Ciaran’s Peculier [sic] Blog

Cavan was host to scenes of rowdiness and hooliganism on an unprecedented scale last week following the Derby five-a-slide game between Knockbride Knights and Ballyduff’s Museum Morons. A tense mood predominated throughout the first half but the trouble started at half time when Knockbride Knights’ striker (back after a prolonged illness) approached the Morons’ goal mouth and threw the contents of a small sack into it. These included animal bones, bird feathers, used toilet roll, as well as charred pieces of wood and scorched orange peel. Their deposition was accompanied by an incomprehensible diatribe delivered in a high-pitched effeminate voice. All of this was interpreted as witchcraft by the Morons, who surrounded the Knights’ man and gave him a good beating, causing him to shit himself visibly. His team mates ran to his assistance and a thoroughgoing melee ensued. Meanwhile fighting between rival fans has broken out in the terraces. A local garda attempted to separated the combatants but was hit by a sharp object thrown by the crowd in the groin. He was rendered unconscious but has since made a full recovery, though any plans he might have had about being a father have been dashed. Meanwhile local members of the Civil Defence, fire brigade and YMCA fired a mixture of tear gas and piss supplied by the County Council into the crowd, causing a rash of coughing and farting and setting off a stampede towards the toilets in which a number of people were injured. Later on the centre of Ballyduff resembled a war zone with rival gangs launching sporadic attacks on one another. A terrified resident who spoke on conditions of strict anonymity was certain as to what had provoked the trouble. “It’s all them fuckin farners an’ black bastards. Ya can’t even get a daysent plate o’ shite annymore here since the Percy French was closed.”

(It goes without saying that, like all reports of football matches in Cavan, I am not the author of the above but have filched it from its real author who will most definitely remain unknown.)

… Now whooze he gettin’ at there?