TheRugbyDude wrote:Man i was at the game in Longford, first Gaa match involving the Dubs ive attended in many a year, and all i can say is that Crazy David is corrrect - Dublin fans are the biggest crowd of scum i have seen since I had the misfortune to be in town on the day if the riots!
The amount of knackers with shirts off, tatoos saying "Eire32" or Liverpool or Celtic, pissing in public, etc etc u get the impression. Im sure the poor decent people of Longford are still in shock after the invasion!
As far as i see it, Gaa fans around the country are decent normal Irish people.
Gaa fans from Dublin are knackers who are bored because soccer season is over. No wonder the rest of the country hates them!
Crouching cider . . .hidden flagon
Monday June 5th 2006
Blue is the colour as down-to-earth Dubs turn Pearse Park into a mini Hill
THE request came as something of a surprise - spend a day travelling with 'de Dubs' on their beer-fuelled jolly to support their team against, excuse me, Longford?
Strange gig for a Corkman, particularly one with a pronounced dislike of football's flagrant flaws. But an enthusiastic response was required, and duly supplied, though the honest, unuttered one went along the lines of: "Ye bleedin' wha?"
Without wishing to lapse into easy generalisation, since moving up from the sticks, we have encountered two types of Dubliners. The first, let's call them group A, are the unbearably self-regarding elitist classes who pour scorn on anyone not meeting their ideal of the modern Irishman/woman and are quite happy to pay almost €6 for porter in establishments that make Chris Eubank seem unpretentious.
Group B are, and forgive the patronising terminology, the 'down to earth' Dubs, unconcerned with one's financial means and a much more likeable lot. The contrast is stark - it's the difference between ordering 'your most expensive bottle of vino' and 'curry sauce with that'.
Dublin's Hill 16 brigade reside squarely in category B and have the deserved reputation as the nation's most rabid football followers, while also being famed for the type of wit that can reduce a lost culchie to tears.
And, as the blue jerseys milled about Connolly Station yesterday morning, we felt a certain empathy with the Longford footballers in their designated role as whipping boys.
"No drink will be permitted on the train," intoned a member of rail security.
"Me bleedin' b****x," came the roared reply, to deafening cheers. And there was plenty of drink, or pardon me 'gargle', on our heaving carriage. Cans and bottles abounded while there were plenty of fans of that popular film 'Crouching Cider, Hidden Flagon'. And everyone - ev-er-y-one - was in blue.
Being the only non-conformist was reminiscent of schooldays when Adidas Roms were a must-have and we were the only ones with the four-stripe imitations.
Once we disembarked in Longford, a delightful town and far from limited to just the one horse, the atmosphere cranked up several notches.
Feeling like a stray cork bobbing along on a sea of blue, we flowed into town and the square was soon a heaving, singing mass of anticipation.
The locals did not seem to mind. Longford has 32 watering holes to cater for its 7,000 inhabitants and they were happy to handle the influx. It was the supermarket, of all places, that struggled to cope.
A horde of Dubs entered in search of sustenance and were soon belting out "C'mon ye Boys in Blue" with frantic staff caught in the maelstrom. "Gis a kiss luv," one topless Dub demanded of the harassed woman behind the counter and her reward for complying was a deafening chorus of "Easy! Easy!"
The gardaí very prominent all day, were summoned to break it up but it was smiles all round. The touts were out on the Battery Road leading to Pearse Park while one gentleman, sporting a magnificent Indian headdress and strumming a banjo, varied the expected question by asking if there was "anyone buying or selling horses?" Pearse Park is a credit to the Longford board and packed a mighty atmosphere yesterday.
The Dublin team were greeted uproariously onto the pitch and then the MC asked us, as gaeilge, to welcome the home side. A big cheer - but no sign of Longford for a good 40 seconds.
Were they intimidated by the atmosphere? If they were, it did not show when they soared into a 0-5 to 0-1 lead and they could have had more if several sitters were not squandered.
Flags and fags
Dublin were fitful, almost indifferent, and frustration mounted on the terraces with bickering over flags and fags dominating under the sweltering sun. It took Mark Vaughan's cool exploitation of a defensive howler by Enda Ledwith to settle everything down and, from that point on, the expected victory seemed a matter of time.
However, Longford realised Dublin were there to be taken and, had they not been so profligate, it could have been a famous victory. But the scorekeepers stuck to the script and Dublin emerged with plenty to work on after a game that matched the occasion.
The Leinster Council would have preferred this fixture in Croke Park, for financial reasons, but how could a half-empty Croker ever compete with a crammed county ground and the Dubs on tour?
As we wended our way back to town, the Dubs began singing Wolfe Tones favourite, 'Celtic Symphony', with its rousing chorus: "Here we go again, we're on the road again to paradise". Whether 'paradise' equals Croke Park in September is doubtful but, however long the journey lasts, these fans will enjoy the ride.
Would we do it again? Undoubtedly. The only sour note was some gouger in the terraces setting off a blue flare and ruining a perfectly good white top but, overall, our day with the Dubs was - what's that phrase again? - Oh yeah, bleedin' deadly.