THE KIDS playing soccer against the lamp posts of Ballybough must be a bit bemused about "foreign games Saturday's American football spectacle, played in the behemoth that towers over that neighbourhood, was about as absurdly blatant a case as we're likely to see of "cultural imperialism" - or should it be "synthetic tourism", - since Ireland will surely never be won for the gridiron cause?

Still, since it came from across the preferred water, and carried the Notre Dame imprimatur, it was good enough for the boys in the GAA.

The boys in RTE were similarly pliant, with very polite mockery at the outer limits of rudeness in the extensive coverage. The Gay Byrne Show (RTE Radio 1, Monday to Friday) brought us detailed explanation of the rules of this dreaded sport, even Saturday's Nuachtaris (RTE Radio 1) reckoned it was worth five or 10 minutes. If you were on the streets of Dublin, switching off the radio meant listening to the real life Navy dudes and Notre dames: "Gee, if Mitch knew there was a bookie here he never woulda gone golfing!"

Don't get me wrong: I come from a longish line of "subway alumni" - those urban US Catholics who couldn't hope to attend Notre Dame but support the Fighting Irish teams as a badge of identity. But can we not leave this stuff where it belongs? And banish the hyped up ads that branded as a "great rivalry" a fixture that Navy hasn't won for 30 years? (Any danger of someone questioning our welcome for Uncle Sam's sailors has apparently been permanently dispelled by the lovefest for USS JFK.)

I nearly softened on this subject when the Notre Dame pennants arrived in my local - to go, appropriately, beside the Glasgow Celtic memorabilia. However, in terms of hitting the heights of sporting satisfaction - and celebrating the vicissitudes of the world's football code - nothing could top Danny Baker's Wednesday phone in show on Radio 5 Live, after Manchester United's defeat by unfancied Turkish club Fenerbahce.

Baker is no professional United basher (unlike one self restrained RTE phone in host I could name); he simply gave voice to the almost global satisfaction that greets an embarrassing defeat for those silly, smug United fans.

There was no lovefest here. Those United fans silly and smug enough to ring got short shrift. "If we get our tactics right ..." one essayed to be interrupted by derisive Baker reminding him that "tactics" is not some fine point, but the essence of the game.

Another explained that Red supporters wouldn't boo their team land "give the rest of the country the satisfaction". Baker reiterated our utter satisfaction regardless, then imagined a world in which this logic might work: "Gee, I thought United were awful tonight, but their fans didn't get on them so they must have been all right."

Cricket is a "foreign game" that will never be as popular here as soccer, but as Conor O'Callaghan's poetic The Season (RTE Radio 1, Thursday) made clear, it is "part of what we are" in a way that gridiron fans can only dream of. On modest grounds around Dublin, men and women, boys and girls, of only modestly posh means play out their days with this languorous game.

Very occasionally, this "cultural imperialism lark cuts two ways. The successful export of the Celtic festival of Hallowe'en is one example. Its origins were lovingly explicated by UCD grad student Padraigin Clancy on Thursday's Gay Byrne Show.

Unlike the witch who was on the 5 Live Magazine - who made his "circle" sound like applicants for a small business grant.

Clancy actually evoked the magic of the occasion. In particular, her account of the bizarre Samhain doings on Inis Mor will undoubtedly fill the island's guesthouses for Hallowe'ens yet to come.

The greatest cause for Samhain celebration was, of course, TnaG, subject of respectful admiration on the national English language airwaves, but lots of technical complaints on local radio and Raidio na Gaeltachta.

However, amidst the moans about switching to more expensive receiving equipment, a people's resourcefulness lives on Friday's morning RnaG discussion featured advice on rigging up an aerial using old bicycle spokes.