Hurley to Rise

Am I a dirty player?

At a recent hurling practice with the Baltimore Bohemians, we were running a simple drill: Three players chase down a ball in an effort to gain control and launch it toward the goal. Two of the players were considered teammates. The other was the opposition.

Me, being the big guy that I am, was having trouble keeping up in the mad dash after the sliotar. While a member of the two-person team, I changed up my tactics. Instead of focusing on the ball, I focused on the player opposing me.

Once the ball was loosed by the coach, I’d move in on the player and begin bumping him and slowing him down. I just wanted him off balance and away from my teammate. Even better, when I was able to get in front of him, I would widen myself, slow down and steer him away from the sliotar. This, of course, let my teammate scoop up the ball and fire away.

I was pretty excited about this, because while I’m not fast (or really all that athletic), I certainly could do this. Just jump in front of them and keep them away from the action.

But after running this drill a few times, I was told I wasn’t playing fair. Crap, I thought, there goes my niche.

Apparently, such maneuvers would get a whistle, and the opposing player would probably get a free, the soccer equivalent of a throw-in or penalty kick depending where the incident took place.

The whole strategy comes from my experience with hockey — including being a fan, a video-game player and some actual real-life play. In hockey, this is a penalty called Interference, and defined as “impeding an opponent who doesn’t have the puck.”  Though it is penalty, you have to heap a lot of abuse on your opponent to get called on it. It may not be entirely legal, but it certainly isn’t a big no-no.

Talking to the sports editor here at The York Dispatch, this kind of thing isn’t appropriate in most sports, including American football (commonly Pass Interference) and basketball (an illegal Screen).

In each of the three above sports, there are legal methods for helping your teammate without nabbing a penalty. (You can read the rules of hurling in this pdf, by the way.)

I can probably adapt each to work in hurling.

Some ideas:

• Rather than slow down (and thereby slow my opponent), keep running to the ball, but do so in a way that forces him to take an alternate path to the ball.
• Come to a sudden, dead stop and let the opponent run into me. Given my size, he’ll be the one on the ground.
• Get in between my opponent and my teammate, and loudly call for a pass. This could make my opponent think twice about leaving me alone.

So to answer the question in the title of this blog post. No, I’m not intentionally a dirty player, but yes, I will do whatever I can to help my team.

Hopefully I won’t get called on it.

—-

Photo of the St. Louis Hurling Club by BrettLohmeyer via Flickr.com.

Check out this helmet cam video

The Milwaukee Hurling Club is one of America’s most active teams. One of their players put together this amazing video from some clips he or she captured with a helmet camera.

Enjoy!

More on he Milwaukee team at Wikipedia.

And just in case you’re still in the dark, a tutorial on the basics of hurling can be seen here.

Five tips on stopping (that accursed ball)

The more I learn about hurling, the more I feel less sure about giving advice on how to play the game.

Still, I recently got an encouraging letter from an Akron, Ohio, player. He writes: “This is something special you’ve got going there! I have all my buddies on the team here in Akron reading it. The graphics you created as well as the detail provided about the game is phenomenal. I don’t know about other teams but this resource you provide is grand.”

For that pat-on-the-back, I thank him and makes me feel a little less sheepish in offering advice. We’re all learning, I suppose.
Now back to today’s lesson … In the last few practices that I’ve been able to attend, I turned my focus on stopping the ball as it comes to me.

Not necessarily catching the sliotar, but just making sure it makes a dead stop when it comes near me.

This was all stirred up by a particularly bad practice where I missed catches, whiffed hits and watched the ball bounce past me even when I did make contact.

So with that in mind, I offer …
>>> FIVE TIPS ON STOPPING A SLIOTAR

1. THE BEST OF THE BEST
Catching the ball, by far, is the best way to stop it. The problem is some people just don’t have the hand-eye coordination to do that.

The situation: The sliotar is flying high above you or taking a high bounce.

The problem: Catching the ball can be tricky. First off, you don’t have any glove, and the sliotar is moving like a rocket. When you catch it wrong, it stings. If you don’t grab it quick enough, its zips between your fingers.

Solution: In most circumstances, you want to catch the ball with your fingers. If you let it hit your palm, it bounces back out.

Finger catches allow you some slack to slow it down, the palm generally doesn’t.

With that in mind, remember that “line drives” are much harder to catch than “pop-flies.” Always try to catch pop-flies, and use your best judgment for line drives based on how fast they come.

2. DON’T SWAT
When you’re attempting to halt a sliotar’s forward progress, don’t swat at it.

The situation: The ball is coming toward you. You need to stop it and gain control.

The problem: Attempting to strike the sliotar to change direction is risky at best because when you miss, it keeps moving and you’re standing there looking like an idiot.

The ball bounces in a wildly erratic way (especially on crummy multi-use fields here in America). Likewise, don’t count on your depth perception to be accurate when the ball is in the air (at least I know I can’t).

Solution: Keep your hurley still and move to the ball. Position the hurley in the path of the sliotar. Hold your hurley with a lose grip to deaden the impact and limit a ricochete.

This does three things:
1. Gets you moving, hopefully in the general direction the ball is traveling.
2. Gives you more time to “commit” yourself and your hurley to a specific action.
3. Often makes the ball drop at your feet for a quick pick-up (a good result) or makes the ball hop directly into your chest (the best result).

3. BLOCK THE BALL
Don’t be afraid of the ball. Get in its way.

The situation: Most sports novices are a little afraid of the ball in their selected sport. They only want to handle it in the “official” method of their sport.

The Problem: In hurling, you use your hurley to control the ball, so many new players try to manuever themselves away from the ball so that they can use their stick on it. This allows the sliotar to slip away from your possession if you don’t handle it just right.

Solution: When the ball is coming at you, get your whole body in its way. From your feet all the way to your (helmeted) head, just make sure that some part of you keeps the ball from moving forward.

I won’t lie about this, getting hit by a sliotar hurts, so be prepared for that. However, stopping the ball and getting it under your control while flummoxing the opposing player (who was expecting to catch the ball) can reap big benefits.

4. FEAT OF THE FEET
The sliotar is bounding along in the grass. Your hurley isn’t there to stop it.

The situation: At every level of the game, the ball can get hit along the ground. Entire possessions can be ground-based, but because in-the-air strikes are just as common, you have to be ready to use your hurley up there too.

Other times, the ball seems hopelessly lost on the ground in a scrum of players.

The Problem: Two possible problems here:
1. In a scrum, no one can pick it up because it’s getting batted around too much. Despite all this commotion, the ball is essentially dead because no one can gain control.
2. After a ground strike, the ball skips along the ground and you can’t get your hurley down to stop it.

Solution: In hurling, it’s OK to kick the ball. It’s also OK to stop its forward progress with any part of your body, even your feet. With that in mind, use your feet. Stop the sliotar with an outstretched leg, shove it around with your instep, scoop it with your toe. Any of these can be used to halt its progress and gain possession.

I’m shocked at how little this tactic is used, especially in scrums. Rather than fight for it, just scoop-kick it to the open guy who didn’t join the battle.

5. HAVE A BACK-UP
When you try to catch the ball, or even block it, plan two layers of stop-zones.

The situation: You’ve done your best to stop the sliotar with one of the above methods.

The Problem: You fail to stop the sliotar and the ball keeps going, but you still want it stopped.

Solution: There are two solutions here, both operating on the same principle — Do something else to stop that ball.
1. When you try to catch or foot-stop the ball, position your hurley as a “rear guard.” When catching, you catch with your non-dominant hand. As you move your catching hand into position, move your hurley behind it. The same goes for when you try to stop the ball with your foot. If you miss the ball, there’s a good chance it will hit your hurley and stop.
2. A repeat of the “Block the Ball” tip mentioned above. If you’re trying to stop the ball with your hurley, position yourself behind your hurley. If it misses the hurley, it will hit you and stop.

Mixing and matching these principles — especially when you’re still struggling with the basic catch — is sure to help you stop the ball and take control in the heat of the game.

In sickness and in health

Shortly after I recovered from my calf injury, I somehow got mixed up in some poison ivy. That left me with rashes on my wrists, one ankle and a few places I’d rather not even discuss.

It wasn’t long before I was on some prescription medicine that helped clear up the rashes. One of the side effects of the medication was that it left my immune system in a weakened state.

And because of that medicine, just as I was pulling out of the itch-fest that is poison ivy, I succumbed to a cold that brought on headaches, dizziness and gobs of mucus.

Once again, hurling was out for me. In fact, exercising in any fashion was impossible. Mere seconds after doing anything the least bit active, my internal snot factory switched into overdrive and I wasn’t able to breathe.

Well, all this sickness has meant that I had to skip a game in Allentown on Saturday and practice on Monday. I was sick. I really was.
Now normally, I don’t get too bent out of shape with being sick. Through most illnesses, I can usually work at my desk-jockey job here at The York Dispatch. When I do, I minimize my contact with my co-workers and wash my hands more frequently.

But this head cold was a whopper. I ended up leaving early for two days in a row.

But I kept hoping that I’d be well enough for Saturday’s game.

In fact, I got more than a little upset with myself that I couldn’t go.

The week before, our team manager asked for a headcount. I said I’d be there. Same with the others.

By Saturday, I was groggy, headachy and unable to breathe very well. I just could not go.

But I felt I needed to. I owed it to my team. I couldn’t let them down.

And that, my friends, is a big change in me.

For most of my life, I’ve been a loner. I wanted to do my own thing. In fact one of the many reasons I even took up hurling is that I wanted to do something different.

It would have been easy for me to take up baseball or basketball or even Ultimate Frisbee.

But no. I wanted to do something really different. I chose hurling because no one else around here was doing it.

Once I got involved with the Baltimore club, I started to really like it. I craved it.

I enjoyed the people. Always giving. Always guiding.

And now I was letting them down. Me — Mr. Go-It-Alone — was worried about the team.

Yes, hurling has changed me.

It’s official: I have played my first hurling game

Before I go into my description of my first-ever game of hurling, let me delve into a little background first. Namely, my “career” as an athlete. This, I figure, will help you understand the outcome of said game.

Let’s go waaaay back with this timeline:

• August 1973: John is born, his mom and a healthy dose of drugs do all the work.
• Late 1974ish: John hasn’t learned to walk yet. His brother and sister carry him too much for him to bother with such effort.
• Eventually: John does learn to walk, probably at the behest of an Oreo cookie just out of reach.
• Early 1980s: John learns to ride a bike. A budding athlete, perhaps?
• Slightly later in the 1980s: John is always picked last for teams in kickball. No, this athlete thing isn’t working out.
• Spring 1982: John is signed up for tee-ball. Coach puts him in right field.
• Spring 1983: John makes it into Little League. Coach puts him on the bench with occasional outings into right field. Coach is often aggravated by John’s requests to visit the snack shack.
• Fall 1984: John is signed up for kids’ soccer. As a proud member of the Lindley Aztecs, he is a fullback who spends much of his time on the bench.
• Fall 1985: More of the same as an Aztec. Go-o-o-o-o, AZTECS!
• Late 1985 to 1987: An extreme dearth of physical activity.
• Spring 1988: In the first of many Presidential Physical Fitness tests, John simply walks the  1-mile run. Gym teachers are not pleased. (This action repeats for all four years of high school).
• 1988 through 1993: The second great dearth of physical activity.
• Late 1993: John goes to college for his final two years. Becomes pretty good at “NHL ‘94″ on Sega Genesis. (This is going somewhere, I promise you.)
• Spring 1994: John joins his dorm-mates in intramural floor hockey. He actually has fun. He also really starts to like hockey.
• Spring 1995: John graduates from college. Buys himself a pair of inline skates and learns how to “rollerblade” with 2 a.m. sessions in a golf course parking lot. John loses about 20 pounds.
• 1995 through 2009: John continues to skate on a fairly regular basis. While living in Ohio, John joins a rollerhockey team. Upon moving to York, he sometimes even skates home from work — a four-mile trip. This time is also further punctuated by very short-lived efforts to “get fit” by joining a gym.
• Summer 2009: John stumbles upon this game called hurling, and decides to give it a try.
• Spring 2010: After a summer of learning some basics, John starts practicing with the Baltimore Bohemians hurling team.
• June 5, 2010: John’s first hurling game.

Ready to play: The trip took me from York County to a middle school in Silver Spring, Md. In the two-hour drive, I spent my time reminding myself of the basics. I even told myself this was my chance to be a warrior. It was my chance to shine. I was out there to win one for the Gipper and all that kind of stuff.

My psyche-up session went as well as can be expected when you’re the only one doing the psyching. I was excited. I was confident I’d do OK.

As requested, I was about an hour early for the game, and worked on warming up while the Baltimore Bohemians gaelic football team trounced the Frederick, Md., team.

And then, it was my time. All these years of meek athletic performances could be wiped away with one game. All I had to do was put in a solid effort. Score some points. Knock some people around.

First up, picking sides. Because the Baltimore hurling team isn’t big enough yet, the D.C. Gaels hurling team split up into two teams. The Baltimore squad was then split up between the two Gaels squads.

While this was happening, I quietly noted to myself that these fellows are slender, fit and (mostly) much younger than me. No problems, I tell myself, they can’t all be amazing, can they?
Full forward: Weeks ago, my coach had explained my role on the team: I was to be a Full Forward. In hurling, that’s the offensive position that sets camp next to the goalkeeper and waits for balls to trickle in. A full forward then snatches the ball and whacks it into the goal for whatever points he can get.

Shortly after receiving my assignment a few weeks ago, I quickly deduced why I was placed there: The full forward is where you get stuck so you can do as little damage to your own team as possible.

As a full forward, I was paired up with the opposing team’s defenders. In hurling, defenders are highly active because the goal’s so damn big. They’re like goalkeepers on a longer leash.

Behind me were the midfielders. This is hurling’s most productive group because when you hit a sliotar (the ball), it can go a country mile. That means almost all the points scored are from somewhere near the center line.

And the full forwards are there to pick up the scraps. When a ball falls short or goes wide, it’s the full forwards’ job to pick it up and hammer it in.

Yes, that’s what we’re supposed to do.  That was the plan.

The first half:  Donning my bee-colored jersey, I went into play. The other full forward was a D.C. Gael. He quickly recognized my inexperience, and started barking orders to me.

I appreciated this. If there’s one thing I’ll readily admit to is that I am not a fast thinker.  I am a very deliberate and thorough thinker, just not a fast one. It was a big help to have someone doing it for me.
The next 30 minutes or so of play, I ran around and chased the ball. I think I even touched it once.

But mostly, I was inept. When I was in the middle of the field, the ball went wide. When I was in the extreme forward position to the left of the goal, I regretted not being in the middle. When I ran after the ball, someone else got there first.

This was indeed my chance to shine, and all that shined was my inexperience and that I was a snail in a field of jackrabbits.

From behind me, I heard my team. They were getting frustrated with my shenanigans.

Then the whistle blew, and it was half-time. Whew.

Half-Time:  On the sideline, the D.C. Gaels coach greeted me. He said he was sorry, but he had to bench me.

To keep my spirits high, he said I was doing fine, but I needed to “crash the net.” I needed to be right there on top of the goaltender. I needed to get the ball and fire.

A light rain started by that time, but my mood wasn’t diminished. I knew I was sucking. I wanted the feedback. I had no problem being benched. I was green.  I had underestimated all these guys that were running circles around me, and I had overestimated my own ability.

After a few minutes, the teams went back out on the field, and I was left alone to watch the game unfold without me.

The second half: I stood at the sideline for a few minutes and then the whistle blew.

The game stopped, and someone was limping toward me.

“Sub!” a player yelled.

And just like that, I was back in the game.

But even with my new-found wisdom, the rest of the match went just like the first. After a switch around of players on the blue team, I was paired with the Speedy Gonzalez of defensemen.

He was at the ball by the time I realized “Hey, I ought to run after that ball.” He was just fantastic, and all I could do was chase him.

After 70-some minutes of play, the game was over and my team was the big losers. I couldn’t help but heap much of the blame on my own shoulders.
I had played my first game of hurling, for better or worse.

Aftermath: In the minutes, hours and days that followed, I have analyzed just what happened on the field.

I see my actual mistakes and I understand my inadequacies.  I’m still pretty sure I can get better at this.

• Field position: It wasn’t apparent to me at the time, but full forwards need to play right on the edge of the field, and almost right off the field. This should be my default location (but I should always be moving around). By sticking so close to the “end zone” line, I can catch balls as they sputter out-of-bounds. Likewise, this lets me run to the ball as it comes up short.



• The goalkeeper: Rather than stick close to the guy defending me, I need to pester the goalie. I can’t be right on top of him, but I can work to block his view. I was wasting my time staying near my defender. This is an old hockey habit when I was training to be a defenseman.
• Bad eyes: This became apparent to me at the last practice, but I need to get my eyes checked. I have horrible vision as it is, and picking a high-flying ball out of a sky filled with clouds is tough. It’s been a while, so I clearly need a new prescription.
• Run, Forrest, run: I keep forgetting that I’ve got long legs, not stumpy little leprechaun legs. I’ve got to get in the habit of running with a full extension. That’s probably the only way I can get faster.

So to sum up, my hurling effort hasn’t erased a lifetime of being a bad athlete. But there’s still more games to come.

Change is in the air, and it will be delivered at the end of a hurling stick.

Headgear for hurling

As I get more and more prepared to play hurling in a competitive nature, I am picking up equipment that’s needed to play the sport.

In this video, you can see the ins and outs of a hurling helmet, which is a lot different than most sporting helmets.

See more videos I’ve made on hurling:

• Hurley to Rise — The beginning!
• Finding the balls
• Hitting practice
• Baseball player’s perspective
• Wall ball (Warning, I kinda messed the instructions on this one!)
• Helmets

A calf for the slaughter

Practice Monday didn’t go quite as planned.

I have to admit, during the early exercises, I wasn’t feeling it. I just tried stopping balls instead of catching them.  I was having trouble with my helmet, and used it as an excuse to stop what I was doing and fiddle with it.

But then I began feeling guilty about my sloppy attitude, and started pushing myself.

We were practicing “challenged overhead catches” where another player and I scrambled around the field for the hurling equivalent of a pop fly.

It’s a pretty important skill, and one I certainly need to perfect. Why’s that? Well as a slower player, if I can gain control of the ball by catching it then I don’t have to run after other players as much. Additionally, I should be better at catching the sliotar than most players simply because I can outreach them.

We were only 10 minutes into the practice by the time we started this exercise and I was going against a teammate who was much faster than me and quite a better athlete in general.

He handled the first fly ball and bat back with skill and speed, and when the second came whizzing overhead, I had a little bit of an advantage: It was going to my side and not too far away.

I could make it, I told myself.

So I spun around and charged forward, and then “whack,” I felt a sharp pain in my calf.

Almost immediately, I said “Dude, you just hit me with your stick!”

But that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t anywhere near me.

He was already at the ball and hitting it back.

And I was limping.

For the rest of the practice, I limped. To be honest, I wasn’t really involved in the practice.

I kept walking and rubbing my calf. It wasn’t feeling any better.

I helped a little of course. I gathered up out-of-bounds balls. I served as a “designated hitter” for a couple of exercises, but other than that, I was useless.

I couldn’t lift my toes up on my right foot. I couldn’t run without a charlie-horse feeling in my leg.

By the time practice was over, I had retrieved many balls, hit a few and fielded a half dozen questions on my condition.

Even then, I could tell it was worse then a muscle spasm. I sometimes get leg cramps in the middle of the night, and this wasn’t like them at all.

The trip home wasn’t so bad, but the hour-and-half drive didn’t do me any favors. When I got out of the car after parking, my limp was horrendous since my calf was so tender.

Ice and Advil helped me get to sleep, and after work the next day I was at the doctor’s office. She said I had strained my calf, and I’d take at least two weeks to recover.

And that’s the major bummer. My first game (more on my prospects later) was scheduled for 4:30 p.m. Saturday. Another practice is Monday.

Even today, three days after my the incident, I can tell Saturday’s out. I can’t run a bit. The walking limp has eased up some.

At this point, Monday seems out, but maybe I can manage practice on May 24.

Until then, I’ve decided that I can still do some upper body work. I figure a good portion of my slowness is a direct result of my spare tire. Maybe if I can whittle that down a bit that I can be faster and more agile.

This injury is only a minor setback though, you can trust me on that. This game is way too exciting to give up now.

Two steps forward, one step back

Though I have practice tonight, I want to talk about last Sunday’s hurling practice.

As I mentioned in this post, it was a hot one and I sucked down water like it was going out of style.

All that hydration didn’t stop me from just being utterly exhausted at times. There’s just so much running in hurling, and that’s not something I’m used to yet.

More than once, I just had to stop and recover for a minute or two, probably much to the chagrin of my coach and fellow players. My legs just didn’t want to move and I just didn’t want do anything to make them.

My breathing did a lot better than last time as I worked quite intentionally to slow it down and breathe deeper instead of quicker and shallower.

But disappointments aside, I was proud of myself and my effort in several instances:

• Delivery — At warm ups, we pair off and bat the sliotar (the baseball-sized ball) to one another. After a few crummy hits, I was hitting a long balls almost directly to my partner. This is a good skill to have because that’s essentially how the ball is moved up the pitch. Getting it right to your intended target, with little movement on his part is a big plus. Check out this striking video on YouTube.
• Catches of the day – In one drill, we have a few people at one side of the field and they blast the ball toward a set of two players. Those two players then jockey for position to make a one-handed catch. When catching, you always want to grab the ball with your non-dominant hand as in baseball. The only problem is that hurling players don’t have a catching glove. They must catch it barehanded. Sometimes this hurts and sometimes it just slips through your fingers. More often than not you just can’t get to it in time, especially when someone else is trying to fight you for it. Me? I managed to catch the ball twice during the drill. Of the group of 15, I think only one other person managed a catch at all. Check out this “hurling catch” skill video on YouTube.
• Strategy Part 1 – In another drill of similar nature, we paired off and fought for the ball as someone else grounded it to us. Once it was under control, it’s then fired to another pair of players. I’m still really slow, and know it, so I let my opponent take the lead. He reached for the ball, but just as he came in contact with him, I nudged his arm just enough to make him miss, which delivered the ball right to me. I guess there’s something to be said for stalling. See some impressive techniques by advancing to 5:00 mark in this hurling video.
• Strategy Part 2 – In a mini scrimmage, I was faced with the same problem. We were man-on-man, and I just couldn’t keep up to his speed. So, I hung back and waited for him to get the ball. I let him think he was open, but once he had it, I was all over him and forced him to make a bad play. Admittedly this only worked once out of three times, but he never scored either. See the “W” skill drill on YouTube. Not hurling, but it would be helpful if I could do it!
• Score – Yep, I managed a nice clean score (of a point, not a goal), when my man took a sliotar too fast and lost control of it. It bounced up over his shoulder and past me. I spun around, snatched it from the air and continued my spin. I had a clear shot, served up the ball and fired it right through a crowd for a point. The shot was so clean I got quite a few “attaboys.” See an impressive long-distance score in this YouTube clip.

Part of the success I’m seeing is by just making sure I practice outside of practice. Some days it’s just a session on the elliptical machine at the gym.

Other times, I’ll take over a local soccer field for an hour or so . There, I try to do a number of simple solo drills. Sometimes I just practice running. Other times, I hit the ball, run to it, scoop it up and fire again — all as quick as I can. Still another drill is to just work on my aim and distance with hits.

Most of all, it all adds up to little improvements, and its these breakthroughs that help me keep going. Sure hurling is challenging, but then I go and make progress and disprove some of my doubts.

Water, water everywhere

Though the weather has improved in the last few days, think back to Sunday, when temperatures hit 90 and the humidity was akin to a greenhouse.

It was in that environment that the Baltimore hurling team was practicing.

Having checked the forecast the night before, I had prepared for a grueling session on a sunbeaten and windless field. Around 9 p.m. on Saturday, I sat down and ate two oranges. In the morning, I continued with more hydration efforts — the equivalent of 24 oz. of liquid in the form of skim milk.

Just as I left for practice, I gulped down another 8 oz. of water.

By the time our 90-minute practice was over, I had downed 40 additional ounces of water.

On the trip home, I stopped at a Rite Aid and got a 32 oz. bottle of  Powerade Zero, the new zero-calorie electrolyte-replenishing drink, and another 20 oz. bottle of water, and a bag of shelled sunflower seeds.

Those were all gone by the time I got home.

Even with all that liquid, practice and the sun had left me so dehydrated that it was only hours later that I felt the need to go to the bathroom.

Now that is something I never expected as a result of taking up this sport.

Hurling coverage resurfaces in America

Updating a previous post of mine, Hoganstand.com, a Web site that covers hurling and gaelic football, says here that a new channel will be offering gaelic game coverage to North America.

MHz, which is a small network based out of Washington, D.C., is part of the lineup for some cable and satellite systems. Comcast, Dish and DirecTV are all listed as showing MHz, but the organization of the list implies that it only offers service to customers in Maryland, Virginia and Washington, D.C. Regardless, you can bet I’ll be checking my version of Dish Network when I get home.

(Thanks to Mark for the tip!)
This news gives me an opening to point those interested in hurling to a few additional Web sites, particularly if you’re a fan of  so-called “top-level play,” which means “games that feature athletes who don’t get paid, but could outrun, outhit and outlast high-paid jocks like A-Rod”:

• Hoganstand, which is a magazine in Ireland, has a site that allows users to get a wide variety of game stories from across the country. To me it seems to be the best source of information on a daily basis.
• The Irish Independent, Ireland’s biggest newspaper, offers daily coverage on the sports too, but seems to lack the broad coverage Hoganstand offers.
• Sliotar is an online magazine that you can have e-mailed to you for free in PDF format. Aside from match coverage, it usually contains a historical features too. “Sliotar,” by the way, is the Irish word for a hurling ball.
• Hurling World offers news too, but the best part of it for me is that they have an extensive YouTube library of game clips available.

Of course, all that may be just too much “inside baseball” for the average American who’s actually playing hurling. In a later post, I’ll try to point you to some sites that offer tips on playing the game.

Got any hurling sites you like? Give me some ideas by commenting!