Ireland will not flourish with Farrell at the helm
IRELAND beat a shambolic Italy 48-10, and we learnt that under Andy Farrell, Ireland are functional and efficient, playing ‘Schmidt 2’ rugby of forward dominance and box kicking, but no innovative attacking moves from set pieces.
Italy were so bad that they were ignorant of basic offside rules and twice had players ahead of the kicker at the beginning of each half. Ireland were efficient and clinical up front, but an isolated solo run from a free by a forward was the nearest to an imaginative attacking ploy.
Farrell now seems yesterday’s man’ with yesterday’s tactics, and Ireland will be a competent, middle-of-the-road rugby nation with another World Cup campaign where we fail to advance to even a semi-final. To make a bad day worse, to hear the announcer present Ireland’s Call as our national anthem was annoying.
If anyone objects to our actual anthem, either pander to them and have no anthem at all, or tell them to get stuffed and play our real anthem.
JOHN P. KELLY, Clontarf, Dublin.
An unsightly scourge
BEING shocked is an understatement with regard to the amount of discarded rubbish on both sides of the road as I cycle out behind Errigal in Co. Donegal and back in the Muckish Road (most roads are in the same state if you look behind the hedges or into the drains).
It’s not as noticeable when you’re driving because your eyes are drawn to the mountains and especially the skyline, but by God, if you’re cycling or walking, you’re going to see it all.
Underwear, car parts, tyres, bale wrap and twine, council cones/ signage and every bit of household junk that you could possibly imagine. And if the hedge cutters are in operation from September to February, the nakedness of rubbish is exposed for all to see.
Someone suggested to me that while hedge-cutting and vegetation-clearing is in progress, a council lorry and a few workmen/ women (providing they have the required permit that allows them to lift rubbish) should be following to gather the rubbish before it is left to blow all over the place.
You would be killing two birds with the one stone by combining these activities, which could amount to a considerable saving to the council in the long term.
It’s difficult to generalise, but what state of mind does a person have to be in that they would think it OK to take bin bags from the house, put into the boot of a car, go for a drive, and then fire it into a drain on the side of a road at a time when there is little chance of them being seen?
Is it the excitement of doing something that’s against the law and not getting caught, or is it an ‘up yours’ to having any regard for health or the countryside where we live?
It certainly is the wrong way to reconnect with nature, and the fines being issued at present for intentional dumping don’t seem to work as a deterrent.
Better than any fixed penalty would be having to attend a weekly seminar where the damage caused by this dumping of rubbish to rivers, wildlife, etc could be explained to you in detail.
JAMES WOODS, Gort an Choirce, Dún na nGall.
Park problems
PUBLIC parks? All is changed, changed utterly. A terrible beauty has been born.
Once a haven of tranquillity and civilised behaviour, where one could amble in safety, accompany the kids on their bicycles, walk the dog or gossip with friends, is fast becoming a lawless danger zone similar to the badlands of New Mexico. The reason? A pandemic infestation of the dreaded, singleminded jogger, of all ages, shapes and sizes, ably assisted by Lycraclad aspiring Tour De France cyclists, and, bringing up the rear, the silent assassins – louts on motorised scooters, headphones in their ears, oblivious to anything in their path.
Yes, parks are there for every citizen, and most users are law-abiding and respectful of others. Alas a considerable sub-sector are not, and are a law unto themselves.
Joggers are of particular concern, their numbers swelled by the Covid-enforced closure of gyms. The gym bunnies, deprived of that adrenaline fix, now invade public green spaces en masse, believing they have prime rights over the land they pound, irrespective of any other users.
Obsessed with time-keeping, monitors strapped to arms, they sweatily pound up from behind, unwilling to break stride for a millisecond – other people are merely an annoying object in their way, and they elbow past, with a parting icy stare.
The two-wheeled MAMILs [middle-aged man in Lycra] behave in similar fashion but, moving faster, pose a greater danger.
They, too, don’t pause, just whizz past, without even the decency of a tinkle on the bell. Some little old dear, stepping two feet out of line, will be in nearer-my-God-to-thee territory, or obliterated.
The less said about upstanding louts on those infernal motorised scooters the better.
So, fancy a gentle walk with the dog in the park this weekend? If you must, you must.
But make sure your personal accident insurance is up to date and will cover a lengthy stay in hospital, if required.