Gaelic Games: In Akron, Ohio, they have a new rollercoaster which accelerates at 120 m.p.h. up 420 feet and then hurtles over the top of the arc and goes free-falling towards the ground while the G-forces distort the features of every screaming lunatic on board.
The ride lasts for 20 seconds. You can have that or you can have hurling. Seventy minutes a shot and you don't feel sick afterwards.
Kilkenny and Tipperary lurched towards the blue yesterday. Up and away to the top of the arc. The knees trembled afterwards. The ride had the context of a burgeoning rivalry and a decent day, two teams on the cusp of the championship, each of them with a few questions to answer.
Fate set them up nicely with a skilful but tame opening half and then waaaaaahhhhhh! Open your arms out and fly, feel the wind tug your hair, your pulse is doing things it's never done before.
A second half of seven goals. They came so thick and fast that our laptops smoked.
The world went past in a rush and the thought arose that no engineer had built these thrills in with reference to velocity and weight loads and acceleration. This was organic, this was happening, it was an explosion.
The National League has never had it so good.
The anemic secondary competition drew just 17,153 to town for its finale yesterday, but as an advertisement for the quality on offer in early May this couldn't be beaten.
In the end, Kilkenny retained their title, surprising themselves pleasantly by how lean, hard and skillet-like their bellies are after a soft winter.
When Liam Cahill scored a point for Tipperary with just 12 minutes left there were eight points between the teams.
It was the fourth time that Tipp had been eight points ahead. Kilkenny surely weren't coming back off the ropes again.
Kilkenny had just thrown Charlie Carter into the action. It's 15 years since Charlie and DJ Carey cut this place up as minors. They're still in business, just about. Martin Comerford, relieved of full forward duties, fed Carter who scalloped a low one in and DJ may have got the featheriest of touches to it. Goal.
Two minutes of screaming follows. Eddie Brennan feeds Charlie Carter. Bang. Goal. Tick tick tick. Another two minutes. Richie Mullally at wing back switches play with a diagonal ball. Eddie Brennan materialises on the end of it. Bang. Three goals in five minutes. For kicks, Brennan adds a point.
If that were the climax you'd be happy. You'd go home and talk to your friends about it. You wouldn't ask for more. But but but. John Carroll, big and beefy, inserts himself into your vision. He's gunslinging. Goal to put Tipp a point ahead. Again.
We're hurtling towards full-time so quick now. Shefflin points a free. Level. Carroll's goal effort brilliantly saved. Tommy Dunne misses a 65. Kilkenny puck out. Henry Shefflin grabs it, solos, kicks a point! Alll over. Sing fat lady, sing.
"If you're able to put a description on that tomorrow fair play to ye," said Brian Cody, Kilkenny's thoughtful manager.
"It was an amazing game to play in," said DJ Carey, who has played in many games which we classify under A for amazing.
"That's a hard one to describe," said Charlie Carter. In the end, the league title seemed an inadequate recognition of what had gone before. Nobody stopped to examine the bauble.
Questions flew overhead in a holding pattern. Would Philly Maher's knee be alright? What would Tipp do for a full forward now that Noel Hickey had held both Ger O'Grady and Eugene O'Neill scoreless?
Is the boy wonder Tommy Walsh bound for a tour of duty at the back or in midfield? What's Peter Barry's real form? It's over, but it's only just beginning.
Give it up for the greatest warm-up act in history. If summer provides more thrills than this, well, it should carry a health warning.
Match report: Page 8
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