Depending on what sport you follow, St Patrick’s Day can mean different things.
For the die-hard GAA man, the club finals take over, but if you’re fond of the oval ball, the Schools’ Cup finals are your chance to see some of the potential stars of the future.
The senior finals in Munster, Leinster and Ulster all take place this afternoon, while the Connacht decider is tomorrow in the Showgrounds.
You see a lot of the same types of individuals at a Schools’ Cup final, so for those of you who have never been before, we’ve profiled some of the characters you’re likely to meet.
The proud parents
And why wouldn’t they be? Their young lad is only playing rugby in front of thousands of fans, for a cup he’s dreamed of lifting since day one of first year. The mum’s will be easy to spot by their clothes – nothing flashy – with a fine winter coat being the preferred choice of a Senior Cup mother. The one with the most expensive looking coat, well, she’ll be the mother of the captain. She couldn’t be presenting him the cup in her Monday to Friday anorak, could she? As for Dad, he’ll play it cool, although you’ll probably see him wearing a scarf of the school’s colours, which he’s probably kept since his own days there.
The Senior Cup historian
He may only be in his mid-twenties, but this knowledgeable chap will spend the entirety of the match reminding you just how much he knows about the cup. He’ll cod you with stories about the best that never was, and talk wistfully about the all-conquering Blackrock teams who won six in a row at the turn of the century. No, not that century, the 20th. His grandparents weren’t even born, but who cares?
The club rugby fan
He looks on in contempt at the thousands flowing through turnstiles, lamenting how there was just 100-odd punters down in the club last Saturday afternoon to see his mid-table Division Two side grind out a 10-7 win against some side from the midlands. He’ll criticise these teenagers at will for every dropped pass, missed tackle or wayward kick. Strangely enough, you’re likely to find him sitting next to his good friend, Mr Senior Cup historian, who dragged along this non-believer in the hope of conversion.
The giggling teenage girls
If a group of five or six teenage girls sit anywhere near you before the match, get up and find a new seat. This group are probably all students in the all-girls school, so the chance to socialise with buachaillà their own age is a huge part of the St Patrick’s Day celebrations. Their only contribution to rugby is the fiver they pay to the provincial branch to get through the gate. Likely to be found sitting near this next group…
The beaten semi-finalists
It’s been a week since they were defeated in agonising circumstances, and they’ve recently reneged on their promise to never watch another game of rugby as long as they live. In between complaining that they could have done better themselves and talking of how the referee screwed them out of it, they’ll find consolation in the group of giggling teenage girls (see above) to flirt their way through the game if it’s a stinker.
The shy first and second years
If you are in a mixed school, the most difficult part of generating the cup atmosphere is getting the junior students involved. They’re shy and self conscious, and if they make a tit out of themselves in front of the girls they’ll have to live with it for another six years. Not to be confused with…
The insane first and second years
They don’t have to worry about what the girls will think, they’re in an all-boys school. They’re young, hopped up on sugar, and among their kind. They’ll belt out the songs until their last breath, and their fans’ section of the ground looks like something like a Curva at an Italian football stadium, only more intimidating.
The past pupils
He may have grown a spare tyre around his waist since he first pulled on that SCT jersey back in 1998, but he’s bringing it back out, bulge and all for the big occasion. He’ll stand near his alma mater’s supporters in the ground, close enough that he feels like he’s part of the crowd again, not close enough that people think he’s having a midlife crisis.
The team mascots
Whether it’s boiler suits, giant furry costumes, or body paint (yeah, that was me), the support will always be drawn up by a group of devoted pupils. Some take the gung-ho approach, belting out the songs as loud as they can, while others go into stealth mode, placing other mascots around the fringes of the pack of supporters, giving the shy first and second years (see above) no option but to get involved. Cheering is easy, and often times just boils down to the presence of girls in each school. An all-boys’ school against a mixed school? Simple, “X girls are easy, Z girls are…”. A mixed school against a boys’ school? Even simpler, “We’ve got girls in our school, we’ve got…”. These chants are older than the trophies themselves.
The sulking reserve
He’s sitting away from his team’s support with a face like a dog that’s just licked piss off a nettle. He missed a crucial tackle in the semi-final, and he’s now been bumped from the teamsheet by the guy that who isn’t particularly good, but never misses training. Even if they win, he’ll barely break a smile. If he isn’t getting a medal, why should he care who wins?
