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Category: Sports

Another Year-Another Marathon

Another Year-Another Marathon

‘How can you tell if someone has run a marathon?….Don’t worry they’ll tell you.’ , is  a joke I enjoy and can shamefully admit to. How I got into marathon running, I cannot say. It always held a certain allure for me. Perhaps it’s the photo of my father crossing the finish line in the eighties, pain etched across his brow. Perhaps that penchant to suffer in training drew me to it as it did The Galway Cycle. Either way I’m now…

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In Solidarity With James McClean

In Solidarity With James McClean

One of my favourite things to teach at junior cycle English is World War One poetry. Siegfried Sassoon and the tragic Wilfred Owen, in particular, provide a raw and visceral insight into the grim reality of life in the trenches. The rage and anger they felt drips off the pages by the bucketload. The haunting imagery Owen confronts us with in Dulce et Decorum Est, has the tendency to leave our jaws on the floor. Onomatopoeia has scarcely ever been so disturbing. Phrases…

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The Privilege of Being in Jackie’s Army

The Privilege of Being in Jackie’s Army

Following the harrowing news over the weekend of good auld Jack’s demise, a deluge of memories of those heathy days have come swirling back to me. As they did for us all who were privy to those times, I’m sure. It shook me more than I’d anticipated. Italia ’90 was the first real time I discovered the magic of football. What a time to be alive. That match against Romania will always be the stand out one (for the occasion…

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Swooning for The Last Dance

Swooning for The Last Dance

I always had a small head. Having always been small, I guess it was proportionate. In the nineties, as I was entering my teens, this tiny noggin was nearly always adorned with a big, red, Chicago Bulls hat. This served to dwarf my features even further. Such was the fever created by Michael Jordan & Co., I was more than willing to ignore this difficulty for the sake of fashion, not for the last time either. Jordan fever had swept…

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Oh Sport, How I Miss Thee.

Oh Sport, How I Miss Thee.

                                                                ”Ruairí!! ….Don’t kick the furniture”, is not a sentence that my fiancée expected to ever have to say in our home, but such is the fervour that Liverpool F.C bring out in me, it was a sentence that had to be said all the same. Today is my…

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