On The Cork Hurlers Strike
The best hurlers will not be playing for the Rebel County this year
At least not under coach Gerald McCarthy for Cork fans such sad news to hear
The Liam McCarthy Cup this year won't be coming to the hurling City by the Lee
Without Cork's best hurling only half dressed as hurling fans all would agree
Cork hurling fans not very happy to them hurling more than a game
Some blame the hurlers and others blame Gerald and others the County Board blame
Gerald has no notion of resigning and Cork's best under him will not play
And the loser is the game of hurling and that does seem a sad thing to say
Cork will have a hurling team in the League and All Ireland Championship but their best the red jersey will not wear
And for any hope of sporting success as we do know a team would need every top player
And in 2009 Cork will only make up the numbers though the game of hurling will go on
For hurling does live on in Ireland though great players to and from the game have come and gone
In 2009 Cork will not have their best team at least now it's looking that way
In a sad time for Cork and for hurling in Ireland and that seems a sad thing to say.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On The 09 All Ireland Football Final
For the Cork Gaelic Footballers another humbling defeat
By their neighbours Kerry in Croke Park once more they've been beat
In Gaelic Football in Ireland Kerry to the fore
With 36 All Ireland titles and their fans hoping for more.
My mum was from Kerry that I cannot deny
But why it aches me when Cork lose a big game I do wonder why?
Though long absent from Ireland a sense of parochialism I do retain
Some-things from our past always with us do remain.
But Kerry fans with their 09 All Ireland victory need not get carried away
As their hurlers are quite poor though that does seem a sad thing for to have to say
Like Kilkenny Ireland's premier hurling County Kerry G A A rankings low
The lowest even in Munster as all G A A fans do know.
For the Liam Mcarthy Cup Kerry Hurlers never allowed for to play
For that not deemed to be good enough by the administrators of the G A A
Like the Kilkenny Footballers Kerry Hurlers amongst the lowly rate
Though their many Football victories their fans have to celebrate.
Kerry are 09 All Ireland Senior Football Champions their neighbours Cork they did outplay
In Croke Park in Dublin Ireland on September's third sunday
But Cork the only winners of the Hurling and Football double for them an amazing feat
With Ireland best Football and Hurling Counties at the highest level do compete.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Christy Ring
I'll tell you about a great hurler he hurled his way into renown
And his fame spread distant from Cork City through many a village and town
He inspired the poets to write of him and the song writers his praises did sing
And he was the hurler of all Seasons the one and only Christy Ring.
He was born in the year nineteen twenty and he died in nineteen seventy nine
And he played from the thirties until the late sixties and as he aged he matured like good wine
He won eighteen Railway cup medals a record that will never be beat
Yet he was a down to earth fellow a man who was free of conceit.
Of him there has been many stories his imprint in hurling he made
As long as hurling is played he will be remembered for the many great games that he played
In Cork, Limerick, Thurles and Killarney and in Dublin in famed Croke Park
In his three marvellous decades of hurling the wizard from Cloyne left his mark.
When I was a boy in the fifties Christy Ring in his mid thirties then
Yet still one of Ireland's best hurlers he helped Cork and Glen Rovers to many a win
He revelled in fierce competition and even in his forties played against the best
And he always worried his opponents the hurler who always impressed.
The Cork and the Glen Rovers wizard his fame spread beyond Ireland's shore
his name will live as long as the game of hurling and that will be forever more
He inspired the poets to write of him and the song writers of him did sing
And he was the hurler of all Seasons the legendary Christy Ring.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Setanta O Hailpin
He played hurling for Cork just a few years ago
And as an an Aussie Rules footballer his legend now grow
He now plays full back for Carlton for him a remarkable feat
Young Setanta O Hailpin is an amazing athlete,
Truth is stranger than fiction some are known to say
And in Setanta's case it does seem that way
A top hurler who has become a top player in Australian rules football
What did seem impossible not impossible at all,
The hurler who made it playing Australian Rules Football
In decades from now sports writers will recall
To the young man from Cork credit is only due
He followed his dream and his dream did come true
And though such a fairy tale story may not happen again
A huge loss to Cork hurling is the Carlton's Blues gain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Ahane's Own Mick Mackey
In his Limerick had a name to celebrate
Ahane's own Mick Mackey was a hurling great
Assured of his place in Hurling's Hall of Fame
In death as in life his a legendary name.
So many great hurlers the way of time have gone
But the legend of Mackey destined to live on
He is proclaimed to be the best of his time
And he must have been great when he was in his prime.
Mick Mackey the hurler broad shouldered and strong
The man who was honoured in story and song
He inspired Limerick to many a marvellous victory
And very few hurlers were as great as he.
He was never found wanting when put to the test
Ahane's own Mick Mackey he was Limerick's best
One of the famed Mackeys the legendary Mick
He weaved hurling magic with his caman stick.
Of his prowess of a great scoring forward he left none in doubt
And when hurling people talk of great hurlers his name is never left out
And though from the land of the living he may be long gone
As a hurling legend his name will live on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Cormac Dinneen
They wanted him in Kerry to play with their football team
But Cormac he loved Millstreet and he wore their famous green
And he too wore the red Cork jersey with passion and with pride
A legend in his playing days and he was known far and wide.
I watched him play as a veteran when he was past his prime
Way back in the late fifties some forty years in time
Against one ten years younger he more than held his own
A marvellous defender then one of the finest known.
The Millstreet fans they loved him a player they did revere
He never shirked a challenge a stranger to all fear
He never was found wanting when he was put to the test
And in the Cork County colours he played against the best.
When Millstreet's elder gaelic football fans talk of the Millstreet greats they've seen
A player they always mention is the great Cormac Dinneen
To them he was one of Millstreet's best and they still heap upon him praise
For he was one of their heroes in Millstreet's glory days.
And though time catch up on everyone and the years have made him slow
He was a Cork and Millstreet great some fity years ago
And in forty eight when Millstreet won the County he lived up to his name
As one of Ireland's best defenders then in the Gaelic football game.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Mick Cashman
In the Cork County Senior Football Championship Final of 1957 I still recall the day
The last time I see Mick Cashman for his home club Millstreet Play
At the Cork Athletic grounds that day the Duhallow men were beat
The City Club St Finbarrs proved too good for Millstreet.
The Barrs fans celebrated the victory was sweet
But Mick Cashman played a great game he was gallant in defeat
In the biggest day in Cork County for the game of Gaelic Football
And though Millstreet lost to go that far they did well overall.
Mick Cashman was ordained a priest and for New Zealand he was bound
Far from Millstreet in Duhallow and Tullig his home ground
In the green and gold of Millstreet he was never seen again
But what was a loss to Ireland was surely New Zealand's gain.
Mick Cashman was a gentleman and of him 'twould be fair to say
That to help out other people he went out of his way
A Parish Priest in New Zealand where he was known far and wide
And his success in his adopted Country to Millstreet a sense of pride.
He is buried in New Zealand far south and far away
From Tullig above Millstreet Town where he first saw light of day
Last saw him in a Cork County Final for Millstreet playing Gaelic Football
A good memory till my own end that I surely will recall.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On Hearing A Song For Christy Ring
Amazing how a song can stir up memories
And only lately heard a ballad singer sing
A famous song written by Brian McMahon
For Ireland's greatest hurler Christy Ring.
He was known as the Cork and Glen Rovers wizard
And he depicted the spirit of the Glen
And what set Ring apart from all the others
Was that he had in him this great desire to win.
Eighteen Railways cups and eight All Ireland medals
The record of his combined medal tally stand
He played for Cork when he was in his forties
And held his own with the best in Ireland
For the St Nicholas club Christy Ring played Gaelic Football
And at football many better one could name
But he only played because of club devotion
As hurling always was his preferred game.
But 'twas for Gaelic football Christy Ring I will remember
And that incident from the fifties I recall
In Macroom when the St Nicholas team played Millstreet
In a game that ended in an all in brawl.
A brawl that involved both sets of supporters
For Gaelic football 'twas a shameful day
And for the punch up both sides blamed each other
And who is wrong or right who is to say
And on that day Christy Ring met with misfortune
In an incident that few if any saw
And the next morning we read in the sporting headlines
How Ring was suffering from a broken jaw.
Some said a Millstreet fellow king hit Christy
But others seemed to think that wasn't so
That by a famed Cork hurler Ring's jaw had been broken
An old score settled on that day years ago.
And what happened back then to this day still a mystery
Nor is it likely now that we will ever know
When perhaps only two knew the late Christy Ring the victim
And the angry man who landed that fierce blow.
Amazing how a song can stir up memories
And only lately heard a ballad singer sing
A famous song written by Brian McMahon
For Ireland's greatest hurler Christy Ring.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Remember The Time
I remember the time when the Gaelic Footballers of Millstreet
In the Cork County Senior Championship for the best were a hard team to beat
But time does bring change as some like to say so
And that is going back a few decades ago.
Nowadays with Duhallow's best junior footballers Millstreet cannot compete
The downturn for them one can say is complete
But in sport as in life few things stay the same
And Gaelic Football after all is only a game.
The glory days for Millstreet Gaelic Football may be gone
But in the Town in view of Clara life as usual goes on
Though Millstreet glory days in sport Millstreet people like to recall
There is far more to life than Gaelic Football.
Of the North Cork Gaelic Football Clubs Millstreet were to the fore
And against the County's best they often kicked a winning score
And though no Gaelic Senior Football team in Millstreet today
Life as usual goes on in the Town far away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Just Some Names Of Sports Legends
The G A A fans have their own heroes of for to sing
In Gaelic Football Mick O Connell in Hurling Christy Ring
In Boxing Sugar Ray Robinson knew of Worldwide fame
And Babe Ruth's lives on as a great Baseball name
In Soccer Maradona and Pele and George Best
Were never found to be wanting when put to the test
And in Tennis Maureen Connolly the legendary Little Mo
The greatest of her time six decades ago
The A F L fans have Leigh Matthews for to talk about
Their game's greatest player though that not without doubt
And golf has Norman, Nicklaus, Woods, Watson and Gary Player
Of their game's major honours they took the lion's share
And athletics have Nurmi and Zatopek, Owens and Flo Jo
Legends that most sports fans of surely would know.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Desist From It
Insults do not help in friendship,
Insults do not help in love,
And, insults do not win power! !
So desist from hurling insults at each other;
Because it betrays the trust of the people!
Source,
In the area;
Fingers,
In his or her room;
Complaints,
And to bring them closer to the assembly! !
But hurling insults at each other betrays the trust of the people.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Boyhood Sporting Hero
Most boys have their sporting heroes and mine played Gaelic Football
The mighty Mick O Connell the greatest I recall
But Mick O played for Kerry and Cork my favourite team
And to play football good as him was many school boy's dream
The finest Gaelic Footballer that I have ever seen
Not rough or hard in any way but classical and clean
And though that was many years ago and far so far away
Of great player from Valentia the memory with me stay.
When Mick O's playing days were over he faded from the scene
But memories of his playing feats will remain evergreen
His high fielding and kicking and his passing of the ball
The complete Gaelic Footballer the greatest of them all.
He never hogged the limelight he seemed so quiet and shy
But he was sporting hero to many school going boy
And even many who did not support Kerry will still tell you today
That Valentia's Mick O Connell was the best they had seen play.
My hero played for Kerry and Cork my favourite team
And to be good a player as him an early teenage dream
But as a Gaelic Footballer I never made the grade
And I won't be remembered for any game I played.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Back There In Millstreet County Cork
Back there in Millstreet County Cork the frosted fields are gray
And old Clara wears his hat of snow on this cold January day
And cattle in the farmyard shed are bellowing for hay
Back there in Millstreet County Cork far north and far away.
Through old fields west of Millstreet Town the Finnow bank high flow
Through Inchaleigh, Coomlogane and Claragahatlea by many a bare hedgerow
Robins, blackbirds and sparrows by back door eat crumbs of bread
Before the Spring for them some hard and hungry times ahead.
Back there through Millstreet County Cork harsh winds of January blow
The days and nights are wet and cold quite cold enough to snow
In Duhallow I was born and raised though far from there I may die
And that I still feel nostalgia for the place of that why should I lie.
Back there in Millstreet County Cork the wintery winds blow chill
Across the bleak unsheltered face of Clara's bracken hill
And on the high fields by the hill beneath a darkened sky
The hungry fox out hunting utters forth a wild shrill cry.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Denny Long Of Annagloor
A two time All Star Gaelic Footballer about him he inspired many a song
The pride of Cork and Millstreet the marvellous Denny Long
Arguably Ireland's finest midfielder when he was in his prime
The memory of his greatness will not fade out in time.
His great positional sense and accurate kicking was a pleasure to behold
And the story of his rise to fame it often has been told
From Annagloor to Croke Park he made it all the way
The cheers rang out for Denny on All Ireland Football Final day.
A Gaelic Football legend of the seventies the years have left him slow
But he was quite a hero some three decades ago
So stylish and athletic Sportsmen like him are rare
And with the best in Ireland he surely do compare.
It was a privilege to have seen him play he was a credit to the game
All Irelands, All Stars and County Championship medals and one who knew great fame
His lengthy and accurate kicking his great useage of the football
A great player the Gaelic Football fans remember and recall.
He reached heights in Gaelic Football that only few attain
And though his better days behind him the memories remain
Of Denny Long of Annagloor a Gaelic Football great
He often gave us reason for to cheer and celebrate
poem by Francis Duggan
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Rue Family
April makes no difference
to the Lavalle cork tree
imported from central Japan;
to the Sakhalin cork,
its diamond bark
rising into branches
from a trunk of plated sand.
In the city park, this family of trees
wears its rue as buds
traveled into leaf each year—
predictably, invisibly,
as your sister wears hers
on a South Dakota highway:
there behind her knee, tempering
the air above her hand.
poem by Christina Pugh
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Paddy Casey
When Paddy Casey left the Clara road forever
The feeling was widespread he would be back
For he could never be happy in heaven
If heaven did not have a greyhound track.
Three times a week to Cork track he did journey
From Inchaleigh just out of Millstreet Town
Sometimes through Macroom and sometimes on the narrow high road
That winds along by Mushera up and down.
I doubt that he could feel happy in heaven
If he could not watch two greyhounds course a hare
In January at the Millstreet Coursing Meeting
In the Town Park I fancy he's still there.
He is one I still remember Paddy Casey
I knew him since I was a five year old
He was a cheerful and kindhearted fellow
And you well might say he had a 'heart of gold'.
I recall his renowned track bitch Rainbow Lady
Duhallow's fastest greyhound in her prime
At Cork track she won many open races
And bettered thirty seconds every time.
He had so many friends around Cork County
And the feeling was widespread he would be back
For Paddy could not be happy in heaven
If heaven did not have a greyhound track.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sinking
You're on a wide open ocean
No one around you for miles
You're thinkin' of drinkin' on water
While you're sailing the Nile
No one to stop you on your way
Flyin' by goes a stork
You decide to bring your oars in now
But accidently knock out the cork
Row your boat to shore
'Cause it is leaking and you're still drinking
Unless you cork the hole
You won't be sailing
song performed by by No Doubt from No Doubt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Independent Man
Now who could take you off to tiny life
In one room or in two rooms or in three
And cork you smartly, like the flask of wine
You are? Not any woman. Not a wife.
You'd let her twirl you, give her a good glee
Showing your leaping ruby to a friend.
Though twirling would be meek. Since not a cork
Could you allow, for being made so free.
A woman would be wise to think it well
If once a week you only rang the bell.
poem by Gwendolyn Brooks
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Emerald Isle
The Emerald Isle
Sailing into Cork I saw green hills, the sea was jade,
I understood why Ireland was called the emerald island.
On the sheer slopes sheep grazed; chancers I thought
the slightest slip and they will fall into verdant waters.
Why not graze on the plateau be happy with modest
fodder if not as succulent as grass too unsafe to get at?
Sheep do fall sometimes they are rescued by a passing
voracious fishing vessels, and end up as Irish stew.
Cork was pretty port it had a no hasty feel back then,
it became a busy place ignoring the hazardous slopes,
but holy is economic progress, lush living for everyone.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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She Wrote About Our Mother.
She wrote about our mother and it took me far away
And many, many years in time back home to Claraghatlea
And as I read her letter I fought to choke the tears
For Millstreet, Cork and Ireland and happy childhood years.
She wrote about our mother long under Tanyard soil
And memories flooded back to me of one with ready smile
Of woman who worked hard for us for no reward or pay
The heroine of our childhood years of happy by gone day.
She wrote about our mother with sense of love and pride
And memories flooded back to me and tears welled up inside
For one who done her best for us her very best she tried
And I still feel she is with us her spirit never died.
A letter from my sister in east Rockaway in New York
Reminding me of childhood years in Millstreet County Cork
She wrote about our mother whose passing left a void
And memories flooded back to me and tears welled up inside.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The destroyer Cork, like the useful hero for whom it is named, will be game to the last.
quote by Josephus Daniels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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