GAA Slur Dave September 8, 2009 Blogs Sweary Friends, readers, new mammies who typed cuddlepot.com incorrectly, Id like to put to you a theory that you may find contentious, even contemptible. You may shoot me down if you wish, but know that I mean no harm, nor blasphemy, nor inflammation of the craw or spleen. I submit to you that just because somebody comes from Galway, that does not make them an automatic GAA fiend. Yes, Ive been mistaken for Someone Who Cares more times than Id care to mention, even on this blog, where theres not a lot I havent cared to mention, big attention whore that I am. But heres one for you: Hi, Im from Galway, and I dont like GAA. I have far more interest in the mating rituals of threadworms (traumatic insemination, as it happens) than I do in the sweaty thuggery of off-duty bank managers, belting lumps out of each other while egged on by their GHDd, roaring fiancees. Really. I just proved it by looking up mating practises of threadworms in Wikipedia, whereupon I got lost in reading about the unusual sexual practises of various animals (did you know that bottlenose dolphins have been known to gang-rape their womenfolk?). Id no sooner get lost in reading about GAA than I would scale Mount Everest on fucking rollerskates. But yknow, I dont think this should be taken as a nasty slur on the GAA and their ruddy mannerisms, for not only have several members of my immediate family been very proficient GAA demi-stars, but I once quite fancied a fella on the local hurling team. Very handy swinging a firm bit of wood, he was, although there didnt seem to be anything resembling wit churning about in his presumed-present brain. Still, all the fresh air had produced in him an acne-free visage, so credit where credits due. It never worked out between us, possibly because I was always too wedged into any available afterparty to spend my Sunday mornings knee-deep in a wet grass verge, watching him trundle through the chunky opposition with the grace of a donkey derby winner. No, I dont like GAA for the same reason I dont like pretty airheads or people who listen to Cascada: Im a filthy snob. My point is that just because one has been reared in the rocky soil of south county Galway (the lesser slice; at least north county Galway have their own local anthems and a breathtaking border with those fuckers in Mayo), does not mean that theyve been reared on a deep love of the Sunday Game. I fucking hate the Sunday fucking Game. Its a bit of a Pavlovs Dog scenario, to be honest; I hear the theme tune to the Sunday fucking Game and I get the taste of overcooked carrots and Erin Gravy Rich on my tongue, and I retch, and suffer severe gripes and grousings. In fact, I wonder if the connection between my mams distinct lack of culinary flexibility and my lack of tolerance for excitable culchies in matching shorts is worth further examination? Certainly, there doesnt seem to be any reason for my appalling disregard for our national pastimes, not when I come from an area so rich in outdoorsy, hulking lunatics and ponytailed, flushed bangardai. It could be the dinner, lads. It could all be psychosomatic. Its not you, its me, and so on and so forth. Whatever the rhyme or reason, it stands that leering about how Were going to bate you off the pitch on Sunday and whatll you say then? is hardly the best way to get a reaction out of me. I might object to the actual leer, but I couldnt give a fuck about the bait. I couldnt give a fuck about the GAA. I dont care whos on the football team, whos off the hurling team, whos tickling the bainisteoir, whos scoring off the pitch, whos in the seminary in real life, whos just been granted planning permission for their two storey on the coastline thanks to their sterling work with this years under 21s. And talking over my trying to put you straight on this will not change my mind. I might be from Galway, I might have the accent, the immunity to midges, and the practised lightness of foot over limestone pavement, but I dont give a toss about the fucking GAA. Alright? Honestly, it happens me all the time. Its stereotyping, kids. Youre all a bunch of feckless racists, hup ya boy ya. www.coddlepot.com Tweet
