Hockey Ball 2002

The Rock

Last year’s lunchtime pint in Cissie’s appears to have become something of a tradition (hopefully of the Sambuca Shot rather than the Kieran’s Kangaroo Kourt variety), and so it was that many excited punters gathered in the Rock for a world-famous Rock Special™ and a pint. It was clearly BAZ’s first time there – he was unaware of the technique involved in obtaining food (if you see a member of staff with a plate, assume it’s yours, scream for attention, see what it is, decide if you want it), so he went hungry while those around munched to our heart’s content. Heated debate took place on the merits of Chef and Heinz ketchup. Phil did his hilarious Billy Connolly routine, even when the jokes themselves were poor, the delivery usually made up for it. Gally and Derry starred in an episode of “When Jokes Go Wrong!” Gally’s recovery was deft in contrast to Derry. In fairness though Derry was a bit drunk - in his infinite wisdom, Der had thought it a good idea to start drinking at 11am!

Ashton School

It wouldn’t be a report written by me if it wasn’t completely self-absorbed (eh Marcus?), so I shall regale with tales of the schoolboys’ Junior Cup Final between Ashton (shocker) and Bandon. Simon and I were officiating in this prestigious clash… Despite Bandon being favourites, markedly superior, and having all the possession and chances, Ashton jammed a 2-1 victory. Tea and buns and a cheque from the Ashton coach (one E. Kirwan) in the gym after. Splendid. Amusing graffiti on the door of the gym: “Mr Kirwan is gay!” Does Barber have a brother in Ashton?

The Star

People began to arrive at the Star around 6pm. Yvonne my housemate brought me, Jer and Orla Canavan in just a tad late – no prizes for guessing who of the trio caused the delay… Orla modelled four dresses for me and Jer to decide on – we selected the first and third, and after thirty minutes of deliberations, Orla opted for the second. Women, eh? In contrast, during the same period, Jim, Jer and Kieran managed to get ready (including the pesky bow-tie), print off team names for the tables, have a few beers, and most importantly, create The Flag! (Picture Homer sitting at the Hockey Ball, and someone coming up to him saying “Excuse me, but are you supposed to be here?” Homer <waving his Hockey Ball 2002 flag>: “I think it’s obvious that I am… go Hockey!” (from the episode when he becomes an inventor like Thomas Edison… and no I’m not insane)).

Here’s Jer’s take on events chez moi:

Kieran presented Canavan with a glorious red rose, "Ya see," I opined, "That's how chicks like to be treated, I'm sure he'll be rewarded later…" (doh!) Canavan deciding between n dresses, memorably an interesting backless number which sadly she rejected despite our protestations. Canavan then attempted to hem the chosen dress with stick tape... I had to assemble a Homer Simpson style flag with "Hockey Ball 2002" on it with only a ruler, two A4 sheets and a dodgy marker (Blue Peter it wasn't). Hints of emotion in the car on the way when I point out that this is my last ball as a student...

Anyway we arrived in the fullness of time, and bumped into Orla Mac and Sandra outside the Star, both sporting foliage, as is traditional (for them). Sandra also had Devil Horns. Banter flowed in the Star, everybody in buoyant spirits thanks to the free pints and Eddie Coogan’s shirt. I advised Hockey Ball Virgins Barrett and Lenny to ignore the PROs when they urge you to leave and get the ‘last’ bus that’s about to leave outside. A bit of composure and a cool head was all that was required, I informed the lads. (of course I personally had a trump card up my sleeve in that Yvonne was going to drive me down to Jury’s…)

Lenny and Dave were in no rush to leave anyway, as they were embroiled in a competition to see who could obtain through means fair and foul the most free pints. I must confess to being completely sucked in by their ‘good cop’ (Lenny looking doe-eyed and beseeching) ‘bad cop’ (Barrett saying “Give me a ticket, you cunt!”) thing they had going on. One of them ended up with seven, the other managed eight apparently. Fair play.

Meanwhile, ever the traditionalist, Eoinzy had decided to reprise the “HOCKY (sic) BALL 2001” t-shirt thing – a slightly reluctant Elmo was selected to partner Eoinzy in this endeavour. Tragically (though some, like Elmo, might say thankfully) Eoinzy actually forgot to bring them down to the Star. No problem - Eoinzy decides to run home in order to get them! He returned later with the (correctly spelt this year) t-shirts and Elmo puts his on. Marvellous.

Jury’s

This year I had vowed not to get demented so early that I don’t remember the actual meal and speeches, and so it proved. Honestly! I’m going to stick my neck out and say that I remember most of what happened – well perhaps I should revise that to some of what happened…

Despite Papa Smurf being exiled at the top table (yawn yawn – despite the free wine), he had sorted out his First Team cronies by allocating us the table next to the bar… Nice one my son! I showed Phil The Flag (as he’s the only one who actually finds it funny) and luckily he finds it funny. So funny in fact that he took possession of it and commenced two hours of periodic waving. There was a minor wind-up resulting in Eamon, Eoinzy, and Eoinzy’s bird Sorcha stuck at a table on their own, but Helium-related hilarity saved the day.

Soon, it was mushroom soup time, perhaps the most joyous time of the evening. The lads adjourned to the bar en masse and ordered Black Russians, in accordance with the scriptures. Almost anti-climactically, the bar staff were friendly and cooperative, and made them for us with a cheerful grin. They tasted great, but lacked the kudos associated with last year’s bar staff-defying home made efforts. Jer’s take on this:

We arrived in time for the mushroom soup, which was nice as it gave us the opportunity to make our cocktails for tradition’s sake. I approached the bar to get the mandatory refusal before the inevitable appeal for four cokes, four vodkas etc. Unfortunately they WERE doing cocktails this year so my order of six Black Russians stood and I footed the rather considerable bill (d’oh!)

The main course duly arrived, and was wolfed down by some, picked at by others, and inserted into Squire’s pockets by still others. Profiteroles for dessert as usual - is it just me or is it madness to give 150 drunken students ready made projectiles as a dessert?

Down the other end of the room, Sandra and Baz Jnr. monitored events (after a fashion…):

Sandra:

Ok...the chicks end...the firsts were all boring and well behaved and stuff...our table on the other hand were not!!!

Start of the night: Jenny Donovan knocks my bag out of my hand and my vodka imports fell on the floor in front of like the entire Jury’s staff...I quickly picked up my ‘cargo’ and scampered across the dance floor to join my import buddy for the night... Jillian Dalton who also brought in vodka. As soon as the jellies landed on the table Jillian, Ann-Marie and I didn’t even think about eating the sweets...so we hurled them across at every table in sight!!

Our table became drunker and drunker as the meal went on thanks to our manager Ros buying many bottles of wine that really only seemed to end up in myself, Sinead O'Leary and Jillian’s glasses... then I decided to do the dog on it buy mixing my wine with the vodka...didn’t really eat the dinner cos we were too busy throwing it!!!

Baz Jnr:

One of the first things I can remember was the sweets placed on the tables for the benefit of the teams before dinner. I can't remember who instigated the food fight between the Men's 2nds and 3rds but the Ladies’ 2nds who were trapped in the line of fire decided to join in also against the Men’s 3rds. Ann-Marie proved why she's better at stopping than shooting by missing every time she threw stuff at me. Sadly we soon ran out of sweets that we didn't want to eat so sugar cubes were a welcome substitute.

For some reason the still relatively sober teams didn't stop when the soup was being dished out and the bouncers soon came over to confiscate our bowls of sugar. We took this as the sign to start eating and despite the odd sweet being thrown into our midst we took the higher road (also we were now out of ammo).

Marc decided to try get a meal at both tables but the good staff at Jury’s rightly ignored the order he left at our table written on a napkin. Squire was quietly wandering from table to table soaking up the ambience but mysteriously disappeared just before the meal and didn't reappear until after the speeches (how long does it take to run back to his other half in Brookfield?)

After the dessert was cleared away/off the floor, it was speech time. Jer and I, supping contentedly at the breast of Mother Lager, confirmed to each other that we are, relative to yesteryear, not buckled. We agreed that while this is a novel experience, it is not entirely unwelcome. I headed off to the bar for a further brace of Carlsberg, only to discover something most disturbing and indeed sinister. The bar was closed! What the fuck???? In an exceptional, unparalleled, unrivalled, unprecedented, unique development The Powers That Be had decided that there ought to be decorum while the ramblings take place. I’ve done some digging, and I am told that Enright is the evil mastermind behind this diabolical development. For Shame, sir!

Thus, there was nothing to do but sit back and actually listen to the speeches. Laura started out by apologising for being so drunk last year – we empathised with her. She went through the Ladies’ awards and thank you’s (though the umpires got no mention!!!!). The girls’ joke awards were slightly marred by Lou’s drunkenness… Next Kieran took over. Kieran later claimed he was locked and made it all up on the spot, fair play if he did because it was quite amusing, though blaming the closure of the bar on Sandra seemed harsh. The Men’s awards were fairly predictable, then Ronan and Gally took over for the Joke awards… I had kindly donated my much cherished and widely travelled Cork GAA top to Kieran, and as I predicted it ended up with Dave, covering a blow-up doll complete with hurley and helmet. Ronan and Gally were quite funny,and I began to wonder if I had missed out on much in previous years by being so locked?

There was also time for a minute silence for our late former President Peter McSweeney, an ‘oggy’, and a rousing speech by the president of the Munster Branch Pat Dawson in which he pledged to reinstate the President’s Rule. Inspirational stuff.

Amusing and all as the lads were, however, they were no substitute for cool pints of Carslberg, so it was with relief that the formalities concluded and normal service resumed, bar-wise. There was the usual transitional half an hour of pre-dancing milling around. I took the opportunity to bend Pat Dawson’s ear about flights to Spain for the summer.

Baz again:

During the speeches, Willy, sitting at the 3rds table, was quite pleased to be given a mention and subsequent ovation from the crowds. The second time it happened we applauded him again, the third time we thought he was milking it. The men's awards were evenly distributed among the men's tables, two for the Firsts, one for the Seconds, five for the Thirds. Solid reflection on the season methinks.

Elmo managed to pawn off Eoinzy’s t-shirt on Gally – and in the process convince Gally it was a great honour! There was much random buying of drinks, current president Dave Hackett purchased a round of sambucas for the lads. Jer and Lou amused the Roses and the Dawsons. The Afters crowd began to arrive, luckily no sign of any drunken GAA lads hell-bent on destruction. There were a good few of the hockey lads that are in college but playing for Bandon/CI/Quins, which was nice. They pretty much all hooked up, which bodes well for getting them to join us next season…

More from Baz:

I remember trying to organise the 2nds for a team drink. First we met by the podium but there were too many missing so we decided to reassemble by the 2nds team table in a few minutes with more teammates. Five minutes later half the team was sitting with Gally at the 3rds table trying to subtly pour Blue Aftershock under the table.

It was soon decided to try to have the MHC sambuca shot by the corner of the bar. As rounding up the team was proving to be impossible despite the eager efforts of Barber to organise it, El Capitan Healy decided he would lead the club by going up and announcing it from the DJ's microphone. After chatting for a few minutes the DJ left seemingly on a break leaving a quite drunk Kieran and Louise on the stage with the equipment. Kieran picked up the microphone and Andy prepared the troops to listen to what he has to say. Suddenly Kieran and Louise now started giggling and pushing the buttons randomly. After ten minutes everyone had downed their shots and wandered off again and the two were still messing with buttons joined by Sandra at this stage I believe. The DJ returned and they were eventually persuaded to leave.

On the dance floor, an epic score-fest was developing, the likes of which have rarely been seen. I personally attempted to keep abreast of the shenanigans, but was repeatedly distracted by a certain non-hockey girl – yes, it’s true, Jim in scoring with a non-hockey girl shocker! Thus my memories of the latter stages of the proceedings are hazy – but at least not due to vodka abuse. I remember Barrett and Barber wearing the GAA jersey, Squire being too drunk to speak, and Kieran calling Ronan a prick ever few minutes (totally unrelated to Ronan scoring with Orla Canavan, honest). I don’t remember any boat antics, that is Boat Races or indeed ‘Rock the Boat’. Barber and Lou had a blazing row, funny if you saw it, and Phil told Michelle O’Brien to ‘fuck off’ at the very end!

In fact, Baz tells me that the Boat Race between the Ladies’ Firsts and Seconds did indeed take place, but it degenerated into a farce with each side claiming victory. Meanwhile, the Devil-horned Sandra had gone on the rampage it seems – in her own words:

…Barber and Barrett coaxed me into plugging out the DJ plug, I asked Barber if he thought that they knew it was me and he said that a girl in a red dress sprinting away laughing from the scene might not have gone unnoticed!! I then proceeded to rob Jim’s flag from Phil... as you can imagine he was not impressed...chased me all around the room until I, being absolutely pissed at this stage took the biggest hopper ever and landed on my ass... laughed at by everyone but Anne Sommerfield came to the rescue and brought me dancing... without the flag cos Phil had gotten it back!! Sorry also to all the ladies and gents for having to piss in darkness... turning off the lights continuously in the men’s and ladies’ bathrooms also seemed a thrill on the night!!…

There wasn’t much aimless loitering outside after, as it was straight onto Jenny and Deirdre’s place on Magazine Road. I hear stories that some genii went and got munch somewhere, fair play to them! I remember telling the taxi driver to stop near College when I saw a load of people in tuxes/dresses. These were of course Hockey Ball punters, completely lost. Luckily I knew where to go, and the punters followed me – extremely sceptically it must be said! In fairness, when we got there many apologised for their lack of faith.

Baz, on getting to the party:

After Jury’s a fairly large crowd was despatched to the house party courtesy of Dee and Jenny. Most of the crowd arriving on Magazine Rd. not knowing where to go next. Thankfully myself and Neville arrived at the same time as Jer pulled up in a cab. Excellent, I thought, he'll know where to go. "That's Baz!” said Jer, “Baz where are we going?" OK, so he was drunk but I wasn't going to let this derail me. "House party Jer, do you know where it is?" "No Baz, do you know where the house party is?"

Thankfully at this stage Dee arrived on the road thirty yards away. Just as we were about to leave the road another cab pulls up by Elmer’s house clearly wearing tuxes. Knowing that Elmer's household rarely wear tuxes as casual wear I was ordered to investigate so I wandered off

down the road quacking away on a broken party blower trying to get their attention. Sadly Lenny and Dave saw nothing unusual about a guy in a tux quacking at them at 3.30 in the morning and only noticed me when I was less than 20 yards away.

So off up the road we went to the house party only to intercept a sizable crowd led by Jim shouting “Where the hell are we going?" "We're lost!" and so on. As we were noticed at the entrance Jim got quite indignant that we might have been sent to find him and spent twenty minutes insisting that he knew where he was going all along. On the other hand, his loyal followers were very happy to finally see someone who looked like they knew where they were. I remember walking in with Alma and she insisted on stopping to admire the park before starting to curse at bloody engineers and generally blame me for the state of the world or something. I still fail to see how she made that transition.

Jenny & Deirdre’s place on Magazine Road

The party was in full swing when I got back there, all the standard ingredients in place namely music, loads of completely random punters, Elmo’s fridge, and booze. Well actually there wasn’t quite as much booze as we thought, so Elmo and I headed down to his place to retrieve some more. He informs me “I have a girlfriend!” Apparently the girl he’s been seeing recently, Áine, asked him to go out with her. Whi-tish! (That’s a sort of whipping noise, by the way.) We met the Twinificks and rather the worse for wear Sinéad O’Leary (still clutching her pillow). Banter was exchanged, Sinéad’s sole contribution to which was to exclaim “Spunk!”

Back in J&D’s place, people were either dancing, scoring, or fading. Jer was sort of doing all three with a girl from his team (naughty naughty – in fact wasn’t Meg the player of the year?) Dino was leading the dancing in between ringing his secretary explaining his projected non-attendance at work the next day. Lenny and Dave were scoring with two girls out in the corridor, Jer and Meg had commandeered the couch, and Gally had made his way up to Jenny’s room – alone however. It turns out that everyone in the men’s club with about five exceptions scored.

As for the naming and shaming of the losers:

Kieran “Ronan, you prick!” Healy

Eddie “Was never going to happen with that shirt” Coogan

Andrew “Need I say more?” Barber

Marc “Probably hadn’t shaved” O’Leary

Ciaran “Too busy looking for his tux jacket” Martin.

It’s since been brought to my attention that Mush also did not score.

Back to the report. It was now about 4 or 5am, and Elmo and I decided that there was no need for heroics at this early stage. Thus we retired to his place. En route, Elmo told me “I have a girlfriend!” Marvellous. I was going to question the gayness of Elmo’s Russell Crowe poster on his wall, but I knew he’d go on about having a girlfriend so I let it go.

Day 2

Jer, still in J&D’s place:

I remember waking up on the coffee table with a dead phone by my side...on focusing I recognise nobody...who's party was I at last night I ask myself....I have a cool bottle of Becks for breakfast and an encounter with a stroppy house-mate who cared little for my “It's nine am and I'm going to get locked again”, happy go lucky attitude...

At about 9am, my phone’s alarm woke me up and I in turn woke Elmo. “I have a girlfriend!” he said. We were tired and cranky, but nonetheless filled with a steely resolve to get back into action. Actually, I was – Elmo was happy to go back to sleep… We got in touch with Jer (despite the alleged death of his phone) – he sounded remarkably chipper, due to the bottle of Becks no doubt. I too had a bottle of Becks, though it had been open all night. Still, it tasted ok. In the shower, I felt much better, but was wise enough to know that once out, the hangover would be back again. Sadly. However that wasn’t the case, the feeling of freshness remained! Woohoo!

My spirits sank once again however when I discovered a massive rip in the ass of my pants – I’ve no idea how long that was there the previous night… Elmo kindly loaned me a pair of black cords. Soon, and I’m not sure how or why, but Simon, Ronan and Orla arrived. Ronan is driving (?), so he kindly delivered us to the Star – a very-closed looking Star! The side-door was open, we noticed (after a brief panic attack), so in we went.

We must have collected Jer also, because he was one of the four that were there first. Four Carlsbergs were invoked. Jer and Elmo nipped off to the bank while the pints were on the way, so Simon cunningly ensured the lads received the dodgy first pulled pints of the day. People were slow to arrive, so phone calls were made. I noted that I had spent an incredibly low amount of money the previous night, so I decided to make amends by ringing Gav in Australia on my mobile. All four of us had a long chat with him, which will no doubt be reflected in my next bill. I wouldn’t mind except I can’t remember a word of the conversation!

Orlaith “5” Curtin was the next in, complete with hockey gear! She was in great form and bought pints and cigars for us all. She also amusingly called me “Alf” (as in the tv series). Apparently I look like Alf when I wear Vinnie’s sunglasses. A non-drinking Vinnie had also arrived, and in fact people were arriving all the time. Baz Jnr was accosted by all and sundry expecting him to piece together their nights for them.

Big BAZ continued the celebrity look-a-like game with the observation that Kieran is the image of Mayor “Diamond” Joe Quimby of Springfield… cue everyone in the Star doing Mayor Quimby impressions.

“Our city will not negotiate with terrorists. Is there a city nearby that will?”

“Can't we have one meeting that doesn't end with us digging up a corpse?”

“And after visiting the area for, uh, the past two weeks, I have determined it is not feasible to construct a super train between Springfield and Aruba…”

“Ducking this issue calls for real leadership…”

“You can't seriously want to make ban alcohol, it tastes great, makes woman appear more attractive, and makes a person virtually invulnerable to criticism?”

“Thank you Fat Tony. However, in the future, I would prefer a non-descript briefcase to the sack with a dollar sign on it…”

The Star had kindly provided some breakfast rolls – delicious and nutritious. Karaoke soon kicked off, Elmo and Sandra dominating proceedings early doors. In between songs, a few of us decided to mock Elmo and Civil Engineering. The word ‘scaffolding’ was sufficient to make us laugh hysterically, and also piss of Elmo. As a challenge, we tried to actually belch ‘scaffolding’, but three syllables is almost impossible alas.

Elmo, having an action-packed morning, was also suborned into retrieving balloons from the ceiling. Derry and Kieran lifted him lineout style from a table, and amazingly nobody was hurt. Meanwhile, Sandra and I began to indulge in our now-traditional ‘antix’. These included asking people to hold random items such as ashtrays, stools, bottles of cordial, then running away. We then had a sword fight with bottles of cordial, and then tried to stuff as many bottles of cordial as possible down my shirt. I also used Orlaith C’s hockey stick to re-enact an amusing incident from the Ball involving Ronan, Sca, and a hurley. Simon and I also had a fairly public fit of hysterics, but I couldn’t begin to explain what was so funny. Suffice it to say that ‘girth’ and ‘nosewheels’ were involved.

Kieran and I scaled the heights of the podium to woo the crowds into leaving – sadly there was a split in the choice of destinations. Most ended up in the Jim-sponsored Thirsty, though some did go with the Ladies’ Seconds to the Old College Bar for one. I, Orlaith C, Alma, and Orla Mac ended up flagging down the Killarney bus coming into town. Luckily the bus was practically empty, but the passengers there had to endure drunken banter with us!

The Thirsty

The Thirsty is uneventful except for more Jim & Sandra antix – this time offering people pizzas which are empty, walking around with a fire extinguisher, and my personal favourite, the placing of an empty beer keg on the road by the Maltings then running away around the corner as an irate motorist started beeping their horn madly! There were periscope impressions all round as we looked for new props to amuse ourselves with. Some people began to fade, obviously worn out by antix…

Jer on the Thirsty:

I don't really know when we arrived at the Thirsty....I have by now lost all sense of the world around me. Someone mentions that George Bush has got bored and World War 3 has started. Nobody cares. The WWTBAM machine no longer provides entertainment in the Thirsty so one ‘tradition’ at least is discontinued. The pre-ball reception for the Acc/Fin ball is on in the Thirsty so freshly groomed young revellers arrive in at around sixish. This confuses things as some of 'the lads' are still in tuxes and are asked how they're getting to Rochestown Park. It is pointed out that we are well into Day 2. I take this opportunity to change out of my tux in Mayor Quimby's car across the road where I had cleverly stored a change of clothes. A tactical masterstroke. The sign of a true HB Vetern. I am nearly knocked down crossing the road. Clearly motorists are unaware that I now think that I can telepathically stop traffic. Niamh O'Hanlon's boyfriend*, who I discover that I also tutor, escorts me across the road. There is a tinge of envy as I know that the Acc/Fin classes have a full ball to look forward to…

* Correct at time of print

Costigan’s

As the Thirsty got crowded, we moved on to Costigan’s (a personal favour to Dee who was working there). Cocktails were ordered immediately. Dee appeared to be sprightly and chirpy, somehow. This was the venue for more fading, in fact Gally and I took our drinking into the rain and fresh air outside to wake up. The livelier among us inside began singing, incurring the wrath of the Costigan’s staff. We were politely asked to leave, so the singers made up a song about being kicked out.

The Morgue

Next, to the Morgue (though one or two briefly went to the Wash apparently). Gally and Therese fell asleep together. Awwwwwwww. Elmo and Laura had an enlightening personal grooming-related discussion. Jer lost his glasses, so was literally blind drunk for a time until the glasses were located on the bar. Soon however Jer was asleep sitting on his barstool. Simon and I made the executive decision to send him home. To this end, we dragged him outside, but he was still unconscious. I threw a full pint of water over him. No effect! I threw another pint of water over him, and Jer began to wake, mumbling incoherently but angrily. Despite our best advice, Jer refused to go home, and I suppose his subsequent attendance of Redz justified that decision.

Nothing else remotely worthy of comment happens in the Morgue…

And finally, Redz

Jer amazingly remembers some details:

You would think that getting into Redz at this point would prove a bit difficult, and so it did, though amazingly not for me. The bouncer, some soccer bloke who I vaguely know, engages in banter, “How many have you had?" he asks... “About a billion!” I respond. He chuckles and ushers me in. There are rumours that Lenny has been refused. Numbers have now dwindled alarmingly. It seems that there is nobody left in Redz. Thankfully I locate Elmer. I tell Cliona, my faithful captain, of the dangers of over-indulging in alcohol before our crucial league decider. She takes note I think. I order another pint, apparently I fall asleep at the bar, while waiting for the pint. I realise that a low point has been reached. I mention to Elmer that I think it may be time to go. He agrees. So apparently does the bouncer.

All I remember is wandering around with Simon, and some of Jer’s team were there I think. That’s about all. I think we left early for Hillbilly’s. And so ends another Hockey Ball.

See the photos section (coming soon)