SIPTU Liberty Newspaper June 2014

Liberty
30 JUNE 2014
Sport
Rebels, Jacks and Rossies
By Matt Treacy
W
ITH the return of
the Championship,
not only
do GAA supporters
get to watch their counties
in action again, but we
also get to abuse one another
something desperate.
So it is handy to have recognised
terms of abuse distinct from the
officially sanitised nicknames approved
by the GAA.
The ones generally used often
have a bit of a nasty edge to them.
So while Cork people like to style
themselves “the Rebels” in memory
of their support for 15th century
pretender to the English
throne Perkin Warbeck who lived
in Mayfield for a while, everyone
else calls them “langers”, which is
the impolite local term for the
male member.
We Dubs are “the Dubs” or otherwise
“Jackeens” or even worse!
Jimmy Keaveney was once
bizarrely called “an oul fish and
chip man”. The Jackeen one is interesting
as it is often claimed that
this alludes to Dubs waving union
flags on the occasion of Queen Victoria’s
visit to the city in 1900.
No such thing. Dublin Corporation
refused a vote of homage, and
there was a major riot in which
James Connolly and Sean O’Casey,
then of this parish, took part.
Jackeen is a much older term of
abuse for Dubs and refers to the
sleazy habits of what the Americans
called “stage door johnnies”
who preyed on innocent girls from
the country.
Anyway, even if Jackeen is pejorative,
we have adopted it, and also
call ourselves “the Jacks”.
And there are others. Roscommon
are “the Rossies”, but their
neighbours prefer the sobriquet
“sheepstealers”.
So common was the practice
down Ming’s way back in the day
that there was a story that the first
Roscommon man let into heaven
was thrown out by St. Peter after
he was caught trying to rob the
Lamb of God.
Tipperary, according to Babs
Keating, will always be the “Premier
County” even though these
days they only win the All Ireland
with the frequency of manned
lunar landings.
They are also known as the
“Stone Throwers” which some
claim is a reference to the militancy
of the county during the
Land War.
Others darkly suggest that it
‘It is handy to
have recognised
terms of abuse
distinct from
officially sanitised
nicknames
approved
by the GAA
refers to their habit of throwing
things, including stones, at the opposition.
There is some evidence
of that from the Munster hurling
final in Killarney in 1971 when
Tipp supporters pelted the Limerick
goalkeeper.
Tipp relatives of mine swear
that the hardest items thrown
were oranges but the idea of Tipp
people throwing away food is
hardly credible.
Offaly are the “Faithful County”
or, more recently, the “Biffos”.
Both sound disarmingly tender
and harmless, like Biffo the Bear. I
propose “Sly Puck in the Back of
the Head County” as a more descriptive
moniker.
And Wicklow as the “Garden
County”, is perhaps an abbreviation
of “We Buried the Ref in the
Back Garden” county.
Carlow are for some bizarre reason
known as the “Scallion
Eaters”, also as “Piss-in-the-powders”;
a reference to their premature
decommissioning prior to the
1798 Rebellion.
It is noteworthy too that some of
the counties most famous for their
'robust' style of football have been
rewarded with deceptively benign
monikers.
A bit like those tropical insects
that disguise themselves as flowers.
Take for example Armagh.
“The Orchard County” rather than
the more descriptive “Flying Elbow
County”.
Kildare are “the Lily Whites” but
also “the Flour Bags”. Contrary to
that being a scurrilous allusion to
their alleged habit of losing games
they ought to win, it in fact refers
to their having forgotten to bring
their jerseys with them one time
and having to stop off at a mill in
Leixlip or Lucan and borrow some
flour bags which with strategic
re-tailoring were fit for purpose.
Oh, and Dublin won the match.
So, when you are watching your
team on the field of play, and you
are gripped by paroxysms of rage at
the treachery and go-be-the-wall
slyness of the opposing team, and
your children have their faces covered
with their jerseys in mortification
at your antics, perhaps
reflect a while on the historic and
cultural roots of the horrible epithets
you are hurling at the pitch
and rival supporters who have
moved seats and abandoned you
within a red-faced sweating cordon
sanitaire.
But to hell with them all. You are
enjoying yourself!