Every day
This week’s ‘Top 10 things our ancestors (for all the hardship they endured) never had to say’:
‘Any word on the figures yet?’
‘Oh God, I’m after leaving the mask in the car’
‘You’d miss wet pubs, all the same’
‘Sure I’ll be Zooming you’
‘That’s a handy looking ladder, I must buy one for when the GAA returns’
‘It’s the 21st of January, it’ll soon be time to take the decorations down’
‘I’m going to work…in the next room’
‘Did you get a ticket for Mass?’
‘I’ll chat to you…through the window’
‘That bloody WI-FI!’
Friday/Saturday
As the Late Late Show limps towards a rather undistinguished demise, the nation continues to embrace the unlikely runaway success of the Tommy Tiernan Show. Maybe viewing/advertising revenue figures don’t reflect this change yet – the Late Late is still a formidable big beast – but change is happening!
I don’t wish to be hard on Ryan Tubridy, but really, the show’s format is now weak and predictable, and the host – excellent on the Toy Show – is becoming more and more patronising on regular Friday nights. The contemporary Late Late diet of Misery TV, and the misguided if well meaning commitment to Covid coverage in recent months, is doing nothing to salvage its reputation. Frankly, I was appalled by the almost voyeuristic interview with boxing champion Barry McGuigan, who broke down when speaking about his grief over his daughter’s death.
In contrast, Tommy Tiernan – some minor quibbles aside – is a refreshing, indeed brilliant revelation as chat show host.
I’ve written here before about the power and effectiveness of listening. A deeply respectful willingness to listen, combined with very thoughtful questions and a transparent interest in his guests, makes Thoughtful Tommy a marvellous host.
On Saturday night, he jousted with Bashir Otukoya, Senator David Norris and Brenda Fricker. For once, Norris (through no fault of his) was the least fascinating. Otukoya, a young ‘Assistant Professor of Law’, was an eloquent and deceptively combative guest with sobering views on racism in Ireland. Fricker, meanwhile, is enigmatic and intriguing. The Oscar winning actress spoke of suffering from depression and her life of relative solitude, before suddenly recounting some hilariously deadpan showbiz stories. Best line? When Tommy asked where her Oscar (won for her role in My Left Foot) is, she responded: “It’s holding my bathroom door open”. And, given her slight eccentricity, it’s very clear she wasn’t kidding!
It was obvious that Tommy was totally charmed and fascinated by Brenda (as were viewers). Yet again, Thoughtful Tommy had mined something memorable from a guest.
Sunday
All over the world, they rose early (or on time at least). In their millions, they descended from the mountain tops, deep into the valleys, or anywhere there were televisions (or vice versa in the event that there was a better reception in houses high in the mountains).
Anyways, my point is, there was huge interest in today’s big game between Liverpool and Manchester United.
The hype was entirely understandable. There’s very little live sport on these days, and fans are grateful that the Premier League is continuing. Meanwhile, United’s impressive run of form has suddenly rekindled the long-standing rivalry between two of the most famous clubs in the world.
The match didn’t live up to expectations – it was chess-like, when viewers were crying out for action and drama. The man or woman in the VAR room could have read a book. There was some very decent interplay by both sides, but little goalmouth action. Liverpool dominated possession, but United had the two best scoring chances.
Later, it was (I suspect) sobering for fans of both clubs when they saw Manchester City storm the (Crystal) Palace. A great title race looms (Leicester and Spurs are in the hunt too). A reinvigorated Manchester City suddenly look to be the team to beat.
Monday
Listening to the radio, and yet another Have-it-Both-Ways opposition TD ‘debating’ the pandemic with a current affairs presenter. Many opposition TDs are of course taking a responsible position; others are playing politics – and revelling in it. With the more opportunist TDs from around the country, the conversation usually goes something like this:
Presenter: ‘Good afternoon…’
Opportunist opposition TD: ‘Actually, technically it’s still morning, or if it is afternoon, the Government should have made that clear…’
Presenter: ‘Are you glad there are plans to reopen schools for children with special needs?’
Opportunist opposition TD: ‘It’s chaos! There’s been no consultation!’
Presenter: ‘But the Minister HAS been speaking to the unions…’
Opportunist opposition TD: ‘Yes, but there’s a lack of clarity. And she needs to speak to people on the ground…teachers, principals, parents…’
Presenter: ‘If the unions agree to teachers coming in, do you agree to schools opening?’
Opportunist opposition TD: ‘Only if it’s entirely safe for everyone’.
Presenter: ‘What would YOU do if you were in Government?’
Opportunist opposition TD: ‘I’d have put plans in place months’ ago!’
Presenter: ‘Well, you must be pleased with the vaccine roll-out?’
Opportunist opposition TD: ‘No, it’s too slow!’
Presenter: ‘Well, you surely accept these are unprecedented times…that nobody could have foreseen this pandemic?’
Opportunist opposition TD: ‘The Government should expect the unexpected! And did I mention Irish Water? And Golfgate?’
Presenter: ‘We have to leave it there…’
Opportunist opposition TD: ‘You can’t! I still haven’t used the words ‘scandal’ or ‘shambles’ or…’
Presenter: ‘Okay, last word, in a word!’
Opportunist opposition TD: ‘It’s like something out of Father Ted!’
(Repeat ad nauseam until all listeners eventually fall asleep)
Recently…
Every now and again, in this column or in our sports section, I refer to my days as a sports reporter in Cavan. This prompted a reader, Edmund Coyle (based in Athlone), to get in touch.
“Paul…re: your reporting days covering games in Cavan in the 1980s. Even then you felt there was a harking among the crowds for the glory days of great Cavan teams. In the 1980s, I worked in Dublin. I got my ‘education’ in GAA there. There must have been someone still in Dublin reliving those great days of Cavan football. This chap may have been present when Cavan won their All-Irelands in the ‘40s.
“The man, a true blue Cavan man, was regaling anyone in the pub who’d listen to him all about Cavan football. It got so long into the night that the Gardai arrived. Not a bit fazed, our football expert was still in full flow. To show everyone how good Cavan footballers were, he clasped one of the guard’s caps into his two hands, kicked it up and over into the far end of the bar to show them ‘how John Joe Reilly would score a point’. The story’s end – or whether the Gardai prosecuted – is not known!”
