Go team, go!

This Sunday, while most of Ireland was closed and in church, I went to a semifinals Gaelic football and finals hurling game. It kind of reminds me of people skipping synagogue/church to go to an American football game back home on...Not going to mention any names, but you know who you are...Anyway, Gaelic football is different the regular European football, because you can not only kick the ball, but catch it or throw it with your hands. This creates a higher scoring game and more teamwork. In fact, there was so much teamwork that I was wondering if we could somehow get Irish sportsman to go over to the States and tell the American sportsman that teamwork is actually better for the team, and you win more often that way. Nobody tries to hog the ball or show off their individual skills.
Meanwhile, hurling is a mixture of lacrosse, baseball, and violence. The football was violent, some people "accidentally" tripping others, but in the hurling game, people hit each other with their sticks like barbarians, in a stylized manner, of course. It's very fast paced and the stick doesn't have a net, but a large pad. I saw a man catch a fastball with his bare hand. In both games, there were various medics coming onto the field a lot, while the other players (unless it was a grave injury) continued playing as if they didn't notice a man down and a doctor with a medical bag in the middle of the field. I guess this isn't like the army--people are left behind. Meanwhile, in the stands, people were civilized and fans of opposing teams sat next to each other. Even though Ireland is the drinking capital of Europe, at the stadium, people didn't seem to be drunk, as they realized they could focus on the game better when sober. And it didn't hurt that the President of the country was there for the hurling finals. All in all, I had a good time...almost.
I found out that stadium food is bad for you no matter which country you buy it in. After everyone else said that their hotdogs tasted unusual, I chose to have chicken nuggets and fries instead. The fries were bland, so I fed most of them to the pigeons. Twenty minutes post-meal, I started feeling sick and so did everyone else. I tried to hold out for the game, but during the last ten minutes (they actually follow the time here for games), I couldn't hold it any longer and had to rush to the bathroom to get sick. Missed the end of the football game. Then, in the middle of the hurling game, I felt sick again, and let me tell you, getting sick is hard work, because I was pooped afterwards. I could barely keep my eyes open and since some other people wanted to go home, I went home with them. It was pretty obvious that one team was going to win anyway, since they were up by so much.

My embarrassing story of the weekend:
On Sunday morning, I woke up at 5:00am and I was extremely hungry. So, I went to the kitchen and ate the following, by myself, too embarrassed to show myself to a roomie in the living room: three slices of turkey ham, a carrot, three teaspoons of peanut butter, two small yogurts, and an apple, I think. It was pretty unusual.

Other than that, life's the same here, including the weather, which hasn't gone over 65 the whole time here. Usually it feels like the 50s. And we're far north, so our days last really long. Anyhow, I have to go to bed, but talk to you later!

Cheers,
Hannah