In today’s Hospital Pass, we take a look at the strange case of the Dublin hurling team’s knees and ponder the lack of an agricultural streak in the Meath footballers.
The phrase “weak at the knees” is usually associated with the fair folk on the opposite site of the gender divide. Mention Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind or Cocktail-era Tom Cruise, and the swoonsome girlfolk are liable to buckle. (Or maybe not. Either way, the Her.ie folk will be along this summer to tell all us lads what’s what.)
So when you think “weak at the knees” you don’t automatically think “hurlers”, or to be more specific, you don’t automatically think “Dublin hurlers”.
But that’s exactly what they seem to be. Literally, as Jamie Redknapp might say, and this time he’d be right.
Liam Rushe, the brilliant young star of last year’s National League winning side (and third most influential hurler in the country, according to the rest of the JOE team), has been speaking about the strange epidemic that has enveloped Anthony Daly’s panel over the past 12 months.
In a freak series of incidents – think Final Destination, GAA-style – five Dublin hurlers have been struck down by cruciate knee ligament injuries: Stephen Hiney, Tomas Brady and Conal Keaney last year, and Paul Schutte and Martin Quilty in the past few weeks.
“They are all so varied,” said Rushe. “The three lads were different – I mean, Keaney got knocked off his bike. With Martin, both lads hit each other in mid-air. They came down, the other lad landed on his back and Quilty landed on his feet and did his cruciate.”
Watch your back, Liam. Or more accurately, watch your knee.
Oh Beautiful Meath, all that you need is a load of big mullicking farmers
Meath: it’s the home of some of the best agricultural land in the country. Unlike their more idealistic counterparts from Kildare, Meath folk quickly identified that there was more money to be made in cattle than horses, and set about filling the place with dairy farms.
The Government did its bit, too, with the Land Commission Act settling poor unfortunate folk (for example, Colm O’Rourke’s family) from the wesht of Ireland to new, pinch-me-I’m-dreaming lots of land in the Royal County.
The Reynolds clan and Liam Harnan are just some of the farmers who’ve worn Meath colours to All-Ireland-winning distinction, but according to serial Meath critic Martin McHugh, it’s the absence of agricultural folk that has prompted the county’s demise in recent years.
In his Irish Daily Star column, McHugh wrote: “I said during the league that Meath had gone soft compared to the days of Mickey Lyons and Liam Harnan, and not one Meath person I’ve met since has disagreed with me.
“Meath is one of the wealthiest counties in Ireland, but I feel the Celtic Tiger left them vulnerable and turned them soft. The same manual labours on farms weren’t being done and that tough breed of player disappeared.”
No medals and plenty of money wouldn’t be too bad, we’re guessing. Unfortunately for Meath people, at the moment the equation is more like no medals and plenty of Nama debt.
