Turning to CNN again and taking sneaky beach walks

Liam Maloney on how he is taking the painful absence of live, local sport in his stride

WEDNESDAY: JANUARY 6

I WRAP up the first issue of 2021 by listening to remixes of Alice in Chains songs from their astonishing (and finest) album, Dirt.

I was first introduced to Alice in Chains by a fellow student on IT Sligo’s social studies course in the mid-90s. He was from Mayo, wore a leather jacket and (I think) he was a former drug user. Since then a lot more Mayo folk have turned to drugs, apparently, in order to numb the pain of All-Ireland final losses. Years later, that album by Alice in Chains still holds its raw, melodic power.

When watching United lose to City of Multiple Midfield Passers, I was both annoyed and pleased. Angry at how United conceded such a lousy opening goal and yet relatively pleased that for parts of the game they were reasonably good, without turning the screw.

I followed up United’s semi-final loss by watching two horror films, back-to-back: It Chaper One and It Chapter Two. Both were splendid viewing – from the book by the master of horror, Stephen King – with the only drawback being that such a marathon took me well into the small hours of Thursday.

THURSDAY: JANUARY 7

I WOKE up, later than usual given the previous night’s It-fest, to the sounds of the CNN crews setting up again. Herself, fully absorbed in the coverage of fallout from the TNWT (Trump Numpties Washington Takeover), is more prepared for additional media guests this time – there is extra food and space, unlike when CNN last visited our abode for the US Presidential Election.

While – thankfully – we have no comparable version of Trump’s mob descending on Capitol Hill here in Ireland, I’d imagine a gentler version would be thousands of Mayo fans thronging Castlebar’s streets if the green and red finally manage to win the Sam Maguire Cup.

But it looks like Mayo, because of recent retirements, will have to get other players out of retirement in order to field a Senior XV in 2021 – expect Willie Joe Padden, Eugene MacHale, ex-taoiseach Enda Kenny and Ciarán McDonald to be togging out for our neighbours later this year. Despite the Level 5 restrictions on movement, I put on an essential hat

(it was cold, too) and brought bags of groceries to my mum.

En route we stopped at a beach in [REDACTED] and let the dogs run riot (metaphorically speaking). It was winter fresh. The choppy sea was a beast of rolling, intimidating waves – snarling foamy bites at the shivering, sandy shore.

FRIDAY: JANUARY 8

I SPENT part of the day protesting in the house. My stance is part political, part ecological and mostly illogical. Although I despise the Christmas tree and won’t have anything to do with it being set up in mid-December, I later grow to like it and despair when it must be folded up and put back in its long, narrow box.

I write a letter to herself (similar to Nphet writing to the government), outlining my reasons why the fake Christmas tree should stay. I propose that we leave it where it currently stands, covered in baubles and lights, but drape a sheet over it until the next festive period.

The primary benefits are that I get to whisper to the tree each morning and herself is spared the chore of putting up/taking down the tree ad nauseam. The only downside is that the sheet covering the tree may have to be replaced every two-three months.

But herself doesn’t heed my suggestions. The tree is coming down and going to be put away until December 2021. With nothing left to lose, I chain myself to the tree and a lengthy stand-off ensues.

With a little extra time on my hands (that are tied to the Christmas tree), I start to watch The Office on Netflix, both the UK and US versions.

I’m leaning towards the US Office as being funnier – Steve Carell (US Office) is a better actor than Ricky Gervais (UK Office), who nevertheles is still a very talented performer.

The protest, which lasted for two and a half episodes, ends when I need to take a toilet break. The tree goes back into its box. See you next December, Mr Tree.

SATURDAY: JANUARY 9

THE day begins as Saturdays always should – two coffees and a handful of sausage rolls from Kate’s Kitchen on Castle Street. The shop is closed but ‘The Hatch’ is where the goodies are now dispensed from.

The queue was notable for the fact that no-one was checking their phones. An old-school queue, then, but with social distancing and without any small talk.

There was a member of An Garda Síochána waiting to be served. In a role reversal, the guard was briefly questioned by a Kate’s Kitchen staff member as to what the order was. I thought this scene was hilarious. OK, so you had to be there to appreciate this vignette.

We took a day off from walking outdoors with the dogs. As an alternative (although in hindsight not a sensible alternative) we attempted to replicate 10,000 steps by walking up and down the stairs.

United huffed and puffed their way to an FA Cup third round win over Watford. Wait and see – they’ll reach the semi-finals only to stumble, again. A trip to Roberto’s sorted out the dinner situation. Everything seems a little better after taco chips.

SUNDAY: JANUARY 10

A WALK, shopping at Dunne’s Stores and then some actual work. The walk was at [REDACTED] beach in [REDACTED]. At a nearby village there was an opportunity to get a takeaway coffee. I waited in the car, watching a group of unmasked Sligo people who had gathered for a chat. It was a little frightening to witness. A feature of today’s beach walk at [REDACTED] was herself deciding that she can walk into every puddle, defy soft portions of sand and negotiate lapping waves. One of her Xmas pressies was a pair of waterproof, leather boots – ‘Wonder Woman’ boots I call them – and she is now equipped to walk on the moon and, at the very least, discover previously incessible portions of the north-west coastline. Given the fact that my

Asics are (a) not boots and (b) not waterproof boots, I have to trudge on, getting my feet wet.

We watch and enjoy two episodes of The Terror on RTÉ – a semi-historical account of Lord Franklin’s ill-fated voyage of Arctic exploration. For me, terror is usually when toilet roll runs out, I draw the short straw and have to hoover or when United concede a last-minute goal. One of the actors on The Terror is the brilliant Ciarán Hinds, a Belfast native.

MONDAY: JANUARY 11

FOR the first time this year (er, this is only the 11th day of 2021), I wake up disorientated.

What day is it? Who am I? What is my purpose? Why have all my socks got holes meaning my toes peep out? To clear up the confusion – some of it at least – I get two coffees from the Gallery Cafe. This doesn’t mean that I’m caffeine cheating on Kate’s Kitchen, it is akin to liking both Coronation Street and Eastenders.

On the way back, fuelled up with my takeaway coffees, I thought I spotted Jason Mulrooney. Once of Yeats United, where he was team captain, I recall him winning a skills competition at a Nike soccer camp that I attended, hosted by The Showgrounds, in the early 1990s.

There we met Ian Rush. I didn’t ask him about his infamous quote that summed up his underpar spell at Juventus. He seemingly said (something that he has subsequently denied saying, implying he had been set-up): “I couldn’t settle in Italy, it was like living in a foreign country.” I then enjoy one of the finest war movies ever, 1917. It is simply that good. A rule of thumb for if a film is in the ‘A’ category – you would watch it again almost immediately.

As I drifted off to sleep the rain was pelting down outside.

TUESDAY: JANUARY 12

IT WAS still raining this morning, or at least trying to. In a conversation with herself I described a kind and considerate person as having “a heart of a Jesus”. Obviously not the actual heart of Jesus because, from my limited knowledge of the bible, there was no mention of heart transplants.

The Guardian tells me that Kazuyoshi Miura is set for a 36th season as a soccer professional in Japan. The striker, who turns 54 next month, plays for Yokohama FC.

Miura’s example could inspire me to make a comeback with Easkey GAA Club’s second XV. But am I willing to put in the work to get fit? More importantly, are Easkey that desperate for players? Perhaps I should aspire to try out hurling and be the Sea Blues’ new full-forward, their version of Kilkenny’s John Power. The announcement of Sligo Rovers’ “strategic partnership” with Everton FC is music to the ears of Bit O’Red fans, who’ll instantly wonder what promising Everton players will be arriving on loan at The Showgrounds later this year – and will these loan signings make the desired impact. Herself rustled up what I deemed to be her tastiest dinner ever but my mulling over United’s potential performance against Burnley – and chewing nails as they dug out a 1-0 win – dulled my appetite. United are, right now, top of the table and after almost a decade of being the source of mirth for other fans and, also, their own supporters, maybe – just maybe – a corner is being turned.