Sir, – I almost stopped cheering for the London football team in the Connacht semi-final match when I heard their accents. I was pleased to hear that some of the best players had the mellifluous voices of Barnet and Balham, but less happy about those with accents ranging from Kerry to Derry. A few of them attempted a “cor blimey gov’ner” and a “knowwatImean” but they couldn’t hide their Irish brogue.
Never mind about us second generation Irish being called plastic Paddies, I want to have a heated debate about plastic Londoners! They come over here and get picked to play for the 33rd county for no other reasons but superior skill, fitness and knowledge of the game. I bet they don’t know even the words to our songs, “The Banks of My Own Lovely Thames” or even “Low Lie the Fields of Peckham Rye”.
Who are the FBI (foreign-born Irish) expected to play for if these newcomers are unreasonably and wantonly improving the standard of the team? But then my mum told me to whisht with all the talk of accents and plastics. The sound from our voice isn’t always the sound of our heart and sure aren’t we are all Irish anyhow? We are welcome over there and they are welcome here.
“There you go,” she said passing me Conor Counihan’s phone number. “you may not be good enough for the London team any more but you just might get into the Cork one”! – Yours, etc,
SEÁN O’DONOVAN,
Fore Street,
Edmonton,
London, England.