When exactly do they hurl?
I found myself in middle-of-nowhere Ireland on April 5th and April 7th. Wonderful you say? Not when it’s 1:30 am last Monday and nobody within a 100-mile radius knows who’s playing in the NCAA championship. The game wasn’t broadcast in any pub (and Ireland has more than its fair share of those) or on any radio station, and nobody I asked had ever heard of "final 4" or "NCAA". And thanks, genius, but I was nowhere near an internet café. The next day there were two guys wearing Kansas sweatshirt walking around the Cliffs of Moher – I have no idea how they got there – and I practically attacked them trying to find out who won. Granted my enthusiasm was partially driven by my desire to know if my bracket was alive, but still. Ridiculous.
What I did discover in my unsuccessful hunt for basketball info was that the Irish value their national Gaelic games more than both American sports (obviously) and more than soccer, the golden game of all that is European. Though they seemed strange at first, Gaelic sports have more in common with American sports than you think. Take Hurling for example. Big men run around in short shorts and tight tops swinging long sticks at a tiny ball. It’s much like a bunch of professional wrestlers playing field hockey with a golf ball. Without pads.

And they say the Irish do nothing but drink. Charlie Weis, still looking for a first string?
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[…] Thorsonette was in Ireland and finding out that nobody knew nor cared of what sporting competition she was speaking: The game wasn’t broadcast in any pub (and Ireland has more than its fair share of those) or on any radio station, and nobody I asked had ever heard of “final 4″ or “NCAA”. And thanks, genius, but I was nowhere near an internet café. The next day there were two guys wearing Kansas sweatshirts walking around the Cliffs of Moher – I have no idea how they got there – and I practically attacked them trying to find out who won […]