The Final Word: Two halves

By Paul Moore

Over the weekend I had reason to be travelling by ferry from Dublin to Holyhead.

Having made a number of similar journeys over the past year I have come to think this is probably a better way to travel than flying.

While one can convince oneself that flying will be quicker when travel to the airport is taken into consideration and getting to the destination from an airport which is often miles away from where you need to be is factored in this may be a misconception.

The ferry leaves you at the centre of the place you want to be in and crucially the journey is a good deal more pleasant as you are free to wander around, have a meal and even do a bit of shopping.

That, plus the fact that you can take as much luggage in the car as you desire. The only downside is if it is dodgy weather in which case I will be the one feeding the seagulls but thankfully this has not happened this year yet.

A number of people pointed out that this was a bad weekend to decide to be travelling as there were two major sporting events happening over the weekend: The All-Ireland hurling final and the Open golf.

I was not especially interested in either and certainly was not in the queue for a £30 burger, although at least I do now know where I will never be eating again if in Portrush.

However, it turned out I could not avoid the sport because on the ferry coming back on Sunday two large screens at either end of the passenger lounge were broadcasting the events live, one showing the hurling and the other showing the golf. The two screens were not too far apart and one might have imagined that there could have been competition between the two screens with people being caught between team endeavour or individual skill, the only similarity being that they both involve bats of some kind. (I do know the correct names for these tools but experience has shown me that followers of both cannot cope with their weapons of choice being called bats, hence..).

In fact there did not seem to be a dilemma of any kind for the viewers. To put it simply you were either glued to the hurling or absorbed in the golf.

There were, however, interesting differences between the viewers for each. The hurling followers were aged generally between 25 and 50, although there was of course the odd irritating child thrown in for good measure.

For the record the males appeared more irritated than the females with their offspring. Significantly the presence of offspring did indicate that the hurling seemed to draw a family audience and the camaraderie between these families was clearly evident with Cork sympathising with Tipp at half time and Tipp monumentally sympathising with Cork by full time. No bitterness, no rancour, just serious banter and above all a care for those around who were not watching or not interested in the match.

Those viewing the golf were of a different tribe. There was not one female watching and an informed guess would suggest there was no-one under the age of 60.

No-one spoke even to share respect for a stroke well played or a hazard negotiated. It was altogether a more sedate affair or if one wanted to be cruel, a more boring affair.

I personally play neither so cannot comment on the value of either but on this evidence if I am at a loose end of a Sunday afternoon I know which field of play I will be heading for.