Cheers for your fatherās text. Most interesting. PK had a deadly penalty, even with the heavy ball. My father was born in 1945 and he would be the same on Kilkenny.
I accept your other point, by the way, and appreciate you saying it. I just feel, perhaps wrongly, accepting being hijacked by someone with nothing to say in a thousand different ways has gone too far. But I sincerely apologize to anyone offended. The invective was directed at one person and one person only, not at a condition. The reality, of course, is that bad money drives out good money.
I was cured of left hand on top though being right handed by breaking my left wrist playing Gaelic football at 10 or 11. I too stubborn to change before that. Five or six weeks of hurling one handed with my right sorted me out. I remember feeling lād lost power in my striking with the switch.
A buddy of mine was similar. Left handed and right eye dominant. He shot off his left shoulder with his fathers gun which had a savage cast in the stock for a right hander. His whole head was over the top of the stock to try and aim. He was a terrible shot as a result.
It fucks me up for golf as I have to get my left eye behind the ball and if Iām not careful i come off shots, did you ever see jack nicklaus cocking his head? I maintain he had to get his left eye behind the ball
Try a little harder to be respectful to others please. Times are strange recently and itās easy to be testy but for your own benefit donāt go in so hard on eachother. Itās not worth it.
I donāt think the two boys are doing any damage to each other. Itās the rest of us who are suffering these repetitive tedious exchanges. If they didnāt enjoy abusing each other theyād put one another on ignore.
Make no mistake, theyāre loving this shit.
Let me just lay out what happened for you again. I made a couple of perfectly reasonable posts about hurling and you couldnāt handle it at all and immediately went miles off the reservation like the lunatic you are.
You donāt get to control what other people say, even though, as an absolute control freak, you think you do.
Youāre whinging like a baby about what you think is āyourā thread being āhijackedā. The only person who hijacked it is yourself with your lunatic behaviour. Last night you were telling other posters to literally āfuck off and dieā.
Now youāre āapologising to anybody who is offendedā, a classic non-apology. That could come straight from the mouth of a Tory politician.
And like any classic control freak, your sense of victimhood is absolute.
You obviously fancy yourself as the one, the only āMr. Hurling", "Hurling Manā extraordinaire. Itās no wonder you hate @Sidney, who beautifully skewered you years ago. Itās no wonder you hate Eamonn Sweeney, who wrote about the same thing (ironically, if anybody should be angry at Sweeney itās @Sidney, given that Sweeney stole his āHurling Manā caricature pretty much wholesale).
But āHurling Manā is supposed to be a caricature, not real. And yet you really are that caricature, and then some. How does it feel to be a caricature?
Real hurling people, as opposed to entirely self-unaware caricatures, are open-minded and not utterly rigid in their closed mindedness like you are. Otherwise the style of the game in the 1950s or the 1970s, never mind the 2000s or 1990s, would never have happened. Real hurling people want the game to spread, to evolve, for ideas to evolve, for the game to not be exclusive. Real hurling people love the game and want others to enjoy it. But you, like a three year old child, imagine hurling as a personal toy is that is yours and only yours. And the gas thing is you donāt even understand how the toy works.
You are the hurling equivalent of those Republican āoriginalistā headcases in the US who believe the US constitution is some fixed, never-changing document in which it should always be 1788. People like you do more damage to hurling than anybody else. If you had your way the game would have died out decades ago, perhaps still existing only in isolated pockets of āpureā hurling country. ie. a 1950s rural fantasy land of your imagination in south Kilkenny, mid-Tipperary or north-east Cork āuntaintedā by any outside influences. You are to hurling what the Christian Brothers were to the Irish language or the British Army was to British rule in the North. Iād say youāve turned exponentially more people off the sport than you ever enticed to play or be interested it.