I rolled out of bed the morning after the 2019 all-Ireland hurling final and felt like a champion. Isn’t it hilarious how we take ownership of the victory when we’ve done naught but cheer on the magnificent teams? In my case it was the victorious Tipperary hurling men. Who could blame me really when some of my lovely friends around the country were texting me their congratulations.
I sat on the edge of the bed and admired the view. The cows were in the plot next to the house. The cows in Tipperary were probably being turned in with enthusiasm to varied refrains of “Alone, all alone by the wave washed strand.”