The Field (Dublin, Part Two)

I woke up on Thursday giddy with anticipation. Thursday was the day I was going to Croke Park. I hadn't been to Croker since 1996 when I last attended a hurling match. Since then, Croke Park had undergone a major renovation to become the third largest sporting pitch in Europe. No small feat when you consider that only amateur sports are played at Croker.*

But first, I took a trip to the Garden of Remembrance. The Garden was opened in 1966 to the memory of those who gave their lives for Irish freedom. A sunken garden in the middle contains a water feature in the shape of a cross while at the far end, a statue depicts the fallen turning into swans (a reference to the Irish folklore Children of Lir).

Once you walk down the steps, the sounds around you disappear and it becomes very quiet. I walked along the water feature staring at the mosaic work within the feature. Thanks to google, I now know that the mosaic shows the Celtic tradition of breaking and throwing your weapons into a river at the end of a battle. (How did we ever learn things before the internet? Oh, right. Encyclopedias!)

Overall the Garden was lovely and I was happy that I made an effort to check it out. It's only a block beyond Upper O'Connell St and with four rows of benches at one end as well as along the water feature, it would make a wonderful place to stop for lunch away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

After a serious morning, I got giddy as I headed off to Croke Park. CROKER! CROKER! CROKER! I got so giddy, in fact, that I missed a street sign and ended up walking an extra 15 minutes to the park. I didn't care. CROKER! CROKER! CROKER!

What I failed to capture on camera was that after this picture, I fell

to my knees and started screaming "I'm not worthy!"

My dad brought three hurleys with him when he emigrated from Ireland. While the family used them to flick the fuses on the fuse box which was located by the ceiling, my dad also took us down to the lower field and showed us how to use the hurley to pick up the sliotar (that's the ball). I enjoyed hurling but it wasn't until my Uncle Frank took me to a game at Croke Park that I fell in love with hurling. I've seen three games live, all at Croke Park, and I loved each of them.

I've linked to this video before, but I think now is a good time to post it again because HURLING! CROKER! HURLING! CROKER! HURLING! CROKER!

(There's also a good three part longer introduction to the sport: Part One, Part Two, Part Three.)

I started with a trip through the GAA museum. The lower floor deals with how hurling and Gaelic football play into both the Irish identity and to the struggle for independence. For the Canadians reading this, the Irish view the games as an extension of their culture much the same way we view hockey. The second floor deals with players and members of note in the hurling/Gaelic football/GAA organisation as well as an area where you get to test your hurling and football skills. Sadly, as much as I wanted to try out out hard I could hit a sliotar, I had a guided tour of the stadium I had to attend.

Sigh, just another reason to go back ;)

We began our tour with a short video about the All-Ireland Finals in September. It may have caused me a few tears of pride... and a slight regret that I voluntarily chose to come to Ireland after the season was over. C'est la vie! Next time ;)

Our guide--a kind, knowledgeable lady from Kildare--started by taking us into the players lounge. Below is the main chandelier. Made from Waterford Crystal and containing 32 footballs and over a hundred sliotars ("because it just looked a little too bare with only 32 sliotars"), the colour of the lights can be changed to a combination of the colours of any of the 32 counties. After a game the colours are always the colours of the winning team.

From the players lounge, we moved to the locker rooms. As the All-Irelands are over, the four winning teams--hurling, camogie (women's hurling), men's football, and women's football--were hung on the wall while the remaining 28 counties were hung around the room roughly grouped together by their province.

For those who care, the four jerseys are (l-r):

Cork (Women's Football) (BOO! They beat Monaghan)

 Dublin (Men's Football)

Wexford (Camogie)

Kilkenny (Hurling)

But there was only one jersey I cared about seeing:

I don't care if Monaghan is crap, they'll always be my first county.

No seriously, the men have never made the finals for hurling or football as far as I know.

We're crap... but I love them.

We moved onto the warm up area. At this point, the sound system was put on to sound like a cheering crowd. The chanting, the drumming, the clapping: it was an actual recording of the crowd at a previous game and you could tell. To the sound of the crowds delight, we moved from the warm up area, down the hallway and walked out onto the grounds of Croker.

I would like to say that I totally played this cool, but I was so giddy I skipped a couple of times.

I'M WALKING OUT ONTO THE FIELD AT CROKE PARK!!

Join me in my chant: CROKER! CROKER! CROKER!

In Gaelic sports, you get 1 point for going above the crossbar and 3 for going under.

That's why you see scores such as 2-7 to 1-11. The '2' means 2 goals (same as the 1) and the

'7' is 7 points above the bar (same as the 11). The totals of these two fake teams would be 13 to 14.

Sam or Liam sit on a platform behind the flowers.

This is the view the president of Ireland gets for the All-Ireland Championships, the lucky sod!

Also, the field is mowed by two guys using push mowers!!

From the field we headed up into the stands where people of note get to sit, checked out a company box, and took in the vertigo inducing view from the press boxes, all while hearing about the history of the GAA, Croke Park, the games themselves and the new stands.

When the tour was done, I really wanted to go again. There was just so much to see and so many stories to hear, I could have done it twice more: once just to take notes and once just to take pictures... although, I would have liked that last tour to have been just me and the guide ;-)

Outside the entrance to the museum is a wall showing all the GAA approved teams in Ireland and beyond. Pretty much anywhere you find Irish immigrants, you'll find a GAA satellite organisation. As you can see from this picture, we even have a few in Canada. The season runs from June-ish to August so if you're in an area that has these sports, I suggest you check out a game next summer.
*While the Lansdowne Stadium (now Aviva Stadium) was under reconstruction, the GAA voted to allow rugby and soccer matches to be held at Croke Park. It was the first time in 120 years that non-amateur sports were played there.

Question: Do you have a sports-mecca that you have visited or someday hope to visit? (Please assure me I'm not alone in my love of a sports facility!)

And By the Way...

Did she mention my name? Did she mention my name just in passing?

I should really start playing a game on this blog called: Andrea references a quite-possibly-obscure-to-everyone-else song and you tell me who I'm singing.*

Anyway, in amongst all the whining bitching complaining crying frustration of the last blog, I forgot to mention my exciting news: I GOT MY PLANE TICKET BABY!!

Now it's not just official that I'm going to Ireland to visit the famdamily because I keep saying I'm going but because I actually have a ticket in my hot little hand (well, I have a booking confirmation which will turn into a ticket but you get the point).

That means it is 72 days until:

I wander around Dublin (although this time will be sans the ice cream but probably still with the latest copy of Four-Four-Two. Oh, and the overall shorts are loooooong gone, you'll be happy to know.)

I pop into Bewley's to laugh at their ridiculous outfits enjoy a cuppa after a day of walking around Dublin.

I arrive too late to catch the All Ireland Hurling or Gaelic Football Matches but that doesn't mean I won't be joining in the good natured ribbing of anyone who talks smack about 'my' teams. For the record, I am happy when any of the following teams win: Monaghan (ha! Good luck with that ever happening), Tipperary (my stepmom's family comes from there and her cousin-in-law was a hurler although he's been retired at least 10 years now and unlike my other teams, they actually win with some sense of regularity), Armagh (uncle lives there, it's where I spent most of my time when I  was not in Dublin on previous trips), or Galway (I lived and worked there when I was 19).

Story behind the picture. That's my dad and his friend, Alan, at Alan's Dublin home in 1996. My uncle (dad's brother-in-law) is from Wexford (the flag shown) so we were all pulling for them in the All Ireland Hurling Final but Alan is from Limerick. My stepmom had made a bet with Alan on the Limerick-Tipperary semi-final game and lost. When she demanded a chance to win it back, Alan was more than willing to make a bet with her on the final. He ended up making £10 bets with multiple members of our family. When Wexford won (1-13 to 0-14**) we took a little bit too much joy in going around Alan's place to collect our £60 worth of bets from him.

I visit possible locations for the Zombie Apocalypse.

I hang out with cousins, aunts, uncles, and possibly some sheep.

I cheat death on Monaghan's back roads. Seriously, I love my family but the whole country drives like it was supposed to be somewhere 20 minutes ago.

I make my family take me to tourist spots and then make them stand with me in the pictures.

My family and I get into the beer and start playing the "do you remember...?" game. Eventually someone will try and be funny and whip out the old "do I remember? Will I ever forget?" and we'll all have a good laugh before the story teller of that particular memory says "no, really, do you remember?". I can't wait to whip out the "do you remember when we all wore short-shorts and Barry McGuigan shirts?" If Alan wants to win back some of that £60 (however many € that would be now), I'm willing to bet they all remember but none of them will cop to it...

See you in September, Ireland!

*If people do want to play along, I'll answer this answer in the next post if no one gets it (which would mean my mom has stopped reading my blog). NO GOOGLING FOR ANSWERS!!

**Hurling is a sport that I love to watch (I've been to three games in Croke Park--all with my uncle Frank--and they were easily the best live sporting matches of my life) but I don't really follow because, well, hello, I live on the west coast of Canada. I say "I like hurling" and people respond "Curling?" We had two hurleys growing up and I used to take them to the lower field and practice flipping the sliotar up from the ground and then hitting it in midair. I've described hurling as 'field hockey played by rugby players' and an aunt calls it 'open warfare with a referee'. Both are pretty apt. If you don't believe me, I've linked to an instructional video. I may do a post about it in the future because it's an awesome sport. It's also played in some of the larger cities in North America with sizable Irish populations. I encourage you to try and catch a game to see what all the awesomeness is about.

EDIT: incorrect links in original posts. My bad!