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Tipp are up for the match - now Dubs need lesson in lingo

You know you're a culchie when you like the following: a 'nice bit' of ham, buttered biscuits, red diesel, winning a leg of lamb at a raffle, drinking minerals and eating 'hang' sandwiches out of the boot of a car.

Well, they're some of the things boggers like, according to a knee-slapping email doing the rounds.

Outrageous stereotyping, really. Except in the case of us bog ninjas in the run up to an All-Ireland Final.

This weekend myself and my agrarian brethren, Tipperarians, North Riding and South, will converge on the capital, blue and gold geansais on, singing Johnny B and the Boogie Men's '**** your Henry Shefflin, we've a Lar outside'.

Sorry, scrap that. The ridings are gone: we're a united county since our last All Ireland win.


The hem of the geansais will be tied in a knot by some of the young female fans. The older men will be planning to show that Mayo fan from last weekend how you really make your feelings known to a ref.

Sure, we might ham up the accent a bit in the capital - especially when we're talking to the Jackeens.

We'll drop our vowels ('You look fabalis - a mill-on dollars'), throw in as many 'wells' as we can manage, and generally sound like Dan Clancy from Killinaskully.

"De'ye remember the Mixer's wake?," we'll ask.

It's sort of a defence mechanism to keep it country with the vernacular. Rattle the Dubs the way the Rattler Byrne would rattle the forwards.

The right corner back played for the Premier County in the 40s and 50s and would famously shout to his team mates 'rattle 'em lads, rattle 'em!' as a high ball came into the square.

If we're Culchies who had to relocate to the big shcmoke to get a job, we go to full spud gobbler when we get home.

It's to reiterate we're still a genuine bog trotter. We're sort of playing it up, like. But we especially like to play it up on All Ireland day, just so the Dubs know that it is their country cousins who regularly win All-Irelands. (Too soon? Sorry.)


We may have bad broadband and a sense of self importance at this time of year but with all the talk of Dublin hurling, you'd swear the Dubs invented the clash of the ash. Not so.

Come Sunday we'll see ye in Supermacs after the game. And of course we'll be going to Flannerys for a few shcoops before Coppers on Saturday night.

Then we'll be back for the Feast of the Immaculate Conception on December 8, culchie shopping day in Dublin.

And if Tipperary win, correction, when we win, there won't be a cow milked in the county on Monday morning.