Friday, February 01, 2008

If you're gonna build a time machine...

...into a car, why not do it with some style? (Dr Emmett Brown)

The notion of learning all you need to know about life from listening to people on the bus/train/in the shop or the gynaecologists has been debated at great length in the halls and alcoves of this parish before, permit me if you will to alter this much used motivator again and consider the following.

I got the 10 bus from Carrickstown to the top of O’Connell Street earlier on and witnessed what can only be described at the conversational version of pass the parcel. It began down the back with a couple of young ones, UCD students by the look of them, discussing the places and eras they’d like to visit if they had the ability to go back in time. The usual notions were thrown around, to see Victorian England, experience Beatlemania and the swinging sixties, Woodstock etc. After they got up and left the baton was taken on by two lads in suits who, thinking they were somewhat more cultured, talked about they’d like to be in the GPO during the Easter Rising or witness the crucifixion at Calgary.

It was hard not to consider where and when I’d transport myself to if I could. I feel like somewhat of a cretin because all mine revolve around sport. I’m going to be pretty engrossed in the rugby for the next couple of week, also because of my job I seem not to have been able to have a conversation in the recent weeks without the issue of the Irish soccer manager’s job, Eddie O’Sullivan, Kevin Keegan or Liverpool going to the dogs acting as a core topic. I’ve become increasingly jealous of people I encounter in conversations to which I’m an outsider. Memories of iconic sporting events that I can’t aid the expansion of because of my age. Euro88 and Italia 90, the big days of Irish soccer, happened when I was 7 and 9 respectively. I’ve often been the pleb who’s been forced to listen to stories of the great Irish rugby teams of the past because I can only rely upon what I've read while those in my company are recounting evenings spent in The Burlington and Paddy Cullen's, events played out while I was at home worrying about the outcome of Anne and Barry books and whether or not Dogtanian would make it with The Three Mustkehounds.

I know sports posts aren't anyone's favorite genres here but for what it's worth I'd love to stick the Da in a Delorean and travel back to Cagliari on June 11th 1990, Anfield on this day in 1973, Croke Park for the classic hurling finals of days gone by amongst countless other occasions.

I’m sure your ambitions would all be far more worthy of the ability.


  1. Don't worry you are getting older...happens to the best of us and in a few years you'll have a bit of a belly and some grey hair..then you can sy things like "when I were a lad"...and sports bore with the rest!

  2. I don't know where I would go. I like the idea that with the time machine you can go not just whenever, but where ever you want. I might just stay rightin the present and transport myself into Johnny Depp's bedroom, if you see my point.

  3. Simple. The 60s. America. Before all the great themes were used up and turned into theme parks as someone once said.

  4. MW you've touched on what the core element of my post was originally going to be before I butchered it fearing a sport jihad would be launched in my direction.

    Unlike the aul lads I work with, I've come into my prime at a time when Irish sport, for the most part, is engaged in the slump of all slumps. The soccer is gone to the dogs, the rugby team seem more interesting in kicking the shite out of each other than the team they're playing.

    Granted we're doing well in boxing, cricket and athletics but it's not as if you're going to get to go on a socceresque trip with any of them?

    I feel cheated by the Celtic Tiger driven decline in sport.

  5. I remember Italia 90, I hadn't heard of football before that, but I watched all the games, the how-r-ya's selling updated t-shirts on O'Connell's bridge every half day. It clashed with my leaving cert, I did best in Irish despite being in the local til all hours the night before the exam watching a very exciting WC game.

    Jealous Tib?