Through being a bowler and then a police officer for nine-plus years, I have become friends with most of the staff at Limerick Bowl. About five years ago, staff at Limerick Bowl and I thought it would be good to get kids to bowl with police officers as an activity for Limerick Bowl?s Junior Leagues.
I was a cub reporter on a local newspaper in Limerick city, and I used to cover the district court meetings. All of life passed through the Limerick courthouse. Misery, malevolence, the dark side of humanity... I tell ya, it made 'Angela's Ashes' look like 'The Wonderful World of Disney.'
I think the language as spoken in Limerick and Cork has not really been written; 'City of Bohane' is a combination of the two. Bohane is a little kingdom. When I began writing it, I realised that it was in the future and that it was a place that didn't care about anything that happened outside it.
Ireland is not at all a simple place, and in many ways it is spare and sad. It has no wealth, no power, no stability, no influence, no fashion, no size. Its only real arts are song and drama and poem. But Limerick alone has two thousand ruined castles and surely that many practicing poets.
In the early nineties, I was a cub reporter on a city newspaper in Limerick, and assigned to the courthouse there. One day, an old detective sergeant came and whispered to me in the press pit. He pointed out a young offender, a teenager who was up for stealing a car or something relatively minor, and said, 'See this kid? He'll kill.'
Pat Fox out to the forty(yard line) and grabs the sliothar(ball), I bought a dog from his father last week. Fox turns and sprints for goal, the dog ran a great race last Tuesday in Limerick. Fox to the 21 fires a shot, it goes to the left and wide......and the dog lost as well.
Micheal O Muircheartaigh
H. L Mencken's Dictionary of the American Language supplies a long list of slang terms for being drunk, but the Irish are no slouches, either. They're spannered, rat-arsed, cabbaged, and hammered; ruined, legless, scorched, and blottoed; or simply trolleyed or sloshed. In Kerry, you're said to be flamin'; in Waterford, you're in the horrors; and in Cavan, you've gone baloobas, a tough one to wrap your tongue around if you ARE baloobas. In Donegal, you're steamin', while the afflicted in Limerick are out of their tree.
Ah, yeah. Yeah, tis awful all right. Well, your Mam wanted me to talk to you about it, but... ' He stopped; he didn't know what else to say. 'Yeah? Ah, I know the score, Dad. She wants me to be careful, is it?' 'Ah, no. Well, yeah; there's that, of course. No, she wanted... well, if you'd any questions, you know?' I wasn't sure if he wanted me to say yes, or if he just wanted me to say no, and save him having to be awkward. He looked lost. I felt like I wanted to save him 'No, I've no questions, Dad. It's all right, shur.' He looked at me then. His eyes went wet, like he was going to start bawling. If we were in a film, he might have hugged me. But we were in Limerick, so he just said: 'Well, so, ' and put his one glove back on. From The Boys of Summer
He cleared his throat and held up one hand dramatically. 'Green grass breaks through snow. Artemis pleads for my help. I am so cool.' He grinned at us, waiting for applause. "That last line was four syllables.' Artemis said. Apollo frowned. 'Was it?' 'Yes. What about I am so bigheaded?' 'No, no, that's six syllable, hhhm.' He started muttering to himself. Zoe Nightshade turned to us. 'Lord Apollo has been going through this haiku phase ever since he visited Japan. Tis not as bad as the time he visited Limerick. If I'd had to hear one more poem that started with, There once was a godess from Sparta-" 'I've got it!' Apollo announced. 'I am so awesome. That's five syllables!' He bowed, looking very pleased with himself.