Notes from a large Île
February 11, 2008 @ 1:27 pm | by Shane Hegarty
- I’m beginning to think that the rugby match is a penance that must be gone through in order to enjoy the rest of the weekend in Paris. People keep telling me that it was a great game. No it wasn’t. It was torture, compounded by how victory briefly appeared inevitable. A 30-point defeat is a clean cut to the soul. A narrow one after a surprise comeback is a cruel botch job.
- It was, without doubt, the worst rendition of Ireland’s Call yet. The male voice choir went a capella, starting with a low groan and then setting off at a random pace. You wondered how any team could avoid being enervated by it, never mind inspired.
- A truly great national anthem is one that makes even your enemies sing along. I haven’t been at a Paris game yet without hearing a few Irish voices join in with La Marseillaise. All together now, Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Naaaaa-Na-Na…
- Blue skies, warmth in the sun, the cafés and markets buzzing, the bars open all night. When you come back to Dublin, you feel immediately inadequate. (more…)