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 Kuala Lumpur International Airport is a fine spot since they did it up, and as we sat there having the flask of tea with a few banana and marmalade sandwiches to tide us over, Nancy fired out the question I’ve been asked a thousand times over the years, often by her:
“Who was the hardest of them all, Noel,” she said, “Pat O’Byrne or Brian McGilligan?” I told her that’s like being asked your favourite poem, song, or fist-pass of all time – it can change on a daily basis according to your moods. “The one thing I’ll say for McGilligan,” I mused, “is that they hadn’t a clue what he was saying. That stood to him. Australian tv had to put sub-titles up. I can still hear John Todd asking me where we got him out of.”
Of course, there have been times down the years when I’ve regretted suggesting a tie-up with the Aussies to The Man with the Cap Peter McDermott. It’s not the rough stuff that bothers me, of course. It’d take more than that – as Nancy always said during her Camogie years, it’s a man’s game. No, my problem is the disruption it causes to club matches, and I have long advocated that the series take place at a neutral venue – Signapore, Bangkok, or Langkawi – so that players could fly back home first thing Saturday morning to play for their club that evening or on the Sunday. Either that, or fly the club players out.
The club remains the basic unit of the Association. The Aussies know I’m helping out in the backroom this time, and, indeed, while sitting there reading the Anglo-Celt in the airport, I got a text message from Gary McIntosh, whose cough I softened in Croke Park in the early 1980. We became great friends afterwards.
“Noel, you old dinger,” he wrote, “clever move, matey. All the pressure is on our boys to keep it clean, and you wheel out a rugger dude who’s parked for creaming a fan. Bloody oath, that’ll do a whole pile for international relations, Noel.
“You’re twice as smart as a man who’d be half as smart as youJ”
And then, seconds later, a second text: “Tell Nancy I still can’t understand what a nice Sheila like her is doing with a digger like youJ I will chuck a sickie when you’re over and we’ll hook up.” Upon arriving on Thursday morning, we went straight to the B&B for a lie-down, before taking ourselves off for a brisk walk and a game of Paintball to loosen us up.
I love Perth, the people are always very warm to me, and it’s not unusual walking down the street to hear a cry of: “Enjoy the trip Noel, you old Bushranger, hope the weather’s good enough for you to get your budgie-smuggler on and out for a dip – how did ye get on in the county championship this year?” The series will be grand. We can’t be insular in the GAA. It’s the one thing people can’t say about me, that I’m inward-looking: getting the amalgamation through in our own parish required some deft skills of diplomacy, and I managed to pull it off, though it wasn’t an easy task after the burning of the effigy of the goat heightened local tensions.
“That’s the thing about Noel,” Nancy said to the friendly young Sri Lankan who served us the boiled Boxty in Perth yesterday afternoon, just before we went out to the match, “he has a strong belief in moving with the times, but not bending with the wind either.” I had to swap seats with Nancy at halftime as my ribs were black and blue from all the digs she gave me as she followed all the action. In the third quarter, Kieran Donaghy soared for a ball in front of the Aussie goal that he kicked in himself, although Nancy was adamant it was just a high solo.
Boylan was downbeat when we met afterwards for a couple of strawberry daiquiris. “Don’t worry about the fourth quarter Boyler,” I said, “it’s the eighth quarter next week I’d be more worried about” and armed with that nugget off he skipped.
Noel believes in believing in going down on it to win your free. Email him at
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; visit www.knowledgeablenoel.com; Skype (knowledgeable.noel); and Facebook (Knowledgeable Noel.)
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