The old sweeping lady, bamboo brush in hand, wrinkled her
nose and screwed up her eyes in confusion as the ball rolled to halt at her
feet. After scrutinising it for a while, she looked up at the odd bunch of
players running up and doing peculiar things with said balls. A few seconds
sufficed for her to take it in, shake her head, laugh and gingerly toe punt the
ball back onto the pitch before carrying on her way.
This is a fairly common reaction of the locals who swing by this particular pitch in the public Happy Valley park late on in the day of a Thursday or Sunday. It’s where the more niche gweilo sports go to practice. Aussie rules. American football.
And Gaelic football.
As some readers will know, this is a game I have a pedigree with. I discovered it at university via Irish friends. A mishmash (though pre-dating I think) of football, rugby and basketball, I think it’s a fantastic sport to play.
Plus, it’s my back door route to being able to say, “Oh yeah, I played for my uni at 3 sports”. I omit to mention that it was at 3 sports where they physically had just enough players to play at all, and I was ‘OK’ to ‘rubbish’ every one – Aussie Rules (we got stuffed by Oxford. My contribution was almost zero); hurling (a genuinely terrifying experience. I contributed nothing at all); Gaelic football (where I played a minor part in a few British Uni tournaments).
It’s an act I have reprised in Hong Kong. I discovered the HK club just 4 weeks ago from some hashers who ran wearing ‘Malaysia’ Gaelic football tops, and told me HK had a club too. And by Saturday, I found myself running out onto a rutted, bare-patch riddled pitch in China to make my international (haha) debut for the Hong Kong Gaelic Dragons against the GAA titans of Shenzhen.
A meteoric rise. How did I do it? Did I dazzle with my natural skill and ability after a 7-year career break? And they said, “Wow, that Paddy Turner, we simply must get him to pull on a jersey as soon as we can”* Nah.
Same old trick as uni. The match was almost called off due to lack of players; so I jumped at the chance. The captain was clear that literally anyone, even someone who had never seen the game before, would have got a game.
But that’s not what it’ll say on the record. To my ‘3 uni sports caps’ and ‘3 international cricket caps’ (against that renowned cricketing nation, Estonia), I can add ‘1 cap for the Hong Kong SAR’…
How did the Dragons do? Did we roast the upstarts from across the border? In a word – no. They did the slaying, and we lost narrowly. But taking the positives - I didn’t disgrace myself. I actually played all right. It could be one of my few first team caps, as it gets serious later in the year and the real players, you know, start attending games and stuff.
That won’t mean, though, that I won’t get a game for the Hong Kong 3rd
GAA side at the all Asia Championships, where I envisage our run will be ended at
a disappointingly early stage in one of the minor trophies they set up for the
pants teams (the bowl maybe?) to some powerhouse of the game. Like Bhutan,
maybe…
*Actually, most
of my first conversations with the other (great fun and welcoming) GAA lads have
actually gone like this:
Them: Ah,
here, so you’re Paddy then, are you?
Me: Yes, hi,
good to meet you
Them: [confused that I don’t sound like a Paddy,
even though I’m wearing a gaelic top] Oh! Right. So you’ve got Irish
parents there have you?
Me: Er, no…
Them: Ah so,
you grew up in Ireland did you? What county are you?
Me: Oh erm [conscious of how English I sound, but desperate not to start empathy-talking in a Irish accent],
no county actually, didn’t grow up there…I just, erm, started playing at uni.
Them: Right,
I see. [with facial expression that
suggests they don’t see. At all]
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