislators are mulling over what to do about hate speech. But these efforts to protect the vulnerable have probably come too late for Tipp. Hatred of Tipp is gone too deep. It may even be enshrined somewhere as a human right.

A few years back Galway’s David Collins was a small bit shy about voicing this condition that most of the hurling world, at least, freely embrace. “We have to take it that we nearly hate Tipperary,” he declared, ahead of one Galway-Tipp fixture.

I’m not sure Galway could ever be considered nearly men, in this area, given the work of Collins’ forefathers of the late 1980s. But the passionate declarations of his former teammate James Skehill this week on Off The Ball’s The Hurling Pod clarified things. “Jaysus, I hate Tipp. I hate them, I don’t know what it is. It’s an insatiable hatred. We have to win this game by any means possible.”

His colleague, producer Michael McCarthy, was swift to normalise this point of view, and to remind us that it isn’t a new normal either, rather a very old normal.

“We’ve fallen far as a society if this is a problem. If you don’t hate Tipp, you’re either from Tipp or not a hurling fan. The Tipperary people I know wouldn’t have it any other way.”

In his book, Jackie Tyrrell went a touch further by defining abnormality as having any time for Tipp. “If you hurled for Kilkenny and you didn’t hate Tipperary, there was nearly something wrong with you.”

And in certain counties, it might be contested as zealously as an All-Ireland medal, this accolade of who hates Tipp most.

It’s not clear when exactly the Tipperary people were canvassed on this matter, whether a referendum was ever held, in north or south riding, on our happiness to be societal figures of hate. Though when we did languish surprisingly behind the likes of Dublin, Kilkenny and Kerry in a survey of the most disliked GAA counties last year, the Tipperary Star admittedly took unusual pride in a podium finish: “REVEALED: Tipperary features high in list of most disliked GAA counties.”

But whether we like it or not, we are well attuned to these vibes by now. And have to take it into account before every fixture of note, how much extra fuel is in the other crowd’s tank on account of hatred. As Bubbles put it, matter-of-factly, on GAAGO punditry duty before Waterford v Tipp: “Davy hates Tipp so…”

Credit to Tubridy for the bit of distraction, but it had threatened to become the theme of the week, this revulsion for the blue and gold. Dalo, on the podcast, told of his visit to a Tulloughmore bar where a sparkling water was ordered. The reply was unceremonious: “I don’t mind what water ye drink once ye don’t drink that Tipperary stuff.”

Ken Hogan recalled the day, in the early 90s, when Babs Keating pulled together a Tipp team of stars for a charity match in Loughrea to help Galway great Iggy Clarke pay for the cathedral. Fox and co bolted direct from club matches all over Tipp, still in their togs, to make the Sunday evening throw-in, only to run a gauntlet of hate and boos onto the field. Iggy was swift to offer his apologies in the dressing room afterwards, but as Ken acknowledged, “we were used to that kind of carry-on.”

Isn’t it incredible, really, how well-adjusted Tipp people are considering everything? With all this insatiable hate, and the lack of coastal access, we could easily lapse into self-loathing. Actually, it did infect Ryan O’Dwyer for a while, when he transferred to Dublin. “For a long time when we were playing Tipp I was thinking ‘I hate Tipp, I hate Tipp, I hate Tipp’. That’s what I was telling myself even though if they were playing after I was shouting for them.”

And yet, despite all these efforts to browbeat us back inside our generous borders, there has always been a rich culture of missionary work in Tipperary. There is hardly a boreen that didn’t make some contribution to the efforts in Africa back in the day. And Tipp hurling men reach out in greater numbers than ever to spread the gospel, to offer their services, to see where they can tidy things up around the country.

Even the less wristy among us tend to venture out to places like Cork to see if there is anything at all we can help out with.

So how is it that this mild-mannered, helpful, glamourous, modest people are the subjects of such ire, besides a natural envy of your classier neighbours? As James Skehill admits, “I don’t know what it is.”

As usual, we will do our level best to help. There are differing theories. Our economic prudence is cited. You wouldn’t need to be wearing a tinfoil hat to notice the accusation that we tend to bring our own sandwiches, and have them on the bonnet of a car faced for home.

There has been disquiet about our unofficial road signs, denoting hurling’s birthplace. Thomas Davis cops some blame for the Premier tag, amid accusations of arrogance. Despite the vast musical contributions we have made to society, from the Clancys to Gemma Hayes, it is impossible to detect much affection out there for our melodic signature anthem: Tipp Tipp Tipp Tipp.

In the case of Clare, grave grievance was taken at an ability to enjoy ourselves, at a man smiling during a match.
And this week I met a former Cork hurling star who felt he had got to the bottom of things following the demolition of Offaly. He contrasted the hunger for the fifth, sixth and seventh goals with what the likes of Ray Cummins might have done, in such circumstances.

“That’s why everyone hates Tipp,” he figured, objecting strongly to our natural respect for the game, and the opposition, and the paying punter, for adhering to what John Giles always preaches about playing the game on its merits.

I’ll never truly understand it.

She’d ate hay

1 Like

Jaysus, Quilligan won’t be far off an All Star this year

Great second stop from Quilligan, back to his feet quickly.

There was a couple of posters on here trying to tell me hurling was going well in Dublin

2 Likes

He’d look for a need and lengthy contract

Healy walking on the dub fellas hurl there for the yellow card if I’m not mistaken