Hurling: I'm basically an expert now

It's been suggested to me a few times before (here and here) that I should go to a hurling match while in Ireland (usually with the subtext "...to see what a real sport is"). I'm always up for new experiences, and anyway, I felt like I ought to see the game for myself after failed attempts by others to describe it. Surely it must be fantastical beyond description.

Allow me to narrate my experience, trying to paint hurling in all the glory it deserves.

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Realizing a few days ago that my days are numbered in Ireland (!), I hopped onto www.gaa.ie to find if the senior team from County Limerick might play next and if I could attend. I found that the Munster Region (kinda analogous to a US state) age 18-21 semi-finals would be this Wednesday night! Success! I gathered a few of my friends from the study abroad program, picked up tickets for 10 Euro each, and headed to Ennis (30 min NW of Limerick).

When we got there, people were swarming into a municipal stadium. And I parked super illegally (again) with hundreds of others parking violators before getting into line. One line was shorter and we asked the attendant if we could go there. She replied that as students, we could get 5 Euro back! Bargain shopping! We went in through a metal gate revolving door on the side and partook in a shady transaction. No really, it was shaded inside the concrete structure, and an attendant stepped out from the corner to give us monies. Hey, I wasn't gonna argue. (p.s. I'm still a student at Peking University!)

I wasn't sure how many people would be there, as this would be a junior division, but a Regional semi-final.  A whopping 7,257 people were in attendance!

At one point, a sliotar (leather ball) rolled from the field to the fence, and a group of boys--eager to capture a souvenir--worked and threaded the ball through the fence before finally emerging victorious.

The crowd consisted of a range of ages, and the boys showed up with their hurleys (paddle/sticks) as a badge, as if to say, "Yeah, I'm a hurler. No big deal."

photo credit: Sistania Mellina

Actually, I saw SO MANY little mini hurleys, toted around by the boys, and I saw that those who brought their hurlers ranged in age anywhere from 7 to.... 14. "But," I asked aloud, "what do the young men bring if they don't have their hurleys??" A quick look at the teenage group to our right enlightened me. "Ah. Their girlfriends."

We made friends with that group, which was especially useful because three of the young women in their group play camogie (a version of hurley played by women), and we needed commentary on the game.

Here's an illustrated guide:

First, points are accrued by passing the slionar (ball) into the H-shaped goal. If into the lower portion (like a soccer goal), it's worth three points. If into the upper portion (like a soccer field goal), it's worth one point.

Here are some things the hurley player can do to bring a goal to pass.
Catch the slionar by hand

Or intercept by hurley

Or scoop up by hurley

After which the player can take four steps (though not always enforced) before having to toss or bat the slionar to a team mate or to self.

Though not encouraged (and sometimes penalized) tackling "accidentally" occurs

In cases where such tackling leads to a foul, the player can take a golf-like whack at the slionar to get it into a goal, and the opposing team members stand guard in the lower goal.

Score was kept in a vintage score box, manually adjusted by a chap who also wanted to watch the game. 

In the end, our team County Clare ("An Clar" in Gaelic) won with 5-19 (34 points) agains Tipperary's 1-25 (28 points)! That means we... I mean the team... goes to Region Finals!

In summary, the layout of the game and movement of players is very similar to soccer, with points scored similarly to soccer and football. At times, the game has elements of baseball and golf, rugby, lacrosse, soccer, and football. But the Irish would point out the hurley has been played for 3000 years, so it came first! I did see one part of the game that didn't look like another sport, but it looked familiar when the player carried the slionar on his hurley while he ran towards the goal. What was it....

ah yes, an egg-and-spoon race!

Despite all of this comparing and contrasting among the sports, two experiences were common to what I've seen at many sporting venues in the States: upon entering the stadium, I saw a dad point to a corner of the wall and tell his kids, "If we get separated, we meet here, okay?"; and kids walking one direction with money in hand from parents, only to return in the other direction snarfing down candy.

BONUS: On our way back to Limerick, the GPS unit got confused and briefly sent us down a tiny country road for half a mile. No bother; adventure was to be had! We came upon a pasture with ten to 15 grazing cows. We rolled down the windows and let out some rich, deep "moooo"s. Recognizing kindred spirits, the cows looked up and literally galloped our way before one mooed back! I guess things I learned during those years growing up on a farm come in handy.

photo credit: Kevin Veloso