Republican News · Thursday 27 February 1997
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Confessions of a Cock Fighter
By Sean O Donaile
I bumped into a lifelong GAA man at a cockfight on the border at the weekend. This is how the conversation went:-
Tom: Are you that effin Kevin Myers with that pen in your hand?
Mise: I'm a famous journalist writing for An Phoblacht, we're stuck for War News, so I thought I might jot a few lines about the action here.
T: As long as you're not one of those smart arses from above in Dublin talking through your arse about us savages in the country.
S: No, I'm on your side.
T: That's alright so. Do you want to see some badger baiting or coursing?
S: Ah no, this is enough, they only give me a quarter page and I'd never get all the gory details in.
T: Yeah, that was some shite you wrote about ice skating last month. Sure republicans don't ice skate.
S: You'd be surprised. I've even met one or two who play golf.
T: That effin' shower - they don't pay any taxes.
S: That's the farmers.
T: Yeah, the big ones with their Zetors and their rugby balls. Wasn't it great to see that crowd getting stuffed again?
S: Well, I suppose, but I met a republican rugger bugger last week.
T: Aye, and will Dublin ever get rid of that manager Whelan?
S: That's right.
T: Did Eamon Dunphy or any of your writer friends tell you if Michelle Smith was on the drugs?
S: He's not my friend and I don't care if she does as long as it's as Gaeilge.
T: I reckon all those sportspeople are on the drugs.
S: Aye, and sleeping with each other.
T: Who's Dunphy sleeping with?
S: One of those golfers, yer man with the yellow jumper.
T: Above in Dublin there's no morals.
S: No, but good footballers.
T: Now what's happening with the peace process?
S: It's a bit like Niall Quinn, never steady at the best of times and taking a break for a few months.
T: That soccer crowd will never win nothing, bringing poisoned hot dogs into Croke Park, and cursing at each other.
S: Aye, but Finn Harps aren't a bad side.
T: That GAA crowd are crooked. They keep all the money and buy big dinners for themselves.
S: And the bishops.
T: Don't be slagging the church. That's you Dubs again. Have you filled your quarter page yet?
S: Almost, I just need a few photos.
T: Do you want a box in the jaw?
S: I'll have to do with a picture of another ice skater so.
T: Or Mary Harney.
S: She doesn't play football.
T: No, but neither does Colm Coyle or Andy Cole. And she'll sort out those smart arses on the dole above in Dublin.
S: Right so, I'll go back to the other smartarse socialists.
T: Do that and don't forget to say Up Porto!
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