Dia daoibh and a big fáilte, all you fight fans, to Páirc Uí Punch-Up for the strife in the sticks, the tangle in Tyrone. Yes, it's the one we have all been waiting for. In the red corner, the All-Ireland Champions, Tyrone; and in the Blue Corner, the Challengers, Da Dirty Dubs. This should be a titanic struggle to the death, it's Ali v Fraser for Ireland's Gaels.
And the referee blows his whistle and they are off. They are off, fight fans. Right hook, jab, jab, left hook, haymaker. It's great stuff, great stuff indeed, but nothing much happening so far. More punches and jabs, more handbags flying. It's a melee all right, fight fans but, regrettably, no one has gone to ground yet.
The referee has blown his whistle. He is giving the players a stern talking to and rightly so. We expect better from top teams. That is at least two minutes of futile pushing and shoving and no one - I say no one, fight fans - has hit the deck yet.
Disgraceful scenes indeed. I'm sure there is many a retired Meath player looking on in absolute disgust at this. Not a single knock-out delivered so far. It's a sad indictment on Gaelic games that the All-Ireland champions have not got a decent punch between them. Red Hands? More like moisturised hands, I'd say, fight fans. Far too much easy living.
And they are off again. Another melee. Yes, the fists are flying fast and furious but it's more Jackie Chan than Bruce Lee. Everyone is still standing. These Dubs are a disgrace - especially in this, the 90th year since the Rising. Would the GPO have held out with these Dubs inside, fight fans? No, is the answer. The Rising wouldn't have lasted an hour, let alone a week, had we the likes of these boys on the barricades. No, fight fans, the Union Jack would still be over Dublin Castle had these boys followed Pearse.
And, equally, these Tyrone players are a wild disgrace. To think their ancestors fought Elizabeth I to a standstill a mere 400 years ago. To think these were the type of men that the Great O'Neill, Earl of Tyrone, depended upon. It breaks this Gael's heart to watch how wretched the Zulus of
Seskinore have become.
Look at them swinging away like school children. Terrible, terrible scenes. No
technique at all, fight fans.
And the referee is putting a stop to it again. He looks frustrated and who could blame him? It's not meant to be like this. I well mind a game back in 1973 up the country in which five - count them, fight fans - five stretchers were needed and that was just for the walking wounded. The real casualties had to be airlifted out of the square, such was the ferocity of the fisticuffs. It was a scene that wouldn't have been out of place on the Somme. Now there was a football game. I don't know if there were many Meath men on the Somme but I bet the few that were there did fierce damage. Those were the days, fight fans, mo léan géar, ochón, cá¡ ndeachaigh na fir? And they are off again. Another scrum - and not the limp-wristed rugby scrum of south Dublin toffs, but a proper one. . . yet still no one is landing a punch worth a damn. Thirty Gaelic footballers in their prime and not one of them flattened on the sweet, green lawn of Páirc Uí Punch-Up. I ask you fight fans, have they a pair of testicles between them? No, fight fans, no, they don't. I blame vegetarians for the whole thing. Did I say vegetarians? I meant feminists. Did I say feminists, I meant lesbians. That is who I blame - the vegetarian, lesbian feminists who have castrated our fine Gaels.
And don't blame the referee, fight fans, the referee has done his level best; he has given these players every opportunity to show what they are made off and we are all most unimpressed. The stretcher-bearers look bored out of their skulls, fight fans. One optimistic soul has taken some bandages out of his satchel. Put them away, says I, you'll not need it. But who can blame him for hoping?
Something has happened. What's this? Sweet Mary of the Gael, some blurt has picked up the ball and is running with it. I've never seen the like, fight fans, it is a disgusting exhibition of athleticism and has no place on this hallowed turf. Oh, he has kicked it over the bar. Well, aren't you the big man? I hope someone kicks you over the bar. Send him off, ref. Such behaviour deserves a straight red. Off, ref! Off! Well, that's it. The ref has finally lost patience and has blown up. What a pity, fight fans. These two great teams certainly have lessons to learn. Let us hope they spend less time shampooing their hair and more time practising their punches.
We might yet have a Championship worth the name. Join us next week, fight fans, when we will be in Páirc Uí Tai-Kwan-Do. Until then, keep it, GAA.