Unmasked – McSherry’s Musings

Ar ais arís (back again)… Despite a few bangs, I’ve always had a fondness for the Loughshore. The first time I ever played a competitive game of football was at the Washingbay for Coalisland Primate Dixon Memorial School, at the tender age of 11, against Kingsisland PS. Our mentor was the wonderful Master Barney Herron, who passed away in recent weeks. Brian Robinson, who went on to be a very useful footballer, winded me and Master Heron called me ashore. That evening, my Dad smiled, “You’d soon get winded about Derrylaughan alright.” That was the spring of ‘71.

Recently, I met Brian at a MacRory Cup game further along the Loughshore in Ardboe. He didn’t recall the incident, but verified we are indeed of similar vintage. I guess he winded a few men since. He suggested I get over it. That is not the essence of this Musing, however; so read on…

I returned to Ardboe for the MacRory Cup semi-final three weeks ago and got soaked to the skin. For three days I had what one would describe as a head cold. Just to be sure, the kit was got and – lo and behold! – to my surprise there were two red lines on the white stick. Mr Covid had arrived. Whether being armed with two vaccines and a booster, or the fact that the latest variant is not so powerful, thankfully it was no big deal. There was a huge crowd at the game and perhaps that son of a gun virus was airborne; I’m not sure. It doesn’t leave a calling card with time and place of arrival.

Although feeling fine, I followed directions set in place for a crisis that had a beginning, and hopefully now an end.

They are rules directed by the best medical minds and designed for the common good. Society functions through laws to wisdom learnt on our mothers’ knees to spiritual teachings and common decency, although not always easy to follow.

The responses during the pandemic were fascinating. A ‘plan-demic’ wailed the conspiracy theorists who believed it was a world-wide plot to control people. Wow! Then there was the anti-authoritarian mob who wailed, “No-one tells me what to do!” Meat Loaf spoke out with great fervour against pandemic safety protocols. Alas, he succumbed to Covid at the relatively young age of 74… tragically ‘gone, like a bat out of hell!’

Whether Meat Loaf and other anti-vaxxers would still be with us had they heeded expert advice, we will never know.

During all the spare time, I watched a fascinating satirical comedy drama, ‘Succession’. The series centres on the Roy family; the dysfunctional owners of Waystar RoyCo, a global media and entertainment conglomerate. None of the protagonists has a redeeming feature as they clamour up the company ladder, devoid of loyalty or love. They are whisked off to mansions in helicopters and yachts for high rolling weekends and business conferences, while silent servants stand holding trays of drinks aperitifs before the banquet.

Writer Jesse Armstrong, who once wrote a screenplay titled ‘Murdoch’, has insisted that for ‘Succession’, he and his fellow scribes took inspiration from a wide array of modern-day dynasties, including the Maxwells (as in Robert and Ghislaine) and the British royal family, the Windsors.

The privileged often believe society’s rules and regulations are for the commoners and do not apply to them. A sense of entitlement. Andrew Windsor knows the score. The Department for Trade was glad to get shot of him as their ambassador. An obnoxious and arrogant character, the story goes that the prince, on being introduced to a famous Italian designer, greeted him, “I’ve never heard of you”. He was a liability rather than an asset as part of the trade delegations.

His take on reality is questionable, and after the notorious interview with Newsnight’s Emily Maitlis he told his Mum, “It went well”.

Self-deluded, he was in a minority of one, holding that view. With one law for the rich and one for the poor, so it came to pass that Mammy was his get-out-of-jail free card (albeit $12million).

Then there was spoilt brat Kurt Zouma whose idea of fun is to kick a defenseless cat around the kitchen. The West Ham ‘star’ lives in a bubble of entitlement, and thought the footage was hilarious and would go viral.

He was fined two weeks wages; £250,000! A young man thrown into a world of obscene riches who has lost touch with reality. Former Liverpool player, Jamie Carragher expressed sympathy for Zouma after what he had been through.

Matured and wiser head, Graeme Souness, had no sympathy, asking, “What about what the cat’s been through?!”

The Tories partied while the rest of us stayed at home to protect the most vulnerable. As the heat comes off Boris, the smirk returns. They were best depicted in a photograph of MP Jacob Rees-Mogg lying across a seat in the House of Commons, his head back laughing as folk scrambled to put food on their tables and keep the wolf from the door. According to Spear’s Wealth Management, Mr Rees-Mogg’s net worth is well over £100 million.

The only commandment the Tories believe they broke was the eleventh: Thou shalt not get caught. To the manor born.

It’s good to be back and out of isolation.

The mask is off.

It’s been an interesting two
years…