Slice of the Cake

With the news that the GPA can now go to the end-of-year ball without sneaking in, the penny is starting to drop for many recession-hit families across the country. Now I don’t really follow GAA politics nor does it affect me in my every day volunteering at the clubs who plead for my advice and input. I couldn’t care less if Paddy Cunningham or Karl Lacey are earning a million pounds a year playing for their county. It doesn’t bother me nor does it dominate my thoughts. I’m happy throwing a slap into me before heading out on two wheels to whoever is in the direst straits. There’ll always be that call no matter what’s happening down at Croke Park or Congress. Some young Ahoghill lad will be needing the secrets of selling a dummy or a Ballinascreen boy wondering if hitting off the ball is ok. The pleasure I get from seeing the same fellows a couple of weeks later jinking here and there or nailing some horse of a man on the sly, and getting away with it, is immeasurable.

The above is what you’d like to believe. Well, if you suck that in then you’ll end up on the scrapheap like the rest who are too romantic to know what’s good for them. Let’s be honest, the country has couped. It’s a fiver for a pint of stout in Dublin and you now have to pay to go on a road. Houses are half built and corner shops are a thing of the past. Up around Lurgan there are lads roaming the streets looking for edible berries. And the GAA are to give county players over a million pounds. That’s how I read it anyway. A million pounds.

There are two options here if you want to get a piece of this windfall. The first one is unattainable to many due to their present condition but not impossible. Spend the winter training. Every night in the dark go for a few miles of a run. In the dark no one will know you’re up to something. Rain, hail or snow makes no difference. Just keep thinking of the mortgage or paying off the Christmas presents. Also, these days you need to be strong in order to play county football. Lift everything you can get your hands on at home: TVs, cupboards, beds and people. It’s too expensive buying weights and the like. Use what’s around you and in no time, when everyone else is worrying about their midriff after devouring a few fowl over the festive season, you’ll stand out like a sore thumb with your healthy jaws and toned waist.

The next stage is tog out and head to the first McKenna game. This competition is famous for trying out lads, be it county or university. It’s also wet, dark and often foggy in January. I’d say if you somehow make your way into the dug out for a game, no one will bat an eyelid. The likes of Harte or Bradley would be too embarrassed to ask you who you are for fear of offending you. When you get the nod, run around for a while with the added fitness you accumulated over the winter and then strike someone in a blatant manner in full view of the ref. Hit him again when he’s down to make sure. Pretend to slap the ref. You’re guaranteed a mention in the papers the next day. It’s probably dawn on Mickey or Baker what has happened but it’s too late for them. At the end of the year, head down to Croker to collect your share of the million pounds as a county player that year.

The easier option is to find an inter-county manager who’s a distant relative and ask him to give you a run-out. It’s unlikely if you put a poor enough mouth on as well as having the wife and children in the car looking hungry that they’ll turn their back on you. Sure look at Joe Kernan, Mickey Harte, PJ O’Hare and Ross Carr. Expect to see sons of county managers popping up all over the joint. There could be up to 10 McCartans in Mourne colours by the time they take on Derry

Finally, the swine flu. It’s going to get worse. Sources tell me that it’s travelling in convoy and will be hitting the likes of Fermanagh, Cavan and Donegal after the New Year. Again, pre-empt this by training with a Fermanagh club side for a few weeks in January but don’t shower with, touch, or even talk to if you can, the other players. Jump into the car after every session, apply the anti-flu gel and head the blazes out of the county. Them boys wouldn’t be into using the soap at all, never mind the hand-gel. Before long the whole camp will be spluttering over each other and the county manager has a dilemma on his hands. Give him a call and let him know you’re training with Lisnaskea or Devenish and are available to dig him out against UUJ in Brewster. Even if you don’t touch leather and get horrible abuse from the crowd, just keep thinking about the Euros you’ll be pocketing next September.

The Irish aren’t slow when it comes to exploiting loopholes. The GAA have signed their name to it and the money cannot be denied to anyone who even togs out and remains on the bench. Last night I ran six miles.