Under par hurling as decider pairings emerge; Vincent Hogan’s The Lost Sportswriter –a must for readers; Football semi’s weekend.
Repeat, repeat and well, not really a repeat.
That’s the line-up for the FBD Insurance county hurling finals at senior, premier intermediate and intermediate levels following a weekend of semi-finals, which really didn’t catch flight in the fashion expected – apart from the thrillers in the intermediate grade.
There, Ballingarry and Arravale Rovers prevailed over Borrisokane and Cappawhite in high quality, edge-of-the-seat games to make it to the final – and a highly anticipated final it will be.
The first repeat – the senior hurling final of 1962 – Thurles Sarsfields and Moycarkey Borris. The Blues won that final by a solitary point in a low scoring game. And, following their win over a disappointing Nenagh outfit they will be favourites to repeat the feat on Sunday week in FBD Semple Stadium. But, they have been warned, Moycarkey Borris are never beaten and a second late surge in succession has earned them a place in their first final since 1984.
How JK Brackens must be kicking themselves this week – they had the match under control and had to know that Moycarkey Borris would come at them to the death. That they let it slip will hurt them badly and they will be licking their wounds over the winter as they contemplate what might have been.
As for Nenagh, well they never really had a go, did they? Frustratingly they watched Sarsfields dictate the terms of engagement and their big names were missing when they were needed most. Contrast that with Sarsfields for whom Denis Maher was outstanding, Conor Stakelum superb, Kieran Rossiter and Euan Murray hurling up a storm and then Ronan Maher returning to the field with a bang.
Sarsfields have really impressed and anyone who saw them in the mid semi-final defeat to Holycross Ballycahill could never have predicted a county final place for them. But hard work, knuckling down and fighting like tigers has won the day for them – Paddy Creedon’s 60 yard dash to get in a hook in front of the Old Stand perhaps articulating this mentality better than any words could.
Two very hard working teams then in the county final; bragging rights abound; divisional rivalry at its best. Much to look forward to.
Speaking of divisional rivalry, what about St Mary’s and Killenaule for the premier intermediate title? As one south team, Mullinahone, departs senior ranks, another will emerge. St Mary’s are favourites and their win over Sarsfields, though the margin flattered them slightly, will give them great confidence as they face Killenaule for a third time this championship season. It is currently one win each, but the next winner really does take all. Killenaule had enough to do to get over Éire Óg Annacarty and they will be hoping to return a few key players from injury in time for the final – Lourdes water may well be consumed in vast quantities by the Robins as they ready themselves for what is a massive game for both clubs.
THE VIEW has often contemplated the shift of dominance towards the urban clubs. Could there be a clean urban sweep on the cards – Sarsfields, St Mary’s and Arravale Rovers? Well, Moycarkey Borris, Killenaule and Ballingarry will have something to say about that one.
Another urban team survived the drop – Roscrea saw off Mullinahone to retain senior status – disappointment for the south men after a great run in the top tier.
This weekend we are back to the football and a host of divisional match-up’s in the county championships penultimate weekend – Loughmore Castleiney and Kilsheelan Kilcash; Clonmel Commercials and Moyle Rovers in the senior; Fethard and Killenaule; and Rockwell Rovers and Golden Kilfeacle in the intermediate. You couldn’t write it!!
Vincent Hogan’s new book – worth waiting for
Nenagh’s own Vincent Hogan has put pen to paper on a much-anticipated account of 43 extraordinary years spent in some of the most storied press boxes on the planet.
The Lost Sportswriter is part memoir, part lament and part love letter to a profession that has changed almost beyond recognition. Hogan charts the transformation of sportswriting from an intimate, personality-driven craft — where trust was earned, doors were opened and stories were told in all their glorious complexity — to today’s increasingly sanitised world of controlled access, carefully managed messages and sterile, PR-shaped exchanges.
It is a theme this column has returned to on more than one occasion, and one I have discussed at length with Vincent himself, as we reflected on what, somewhere along the way, has been lost from the profession we both love.
In Tipperary, we have always celebrated our sporting heroes. From Sharlene Mawdsley to Ronan Maher; Sean Kelly to Gary Ryan; Aimee Lee Murphy Crowe to Orla O’Dwyer; Jimmy Doyle to Alan Quinlan — the roll of honour seems endless. But we have also long celebrated those who have chronicled their exploits, capturing the sweat, sacrifice, triumph and heartbreak in words that often become as enduring as the sporting moments themselves.
And so, alongside our sporting greats, Tipperary can rightly take immense pride in its writers — Donal Ryan, Charles Kickham, Seamus J King, Liam O’Donnchu and Vincent Hogan among them.
Which is why we sit up and take notice when Hogan suggests that we may, paradoxically, be living through an era of unprecedented excellence in sports writing. The writers are there. The stories are there. The heroes, dramas, triumphs and tragedies are certainly there. What remains increasingly elusive, however, is unfettered access to the truth behind the public performance. Perhaps, one day, those remote and aloof controllers who now guard and manage so much of sport will come to understand that allowing writers to tell the real story, honestly, intelligently and with insight, is not something to be feared. Indeed, it may be one of the greatest gifts sport can give to itself. Vincent has spent a lifetime proving the point. His many books bear witness to that, none more powerfully than the autobiography of Paul McGrath, Back from the Brink — a remarkable, harrowing and deeply human account of one of Ireland’s greatest sporting icons.
Hogan possesses that rare ability to make language breathe. He can summon the blood and thunder of a Munster hurling final in Semple Stadium until you can almost hear the clash of ash and feel the crowd surge around you. He can capture the devastating stench of failure and tragedy at a World Cup, the silence that follows a dream collapsing on the biggest stage of all. Equally, he can transport you to the unbridled joy of watching an Irish flag climb above all others at the Olympic Games, or into the mind of a coach who has just witnessed victory rise gloriously from the ashes — or watched defeat snatch it away at the very last. That is Hogan’s gift.
Vincent does not merely describe sport; he understands its pulse. He knows that beneath every scoreline lies a story, beneath every medal a sacrifice, and behind every moment of glory a human being carrying hopes, fears, wounds and dreams.
The Lost Sportswriter is therefore much more than a memoir. It is a reflection on a changing sporting world, a changing media and a changing relationship between those who make the stories and those who tell them. Funny, engaging, beautifully observed and unflinchingly self-reflective, it is a book about heroes, matches, memories and — perhaps most importantly — the words that remain long after the final whistle has sounded. Vincent Hogan has been a standard-bearer for Irish sportswriting for more than four decades. Do yourself a favour. Go out and buy the book.