The Terenure Dirigibles
|The Terenure Dirigibles. Oils on canvas 10" x 12"|
Meandering about a field on the off-chance that a very lethal ball might fly your way sometime in the next week just didn't do it for me. However, now I've gotten older, I can see the attraction more and I wouldn't mind standing on a grassy surface for a few hours -and then retiring to a clubhouse for a beer. Or I could just go for a beer.
I don't single out cricket for a mild ribbing due to any particular dislike; I see all sports the same way. I realise that this is probably why I'm shunned by society; it's hard to be with a crowd of Jeremy Clarksons in a pub and have to ask them which sport they're talking about, about an hour into the conversation.
“Huzzah for Terenure, O land of beige and taupe,Our genetic ability for dirigibility, And hiding our money beneath the soap"
Sport always generates an inordinate amount of seriousness, and a serious amount of hot air. It's worse than art. Many people seem to have an almost religious observance of the details and forms of sport. And an unlimited capacity for reeling out sporting anecdotes about events dating back to the 12th Century.
Mostly, though, the media and advertising seems to be pathetically obsessed with sport and what it thinks it'll do for sales figures -hence, those fantastically overwrought TV introductions to sporting events that scream excitement, excitement, excitement! Then they get some elite sports star, who's the personification of derring-do on the field of play, to endorse a product, only to have them drone through their script in a monotone, passionless manner. God knows how they think this will help them link sporting élan to car insurance or National Cement in the minds of the public. I always think of the poor creative directors of many of these ads whose dreams are broken on the wheel of sports-star dullness. It always makes me smile. Thank you sport, for making me smile.
The above painting will be showing in Terenure Sports Club's Culture Night event on Friday 18th September. That's this Friday, folks.