Goalie - Must have 'great goalmouth presence'... which is secret code for being fat enough to have his own gravitational pull. Always in the 40-50 age bracket, this is a gent that will almost convince you that he played minor for the county in goal, even though the last time he got his knees dirty diving was at a céilí in 1965 when his version of The Hucklebuck went out of control, with numerous casualties.

Right Corner Back - The quiet man of the line-up. He seems to escape the jokes in the dressing room just because no one has ever seen him angry and are afraid of hidden depths. Unmarried farmer with severe emotional baggage. Only physical contact with a woman consists of the 'Sign of Peace' handshake at Mass on a Sunday morning, so he always makes sure to sidle into the pew beside a couple a' fine lookin' young wans.

Full Back - First started playing football some time in the Pleistocene Epoch. Nicknamed Sledge like "yer man outta U2". Will get a nosebleed if he passes beyond his own 50-yard line. Utterly, utterly useless and yet is a great hit with the fans. Quite likes the smell of blood.

Left Corner Back - Has all the footballing skills of a piece of cheese and yet has been known to disappear up corner-forward's arses for days on end. An absolute cast-iron guarantee to be made mark the other team's young and absurdly fast superstar in the making.

Right Half Back - Just out of minor, this boyo is sadly not going to get anywhere near the senior team... and yet hasn't missed a training session since early 1989. Selection is basically the manager's way of proving that he "doesn't give a damn who you are, if you're not down training we're not going to give you a game".

Centre Back - Disgruntled former senior player, tried to remove senior manager at AGM and now has about as much chance of playing senior as he does of playing Hamlet in the Globe. Hasn't been junior training all year and is still absolutely guaranteed his spot on the team.

Left Half Back - County u-16 star, great white hope for the entire club. About 5 foot 4, he is still told to get under the kickouts and 'take the game to the opposition'... secret code for don't pass it to anyone unless your life is in serious danger.

Midfielder - Chronic alcoholic who last scored a point in the late 70s and yet reckons he is justified in having a go for a point from anywhere inside the opposition's half. Well-liked character because he always gets his round in at the post-match piss-up.

Midfielder - The full back's older brother, who sports a rather strange looking bandage on his knee - probably hiding teeth marks or something. Prone to making strange guttural noises every time he strains himself. Eats five dinners a day and is a prime suspect for a coronary.

Right Half Forward - Quietly spoken businessman who hails from the village but is living now in Dublin. Drives a flash motor. Lads who live in the pub in the town don't know what to make of him "but he was an awful annoying bollox in National School".

Centre Forward - The third of the set of brothers that includes the full back and midfielder. Is the target of all the brother's clearances... ALL of them. Probably the local A.I. man or something.... By the way, that's not A.I. in the Steven Spielberg meaning of the word.

Left Half Forward - Utterly, utterly useless 25 year old who by some fluke of nature happens to be a deadly accurate free-taker. Tries to avoid open play altogether as he is far too important to the team to get injured. Is basically the team's main source of points.

Right Corner Forward - Happily married man who hasn't played football since he was 12 but has suddenly decided to take up the game again. His natural talent - like his genitalia - is completely and utterly over shadowed by his beer belly. Guaranteed to bag a goal or two and gain for himself some ridiculous nickname like "Schillaci" or something.

Full Forward - Hasn't scored since the end of the Emergen

You spend all winter on the beer speculating on who will be brought in to manage the junior hurling team next year.

The hardest tackle you will make all year is in an indoor soccer match in January when you break your brother-in-law's leg

There are 35 at training under lights on a bitter February night (unfit but enthusiastic) - the average for August is 7 (unfit, sick of training and making silage)

The club treasurer spends some time at the AGM lamenting the yearly cost of running a club and especially the bill for hurleys; a month later, the team is being urged to "give 'em timber lads - we have plenty of hurleys on the sideline..."

When you go for a pick-up, you tap the ball at least twice on the hurley before you fumble it
Ground hurling is for juveniles and camogie players
The full forward has his son and grandnephew in the corners

For a 2.30 throw-in, you start packing your gearbag at 2.40 and still manage to be on the field before the referee even arrives

You can get a match called off because your star player is playing divisional under-16 the following week

Your tight marking corner back never gives an inch - except of course, when the ball gets inside his own 50 and he charges out after it with all the other backs, forgetting that the other team are even on the field

Your goalie lets in a sitter every second game - this usually happens after you have scored 5 points from play to reel in a difficult half-time deficit
Or in the first minute if it is a final

Your full-forward can't score but "he's a good man to break up the play"
Your centre forward can't score either but "he'll stop a good man from hurling"

Your championship is either a round robin that requires you to play six league games to eliminate one team, or a knockout starting in October

Before every match, the forwards are told to stay wide and not bunch - but this is not what happens. The only time any forward goes wide is to take a sideline cut or if they are looking for water

Your backs play from behind waving a hurley with one hand whilst resting the other on the forward's back - this is why all your scores and all their scores come from frees
You can't field a team during the fortnight of the Leaving Cert

Your star player always has one other brother "that was even better but he couldn't stay off the drink"

The more people instruct you to "let fly if you don't get it up the first time", the more you ignore them.

After a players meeting held the Saturday night before, where all the talk is about the lads given up the drink for the whole year & lads never missing a training session, your approach this year renewed hope that it would be different than the shambles that was last year.

You arrive in the door from work & forget that you’ve training in 2 hours time & eat the dinner, followed by tea & whatever biscuits are still left in the tin of USA biscuits from the Christmas.

No sooner do you stand up from the table than you remember you’ve to head down to training, your brain hits overdrive as you try to think of an injury that you possibly could have...that you only sustained in the last 48hrs, because as you explained to the players in the smoking room in the local pub on Saturday night, you’ve never felt in better shape. Jesus that was some session though Saturday night.

You decide that you better head down to training (sure it might not be too bad after all its the 1st night back & the manager won’t want to torture ye...after all the players had no respect for him last year, maybe he’ll go easy on you tonight while the other lads are running laps). You grab the jacket & the gear bag & head for the door. You remember your going without the fags, but you reckon your better off not bringing them, after all you told the lads you were off them!!!

You pull in to the pitch & see lads sitting in cars looking out at some lad whose setting out cones all round the field, you decide to head in to the dressing room, show the lads how serious you are!!!

You wander in & find the manager & 3 selectors standing there chatting...but if there in here, then whose out there putting down the cones. They explain that they’ve got an army lad in for the next 2 months to get ye in good shape...you feel the spuds churning in your stomach...something tells you, you’ll see them again before the nights out.

You break out the brand new gear & a few lads admire the new Puma boots you bought, €180 you inform them...there also the same 1’s Ciarian Whelan & Munnelly wear. You check the cogs, which look like something NASA came up with, but you reckon it’ll give you that extra yard in training.

You chat to the same lads that you only spoke to last year, the same lads who arrived late last year, are arriving late as you head out the dressing room door & into the bitterly cold January night air, it most definately wasn’t this cold earlier on.

You run on to the pitch & survey the cones laid out, its hard to know exactly what sort of football drills this lad is likely to be using here...you then notice that there’s actually not an O’Neills football in sight. Your run slows down to a jog, then to a walk...no point over doing it yet!!!

Training starts at 8, although its 8.15 & lads are still coming out on to the field...little do they realise that everytime a lad comes after 8 your trainer adds on an extra lap to be run at the end of training by everyone.

You start off training by running aimlessly over & back across the field...every now & again the trainer shouts for ye to sprint...but your already at full tilt to stay with them as it is. After 10-15 mins of agony ye stop for stretching, this apparently was only the warm up...

After you’ve finished stretching ye proceed to run around the field for what seems an eternity, but what the trainer informs you has only been 12 mins!!! At this stage your lungs are killing you & you regret ever taking up smoking 40 a day, & your dinner is slowly working its way back up your stomach!!!

Your also well sick of the county minor player lapping you on these runs...who does he think he is? It comforts you a huge amount when you discover that he’s recently been dropped off the panel, yet still trained tonight in the gear that you know his mother went out & bought him!!!

Another 45 mins of running laps, sprints, shuttle runs, sit ups, push ups, & more laps, the trainer say