Classic Dublin Games

by John Conroy

1. The Waiting Game
As the sun sets, go for a leisurely stroll along the Liffey Boardwalk carrying an expensive camera. The Waiting Game begins in earnest some time later when you wake up in A&E with your head split open. The basic premise of the game is to be seen by a doctor and to get home or into a bed before any of your fellow contestants. The par score is 12 hours: win a point for every hour you shave off this time. Be ruthless and cunning—pass yourself off as Mary Harney’s niece or Glenda Gilson’s cousin. Start a drunken fight in the hope that you’ll be shown to a doctor just to get rid of you. Better yet, get someone to stab you in the car park. Painful, yes, but watch the covetous looks from waiting-room plebs as you’re ushered through the velvet security doors.

2. The Liveline Game
Each player rings up RTÉ and tries to blag her way through to Joe. Competitors should choose important, relevant topics that are sure to polarise public opinion, like cable TV charges or rudeness at Lidl. The idea is to stay on air for as long as possible, giving The Duffster only an occasional chance to distance himself from any hint of controversy. If an hysterical banshee calls in to argue the opposite viewpoint, just talk over her. Remember: any silence on your part will give the producer an opportunity to cut you off and blacklist your number. Bonus points for saying “It’s a disgrace”, “I find it outrageous” or “Joe you fat pig.”

3. No-Nerney Coup d’État
It’s the second-Sunday of September, the day 80,000 culchies descend on the capital to roar on their team from the queue in Supermacs. Yes, they get confused by one-way systems and gawp in wonder at Liberty Hall, but each one drives a Bentley and owns a six-bed mansion that cost €100 to build. They run the government too. And the Civil Service. And the weather, probably. It’s time we put them in their place.

Air-drop 40,000 flyers onto Croke Park at half-time, advertising a free Declan Nerney gig outside Leinster House after the game. Come six o’clock, expect to see a million country’n’Irish fans milling around the seat of the nation’s power, togged out for a good jive.

When the realisation dawns that Nerney has forsaken them, things will turn ugly. Leinster House, being handy, will bear the brunt of the mob’s rage and be torn asunder. The army will be powerless to stop the destruction. With fire lighting up the sky and sirens blaring through the night, it will be an ugly time for our nation.

Thus will end the old regime, dominated by Kilkenny, Kerry and Tyrone people. Their farmland will be confiscated and centrally redistributed, and the rich farmers will be forced to work off their crimes in the Kildare ‘Intel’ gulags. Emperor Ahern will oversee this process, and we shall live forever more in peace and harmony, free of the old inequalities.

And Dublin will again be ruled by the Dubliners.