Kimmage in the Indo. Bonus points for the dig at Joe.ie
Tommy Tiernan has never been mistaken for RenĂŠ Descartes or Friedrich Nietzsche, but there was a lot of wisdom in an interview he gave to Nadine OâRegan in The Sunday Business Post last week. Asked about the positive response to his latest show on Twitter, the 47-year-old comedian explained that he âtended not to follow that starâ.
âThereâs an inclination to think these days that Twitter is the all-seeing, all-knowing arbitrar. My social media is from people on the street,â he said.
Curious, OâRegan pressed a little more and noted Tiernanâs opinion that social media practitioners were a little too close to ducks for his liking.
âDucks?â she inquired.
Ducks," he replied. âIf you act independently, youâre striding and following the instinct of your body, and somewhere behind you there might be a gaggle of ducks that are quacking, but you donât turn around and follow the ducks.â Then he laughed. âIâm aware of the ducks but they donât own me.â
Confession: Iâve been distracted by the ducks of late.
started with a discussion on The Last Word about identity and the growing farce of international rugby these days. A French team with potentially two Fijian wings, a New-Zealand born prop, and a South African full-back. An England team that has featured a Fijian wing, a South African lock, a South African flanker and two New Zealand centres.
A Scotland team for the Six Nations with a South African prop and a South African flanker. An Ireland team that might feature three New Zealanders and two South Africans at the next World Cup. And an absurd notion that we should sit back and applaud this.
Not Luke Fitzgerald.
âI think itâs wrong,â he said. "Thatâs controversial and itâs no reflection on those guys. Theyâre doing everything within the rules. I want to see Irish guys in there. Are we not good enough to fill those spots? I donât know if being born in a different part of the world makes you a better player. If theyâre not making their international teams, why would we be taking them?
Is that an admission weâre not as good as good as them? Iâm sure it is. Would it affect me if there was a guy from another place getting picked ahead of me? Iâve been in that spot and it does piss you off. Youâve come all the way up through the systems and then all of a sudden some guy comes in and is perceived to be better because heâs from a different place and itâs, âLetâs get this guy in.â Itâs really disappointing. It really dilutes it. Whatâs the point? Itâs like Barbarians versus Barbarians, why do that?"
Iâm with Luke. Whatâs the point? Whatâs wrong with Irish kids playing for Ireland? Whatâs wrong with English kids playing for England? Whatâs wrong with a rule that says you can only choose one country? And I said as much on The Last Word. There should be no more flags of convenience.
My mistake was to mention CJ Stander.
Almost a year has passed since the genial South African made a brilliant debut for Ireland in the Six Nations opener against Wales and sent the ducks into meltdown. âCJ Stander belted out Amhran na bhFiann and it made Twitter proud to be Irish,â the SportsJoe website announced.
They even posted some of the quacks:
Shauna: âWatching CJ Stander singing the national anthem today is a bit emotional.â
Ger: âCJ singing out - best thing today. Go @CJStander stand up for Ireland.â
Ken: âCJ Stander belting out the anthem and some of the Leinster lads with not a word. Strange times.â
Ciaran: âCJ Stander is already a ledgebag!â
Susie: âAnyone who doesnât like the residency rule needs to watch @CJStander singing amhran na bhfiann to see what it means.â
Well, I donât like the residency rule. And I watched CJ singing. And I like and admire him as a rugby player. But tell me, Susie, what does it mean?
Almost 30 years ago, on September 6, 1987, five Irish cyclists rolled to the start of the World Professional Road Race Championships in Villach, Austria. Four were Dubliners, one was from Carrick-on-Suir and three have since published books. I blew the dust off their covers last week to examine what it meant to them.
SeĂĄn Kelly: "We always felt like we were racing against the odds at the World Championships. The Irish Cycling Federation was not a wealthy organisation. We didnât have a team manager or much back-up because the federation simply didnât have the resources, so we relied on support from our sponsored teams.
âA mechanic from Kas came to help us and Stephen (Roche) had a couple of people from his Carrera team. We had to get our own green jerseys made, which explains why they were often different shades. Our jerseys may not have matched but the spirit in the team was excellent.â
Stephen Roche: "Three hours in and I take off another jacket. The race is starting to open up. From time to time groups of riders break away but SeĂĄn, Paul (Kimmage), Martin (Earley), Alan (McCormack) and I arenât worrying because so far there have always been others prepared to bring them back. (Moreno) Argentinâs Italian team is 13-strong, while all of the major cycling powers including France, Holland, Belgium and Spain have teams of 12.
âMartin Earley and Paul Kimmage are also doing a good job of keeping the pack together, but itâs complicated trying to know when to commit resources from a five-man team thatâs vastly underpowered compared to many others.â
Paul Kimmage: "With 60 kilometres to go a four-man group which included two favourites, the Dutchman Teun van Vliet and reigning champion Moreno Argentin, went clear. The French took up the chase, aided by a quarter of the Irish team, Martin Earley, and the gap started to narrow. I sat near the front, waiting for a sign of weakness from Martin.
âThe four were retrieved and the attacks followed. Martin, exhausted from his chase, retired - he had done his work. I moved up on Kellyâs shoulder and told him I was available for short-range chasing. He nodded, and I set about closing down any serious break without a green jersey. As the bell rang, announcing the last lap, the decisive move went clear.â
Kelly: "On the final lap, everyone was nervous and tired. We knew that it might take just one well-timed attack to win the race. Argentin was glued to my back wheel. He would have got into my back pocket if he could. He was following me everywhere and I knew heâd react if I tried anything. I rolled alongside Stephen and we agreed to take turns following the attacks.
âWe hit the last climb with about three kilometres left and I was in a group of a dozen or so that was still together. Every time there had been an attack, a green jersey followed. Weâd played it perfectly, now we just had to see out the finish.â
Roche: "A couple more attempts are neutralised, then Van Vliet attacks and (Rolf) Golz takes off after him. A gap starts to open so I accelerate away from the back of the line, jump onto Golzâs wheel and we join up with Van Vliet. (Guido) Winterberg and (Rolf) Sorensen are quick to follow, making it five at the front.
âIâm expecting more riders to respond, but guess that everyone is waiting for Argentin to commit himself. Heâs the favourite, heâs the only rider from the raceâs strongest team and heâs defending the title. But the gap widens and I start wondering: âWhat am I going to do?ââ
Kimmage: âBehind, the race was over, and we all knew it. I tuned my ear to the PA system and tried to work out what was happening up front. I said a prayer that Kelly might win. With both of them up front they had a great chance. The logical tactic was for Stephen to hold it together to SeĂĄn for the sprint.â
Roche: "With about 500 metres left I took one last look behind and decided that Kellyâs group was not coming back in time and so I prepared for the attack. The remarkable thing was that there was still something in my legs and when I went I tried to use every available ounce of energy. I was turning a big gear when I attacked and just kept turning it.
âAfter about 300 metres I glanced under my arm and got the most beautiful surprise of my life. The others were well behind me and I was going to be world champion.â
Kelly: âAs Stephen crossed the line - the new world champion - I put my hands up to celebrate too. It wasnât a gesture for the cameras it was a genuine show of delight. Our little gang from Ireland had beaten the best in the world. It wasnât me that would pull on the rainbow jersey but it was still a magnificent feeling.â
Kimmage: "I strained my ears as we turned into the finishing straight. The PA announced the winner: âSteven Rooks, Champion de Monde.â There was a huge roar from the crowd. âDid he say Roche or Rooks?â I wasnât sure. Rooks, the Dutchman, was also in the break. âI think he said Rooks.â I didnât bother to sprint.
"It was seconds after crossing the line that I discovered the truth. I bumped into Irish journalist John Brennan as he scurried across for a few words from the new world champion.
âHeâs done it. The bastardâs done it.â
âWho?â
âRoche.â
âNo. Youâre joking.â
Roche: âAt the finish it was chaos. Because the victory was so unexpected I was overcome with joy. SeĂĄn, who finished fifth, was the first to congratulate me. I could see that he was genuinely delighted for me and that added to my victory. Martin and Paul were soon congratulating me too and there was a marvellous night ahead of us.â
Kimmage: "I made my way through the crowd to the pit area. Stephen had been whisked off for the medal ceremony, but our pit was still crowded. Kelly was giving his story to journalists, Martin was having the back patted off him by almost every Irish supporter on the circuit and there were scenes of great joy all around the pit.
âI too whacked him across the back and then threw my arms around Kelly and congratulated him on his fine performance. I really wished it could have been him on the winnerâs rostrum, but I suppose itâs the one title he is destined never to win. We pulled on some warm clothes and cycled back to the hotel, where it took some solid scrubbing under the shower to remove the grime and dirt from seven hours of racing from my legs.â
Kelly: âOur hotel was full of happy Irish supporters that night and they stayed up very late singing and knocking back the drink. I was exhausted but managed to stay up until about midnight when I left Stephen at the bar, wearing his rainbow jersey, a smile as wide as the Liffey on his face.â
Thatâs a long-winded way of explaining to all the ducks out there who have been giving me a hard time about CJ that I know what it means to play for Ireland. And it has nothing to do with anthems or flags. There wasnât one of us who knew the words of Amhran na bhFiann that day. Or remembered that it had even been played.