I went to a Hurling Match. It was AWESOME

Violence and running around and short shorts and very fast paced play and wow. I LOVE this game. Only wish I had known this when I was a young un. I'm a bit to old to enjoy getting twatted about the hands/shins by a slab of wood. The sun shone and it was a lovely day. Has been a pretty awesome weekend all round yesterday. One teeny rain shower, but that meant I was forced to stay in and unpack the box marked "photos". Found some from my Masters and our trip to Venice. I'd forgotten any had been taken! Good memories.

Live games are definitely better than tv. There was shouting. Encouragement of course! Though the odd moment of abuse might have slipped out. I blame it on the Hot Thermos of Coffee with a Wee Dram slipped into it.

In the lull, halfway through the second half, I had a terrible urge to yell "YOU'RE A W***ER NUMBER NINE". But I resisted it. Didn't think anyone but me would find it funny.

Oh, and Wexford lost. Of course. Ah well.

This coming week is St Paddy's Day. We get the day off! Currently feeling very Irish.