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It's difficult to stay tuned in when playing days are over





It's funny how the very act of letting go of something that troubles you can often lead to greater insight. A deeper understanding. An inner calm that goes along with such realisations.

Leaving behind one of the biggest weekends of sport so far this year, I ventured south, to Albufeira, to the wedding of two close friends. Claire O'Connor, second eldest of the renowned camogie sisters from Rathnure, and Pierce White, whose hurling potential was unrealised on the inter-county scene, as happens to so many, due to injury.

Apart from the odd twitter scroll, the sporting action at home was left behind. Though the talk was never too far from the field.

Grappling with a new relationship with the game is tough. Admitting it to former team-mates is tougher. It brings you down. That internal wrestle. You still want your team to win. Want your old friends to do well. To taste success. But you don't want to know anymore.

The internal workings that once drove your every breath, that you were at one time privy to, are no longer of you. It's an open wound. Dipping your fingers in is too painful. That others feel it, too, oddly eases the pain. Though I'm sure the mojitos and the summer sun helped that process too.

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