This Sunday, Clare play Cork in the hurling finals, and I desperately want to see the game.
I got my first taste for the game when I saw Clare play Cork in the Munster finals sometime back in the 90's. I can't even remember when.
What I do remember is that Cork had a player they called "The Rock" – he was a beast of a man.
I remember getting a lift down to see the game (it was being played in Tipperary as far as I recall). Afterwards, the three of us who trouped down there had to hitch a lift back to Clare.
Every single bus, car and tractor on the road was carrying supporters so it didn't take us too long.
But now I'm over here in Houston, where I've been for nearly seven years now, I don't have the same luxury of being surrounded by the people and the game.
I'll have to work out a way to watch it online. I finally have a jersey too, so I have my colours, and I'll be shouting for Brendan Bugler on the day – and the rest of the lads, of course.
But Brendan in particular because I had the pleasure of playing football with him in his front lawn with his brothers when we were of a much younger age.
It's a long time since then, and he's grown up now. And as I hear, he's making Clare proud by being selected as one of the all-star players this year.
Good man Brendan, Up the Banner.
So as I settle back into work after having a long weekend off celebrating labour day my mind is fixed on the game this Sunday.
I need to find a way to watch it at home. No place will be open at the time the game is being shown.
And I want to show my friends here what the hype is all about. Nathan, a carpenter, saw the hurls one day on campus and queried after them.
He put aside a bunch of ash and over the years has been learning to make hurls.
He used my old hurl as a model so to speak and has been crafting it since, as with all artisans, this stuff takes time, but I'm looking forward to see his final product, looking forward to give it a lash out on the field someday.
'til then, though, I need to see the game on Sunday.