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Hang On a Minute, I’m Hurling

Hang On a Minute, I’m Hurling

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I barely know what’s going on, because no one in the video speaks English, but I like hurling so I hung in there. I’m also unsure why the host is talking into a popsicle with BALLS written on it, but I don’t judge.

To my unaided eye, the Wexford and Kilkenny teams seem to be a bit robotic. The crowd is somewhat subdued, too. The players run funny, as well. It’s like their cleats don’t fit quite right. Perhaps they’re poor folks, and can’t afford proper footgear, so I won’t mention it again.

You know, I got used to broadcasts of American football with the first down line projected onto the screen. It only took me five or six years to adjust. So I imagine I’ll get used to having little arrows, nametags, weird concentric circles, and incomprehensible symbols in a box all over the screen. Luckily, the announcers speak the international language of organized sports: They yell GOAL GOAL GOAL GOAL! It really helps.

So I figure I understand what’s going on pretty well, all things considered. However, I still have one question about the video’s title. What’s a “Playstation”? Is that the brand of television they’re watching the broadcast on?

The Last Time I Saw Irishmen Beating On Each Other Like That With Sticks, I Was In A Pool Hall

The Last Time I Saw Irishmen Beating On Each Other Like That With Sticks, I Was In A Pool Hall


Hurling! The Irish national game. No protective gear, except a helmet. Then again, the helmet has only been mandatory since 2010. No names on the shirts. Played for pride only; no professional Hurling teams exist. The pitch is huge; about 150 yards by 100.  It’s an ancient game, predating Christianity by as many as 1000 years. You try to strike the ball through the goal posts to score. Over the crossbar is a point; under the bar where the goalie lurks is worth three. You can’t pick the ball off the ground, carry it in your hand for more than four strides, or throw the ball for a score. You can’t pull on a jersey, trip, or push your opponent.

In my experience, games played furiously for pride alone always end up with hurling. You buy your opponents a beer, and they buy you one…