A raft of guides have been produced recently to introduce curious tourists to Northern Ireland to the many wonders of west Belfast wall murals and the internal politics of the Orange Order. But up until now sport has been cruelly ignored. So here it is, the Out of the North A-Z sporting guide.
A is for ANTRIM, the county which manages the tidy GAA trick of simultaneously keeping hurling alive in Ulster while consistently producing the least successful football sides. There are children going to university this autumn who have never known what it is like for the Antrim footballers to win a championship game.
B is for the BILLY BOYS, a cheery little ditty that the unsuspecting visitor will be treated to at almost every Irish League soccer ground on any Saturday afternoon. Don't be alarmed if you're encouraged to join in at the bit about "Fenian blood".
C is for CRICKET, a game that manages to soldier on here despite nobody knowing anybody who plays it.
D is for DECLINE. This word will serve you well in any bar-room discussion. Just drop it in casually when the conversation turns to Ulster football, the Northern Ireland team or the Irish League. Your new friends will be impressed.
E is for EXTRA TIME. This is added on arbitrarily at the end of every club game in every sport. If you suspect that it may be because the referee has had a bet on the draw, keep your thoughts to yourself.
F is for FOOTBALL AUTHORITIES. No rule is so insignificant or so petty that the Irish Football League or the Irish Football Association will not find a way to enforce it. If anyone mentions the IFA or IFL, just shake your head knowingly.
G of course is for the GAA. Everything you ever wanted to know about Northern Catholic culture, contradictions and all, is bound up in the culture of the GAA. Only engage in discussion about Rule 21 if somebody else brings the subject up. Even then, mumble something about waiting until after the Patten Report.
H is for Alex HIGGINS. Natural genius and self-destruction have seldom been so intricately fused inside one body. If pushed, you could construct some grand theory about the needless squandering of talent that also encompasses the career of George Best. Don't be put off if people stifle a yawn half-way through - it's just that they've heard it all before.
I is for INJURY TIME. See Extra Time above. Again, don't question the referee's motives. His brother is probably standing beside you.
J is for JOCKEYS. One of the few sporting areas in which we truly excel. In Tony McCoy and Richard Dunwoody, this small corner of the island has produced the best two National Hunt jockeys of the past decade.
K is for KILLING FIELDS or, as they are more euphemistically referred to, the Junior Reserve Football Championships. The regular match-ups between gnarled 38-year-old corner backs and fresh-faced teenage corner forwards have all the macabre fascination of a motorway pile up.
L is for LINDEN. Down's Mickey Linden is and has been for the past decade the best Gaelic footballer in Ulster. Everyone should make it their business to see him play just once.
M is for MARCHING. Now that ballroom dancing and tug-of-war are closing in on full Olympic status it is only a matter of time before this most Northern of pursuits takes its rightful place on the world's sporting stage. Portadown can be expected to field a strong team although they have been a little short of match practise over the last three or four summers.
N is for the NORTHERN IRELAND football team. The slide from the night 17 years ago when they took on the hosts and won at the World Cup finals in Spain has been inexorable. The most recent IFA hunt for a new manager took six months and ended with the appointment of Lawrie McMenemy. This suggests they were not looking very hard.
O is for the ODYSSEY project which is rising with every passing day along Belfast's erstwhile docks. The selling point is that will be a "sporting, cultural and leisure facility for the new millennium". Throwaway comments about white elephants are considered less than helpful.
P is for PORTRUSH, a course so breathtaking it makes you realise just why golf was invented. But if the wind blows forget about your game and just enjoy the scenery.
Q is for QUEST, as in "Tyrone's quest for an All-Ireland" or "Northern Ireland's quest for international respectability". The thing about most quests is that they are destined to end in honourable failure.
R is for ROAD BOWLS. This requires a journey to the country roads of Armagh for a game so elemental it has to be seen to be believed. Rules? What rules? Every year Armagh and Cork play each other in a World Championship - no-one else enters.
S is for SIXTY THREE which is the average attendance at a first division Irish League game.
T is for TEN-PIN BOWLING. Belfast recently hosted the world championships. Well, you've got to start somewhere.
U is for the ULSTER rugby side, champions of Europe. For a few wonderful weeks in the depths of last winter they made it feel like a game which everyone, hip-flask or no hip-flask, could be a part of.
V is for VISION, a commodity so rare in Northern sporting circles that it makes hens' teeth seem plentiful.
W is for WINDSOR PARK. Home of Linfield and Northern Ireland but possibly the most unwelcoming sports venue in the northern hemisphere. The best argument you could ever make for building a new national stadium.
X is for XENOPHOBIA. Given the widespread antipathy for people who live just a few streets away, it is hardly surprising that visiting foreign teams receive fairly frosty welcomes here. It does, though, have its comically absurd moments - the serenading of the German national side at Windsor Park with the Dambusters' theme being a case in point.
Y is for YACHTING. What people who play cricket during the summer (see above) do for the rest of the year.
Z is for ZERO which is exactly the number of Ulster Senior Football titles that Fermanagh have won. Will hell freeze over first?
