We Are Cork

People have expressed some concerns about the readiness of the Cork Hurlers this year. "Christ we have nothing, the lads aren't playing as a unit,Joe Deane has lost all form, Timmy is very sluggish, we have no forwards,midfield is still a huge problem, where will we play Diarmuid, we have no free taker"

My dear friends relax; enjoy the next few weeks and the long evenings. Immerse yourself in all things Cork and feel good. Have a stroll down the Mardyke, have a wander up to Shandon, even Ring the bells if you want to. Have a lovely ramble down the Lee fields with the dogs and have a Quart in The Anglers Rest. Then drive down to Cloyne for a spin and say a few Prayers at Rings statue. Drive to Allihies in West Cork some day, one of the most beautiful Places on the planet. It'll change your life. Maybe pop into Moks pub on Bandon Rd some night and have a pint with Jimmy Barry Murphy. Just sit there, you don't have to say anything, he'll know that you know.

Then run across to Lennox's for a cheese and onion pie and chips with peas and curry Start saying "me dazza" , and start asking  for a glass of "raasa" in your local Go to a road bowling match out in Blackpool, then walk back into town around 3pm, hopefully it'll piss rain. Grab a breast in a bun in HillBillies if you get the munchies, then head to the Hi B for a lash of pints until you get thrown out for reading the paper  - "this isn't a shagging library son" Head into the English market on the way home but don't go to those faggot ass spice and sun dried tomato stalls. Go to the old meat counters; buy some offal, a couple of half heads, some liver, heart and kidneys. Make sure you pick up a nice bit of hake and conger from O'Connells fish stall. Buy a couple of stale skull loafs while you're there and stroll out of town, you'll pass where Henry's once stood, up Barrack St, pass The Enterprise and out Bandon Rd. Pop into "Gallies" for a few cans and The Echo and head over to The Lough.

Be sure to bring your walkman, (not your discman ya snob) and play The Stargazers, Gallagher, the Franks and Sultans while you feed bread to the swans. Hopefully there'll be soft sweet rain falling, the kind of rain you only get in Cork on summer evenings and on the Friday before big hurling matches. Drift off into a beautiful dream, a dream of balmy Sundays in Thurles, singing De Banks with friends, family and loved ones ...

When you wake up, get your "mam" to collect you and make you tea and Toast at home while you dry your jeans, monkey hat and parka jacket in front of the fire and talk all night about music and nights out and savage drinking sessions and old games and the games to come. You'll make a few calls to the lads on Saturday about arranging a lift and who's bringing the sambos and tinnies. You'll be nervous Saturday night so you'll get hammered and travel to the game next day with a cruel hangover - nothing worse, nothing better. You know Sunday will be sunny, they always are in Thurles and you'll meet people you went to school with outside The County Bar and haven't seen for 15 years and they'll look the very same You'll meet some really quiet guy in work who you never knew was into Cork and he'll be demented drunk with an old Barry's Tea jersey on him. Some of them will be nervous but the real Cork heads" won't give a sh*t, they expect to win, and win "handy like", even against overwhelming odds Some will say, "era we haven't a chance this year. The papers are laughing at us; we have no forwards or midfield, we chocked last year."

But you know we have something, something indefinable. You remember what JBM told you that night in Moks in May: "You can never write us off.  We are beautiful. We will be there when all the others are long gone, we are forever baby, we are Cork........"