I am the youngest of seven children of a Cork family with a long tradition of sport.
My father played tennis, hunted and played golf, my mother also played golf but when she was younger had played tennis to county level and captained the Irish Ladies Hockey team on many occasions.

(In fact as a young man working in Snaffles in Dublin I was brought out of the kitchen and introduced by one capped Irish rugby player to another as ” Frances Dwyers son, she was captain of the Irish hockey team for seven years” the man I was introduced to was Tony O Reilly, now better know as Sir Anthony of that ilk)

All of my brothers and sisters played sports, the brothers doing well in rugby tennis and golf, the sisters in hockey and tennis.
I mean we had our own tennis court at home for Gods sake!

Of course I decided at an early age (I would say with some cunning) that if I was going to shine in any way I had better do it in some other way than sport.
So I became the family anomoly, a non-sporty Dwyer.

Now our house in Cork was situated on one side of the river Lee exactly across from, and with a perfect view of, Pairc Ui Caoimh on the other side.
To my shame I never crossed the river to see a match, even though on match days the roars of the crowds would fill the house.

Strangely, in my old age, I have ended up with a house backing on to the main pitch in Waterford city; Walsh Park, so our house can still be filled with the roars of supporters on occasion.

While we lived in Kent, thirty some years ago, one of the waiters in the restaurant in which we worked, Mike, was an avid fan of West Ham United.

He was shocked to discover that a grown man like me had never been to a football match, he told me that the next time they played at home I was going.
And I did, accompanied by Mike and young Bruno Waterfield (the bosses son-now the Brussels correspondent for the Daily Telegraph) and had a great day.
I can’t actually remember much about the match but distinctly remember the pre-match egg and chips in an East End Cafe.

Something similar happened to me yesterday.
My friend Donal Moore announced to me that (having previously discovered that I was a Hurley Virgin) he was going to take me to a match and yesterdays Kilkenny versus Waterford League game in Walsh Park was going to be the one.

He arrived to collect me a half an hour before the game and complete with blue and white cap and streamer (and to the huge amusement of my wife) we headed off to the game.

Well readers I loved it !

In my old age and out of view of The Family I have become a little bit of a closet watcher of sport.
I have been known to get emotional during a rugby international and positively hysterical if I have a horse running in the Grand National.

None of these experiences however quite prepared me for the atmosphere of the live game.

Our Team stand for the Anthem.

The skill displayed by these men was quite astounding.
I have heard of addressing the ball but these lads were able to make it come when they called.

Taking a Free:

Ready

Calling the ball

And up it comes!

And best of all, after a cliff hanger of a match, We Won.
Finally getting our revenge for the trouncing in Croke Park last year.

Thank You Donal, I will return.