The Luck of the Irish

I think we can all agree the Hogs dodged an Irish Car Bomb by not drawing Notre Dame in the first round of the Tournament -- and thus having to play the Fighting Irish on St. Patricks Day. So, who do they play instead? A traditional Big East powerhouse founded by an Irish Catholic Bishop.  Seton Hall founder, Father James Roosevelt Bayley was ordained at ... yep ... St. Patricks Cathedral in New York.

...great...

I believe we can all agree that racism is abhorrent in all forms.  And we would never stoop to using generalizing and offensive terms like "Mick," or "Potatoe Eater," or "Catholic." But the only way the Razorbacks could be more affronting to Irish-Americans today would be to play a team with a starting five that included:

  • G: Green Alligator - Junior, Ochopee, Fla./ H: 1'3" (14'4" long) W: 990 lbs.
  • G: Long Neck Goose - Soph, Halifax, N.S./H: 73 cm wingspan, W: 6.5 kg
  • F: Humpty Back Camel - Junior, Winston-Salem, NC/ H: 7'1, W: 2,200 lbs
  • F: Chimpanzee - Frosh, West Tanzania High School/ H: 3'8", W: 201 lbs
  • C: Loneliest of all Unicorn - Senior, Indus Valley Civilization/ H:  8', W: Inflatable

Some time ago, our fair hamlet was home to a legendary family we believed to be Irish Catholic. The Farrells at least have an Irish sounding name, and they had more kids than Geoff Edwards (we're kidding on that last part, obviously).  We don't know if Farrell's bar on Dickson St. is related to those Farrells, but we are going to drink beer there today until the Hogs win -- or a leprechaun personally busts our bracket.

Farrell's Lounge, Bar and Grill -- 4:30 to 6:30
311 W Dickson St #101
(The Hogs v. Pirates tip at 12:30 if you can call in sick).

In other news, our new website have an events page.  Check it.


We'll close todays lesson with a true story about the spirit of St. Patrick: 

A young Irishman approached a bright, attractive blond at a bar.  Let's say her name was Liz. The Irishman said something largely unintelligible, and the fetching young Liz politely introduced herself, saying, "So...you went to Notre Dame?"  Quizzically, the Irishman gruffed, "Naaahhh, I went to Maryland.  GO TERPS!!!"

Puzzled, the quick-thinking lady inquired, "Then what's with the sweatshirt, jackass?" referring to his grey pullover with the word IRISH written in navy block letters.  The Irishman looked down at his own chest, thought, and said, "Well, I'm Irish... so ... like ... enough said." Not sensing the humor, Liz replied, "That's fucking ridiculous!  I should get a sweatshirt that says 'POLLACK' across my chest!?!?!"  

The Irishman, cutting his loses, slurred "Liz, I like the way you look. The personality needs work." As he walked away, she called to him, "Well, I can't say you're not honest."


...and they lived happily ever after...

(Though the two never saw each other again, and maintained entirely separate lives.) 

 

The End.