Mickey Harte has been forced to shelve plans he’d already made to take on crisis-hit Derry on the 28th May next year after it emerged that the Oak Leaf County Board are considering asking the ladies team to represent the county due to a rash of defections from the men’s squad.
The seriousness of Derry’s approach upped a notch today after it emerged that top Derry GAA officials were scouring places with traditionally hardened women such as Knockloughrim, Lavey, Swatragh and Dungiven to mould a side physical enough to take on Harte’s men.
A Tyrone insider explained their predicament:
“We knew Derry were in bother with numbers but we never predicted this approach. We all know the qualities of rural Derry women so this has now moved from an average threat to a serious one. Harte is currently searching places like Carrickmore, Derrytresk, Tattyreagh, Galbally and the Rock for women who match Derry ones for physicality and brutality. This changes everything. We’re worried.”
The mass defections from the Derry senior squad have decimated a county already smarting from a series of defeats to their near neighbours in 2016. In one extreme case, an established Derry midfielder has opted out in 2017 by claiming he has forgotten how to play gaelic football due to early signs of dementia, despite scoring 2-14 in a charity match last week.
Our Tyrone source explained:
“We can handle Derry men. Derry women are a completely different matter. At spontaneous brawls in Clubland or the Glenavon, it was always the Derry women still standing when the dust settled. We have to admit it, we’re spooked.”
Peter Donnelly has reportedly drafted Owen Mulligan onto the backroom team as it is generally accepted he’s the best in the county at tackling women.
Following the news that mid-Ulster has been identified as a “giant hotspot” by scientists studying a gene defect which causes people to grow abnormally tall, a local long-standing old wives’ tale that Finn McCool spent a drunken night with a woman from Cookstown may actually be 100% true.
The gene can result in too much growth hormone, which is produced and released by the pituitary gland, a pea-sized gland just below the brain. It is believed that half the county have the gene though in most cases it’s rarely activated, going by the size of the Tyrone GAA team over the years.
Cookstown shopkeeper Benjamin Sheehy admitted that the development was not news to him:
“This part of the country is full of long, lanky bolloxes. See that man over there browsing around the magazine section, you should see the legs on his wife. Apparently they go the who way up.”
The Finn McCool tale was often passed off as a piece of local fiction but the news from the London School of Medicine Queen Mary appears to verify the story that he had a bit of luck with a local woman a few thousand years ago. Sheehy added:
“I’m not surprised, going by the calibre of men our women tackle outside the Greenvale on Saturday night . Anything goes it seems. McCool knew what he was at when he stopped off here. We’ve a bit of a reputation. Anyway, that’s why the Tall Ships never come here. They’re just normal ships to a lot of us.”
The Tyrone County Board have contacted as many carriers of the gene who are single at present in order to match them up so they may produce a couple of towering midfielders for 2034.
A hardened Coalisland drinker has repeated his intention to sue Paul Brady over the lyrics to ‘The Island’ which he claims to have written in the mid-80s on a brown chip bag in Baldo’s Pub after meeting the woman of his dreams in the Greenvale the night before.
Conor ‘The Red Boy’ McGlinchey (48) maintains he wrote the song as an ode to Ursula McStravick after a whirlwind romance at the Cookstown disco the night before Dennis Taylor won the World Snooker Championship in 1985. Brady, who released the song a year later, has yet to comment on the accusations and it is understood no one has asked him about it either.
Locals have questioned the legitimacy of McGlinchey’s claims after studying the lyrics of the song which include:
I want to take you to the Island,
And trace your footprints in the sand,
And in the evening when the sun goes down,
We’ll make love to the sound of the ocean.
They’re raising banners over by the markets,
Whitewashing slogans on the shipyard walls,
Witchdoctors praying for a mighty showdown,
No way our holy flag is gonna fall,
Up here we sacrifice our children
McGlinchey is adamant that Brady changed a few of the lines:
“There’s no way I mentioned anything about the ocean. I referenced the Lough but that’s probably not romantic enough for big-shot Brady. And for shipyard I said Kelly’s Yard. Everything else is spot on.”
Archaeologists have been called to the premises of one of Coalisland’s most hallowed drinking establishments to ascertain the exact date of the brown paper bag which was found down the back of a radiator during renovations. Initial reports suggest a sticker saying ‘Landi’s 12/10/15‘ casts immediate doubt on McGlinchey’s claims.
Meanwhile Kenny Rogers has confirmed that his ditty ‘Islands In The Stream’ was penned after visiting Coalisland during a particularly wet day, revealing he phoned his mother in America to say that ‘the Island’s in the stream’.
By Mary Ann Jackson
There has been mixed reaction to the news that a new Boxing Club in Galbally is to open its fine facilities very shortly in a state of the art gym built by local volunteers.
Many “auld hands” in the area had expressed their opinion that the younger generation were “goin saft” before recalling with pride the many times they had engaged in the noble pugilist art bare-chested in the snow and the rain in the car parks of The Gap, Knocknamoe Hotel, along with the neighbouring Cookstown venues of the Glenavon and the Greenvale not to mention the bouts in the middle of the busy A5 at Garvaghey or the on the main Dublin Derry road at Main Street Emyvale.
Now after a number of very successful boxing nights in the local Community Centre, locals appear to have developed a “Grá” for the better conditions boxing under a roof and a surprising new attachment to rules and regulations.
One lady, who recently moved to Galbally under the impression it was a modern settlement full of metrosexual New Men, expressed surprise to learn that a Boxing Club was opening shortly, commenting:
“I thought the local lads were more into synchronised swimming and singing along to girly videos, going on what I’d been told.”
She later required medical intervention when it was explained to her that a few local lassies are also up for the fight.
Some Galbally men are not impressed that the local lads are to fight under the Queensbury rules, believing Stormont’s fingerprints are all over this. Founder Arthur Nugent confirmed that this was not the case.
The man who walks up and down the shores of Lough Neagh selling handbags, sunglasses and mineral, despite there being no customers since 1990, has finally made a sale after Fr Fay bought a Choc-Ice for £1 yesterday evening.
Pat Quinn celebrated the windfall by buying ten 10p mix-ups at Falls’ shop, giving two to his wife Brenda.
Washingbay resort, which used to see thousands flock to from all over Europe to bathe in the icy eely waters, closed its doors to the public 24 years ago in preparation for the failed lignite excavations. Quinn, however, failed to give up on his sideline of selling useful goods to bathers and excited children and roamed the shore from 3pm-9pm every day since, rain, hail or dull.
An elated Quinn added:
“I’m ecstatic. I haven’t sold a thing since 1990 as no one comes here any more. I can’t describe the loneliness of it all. But I knew some day someone would cross my path and wasn’t it divine intervention – Fr Fay. He says he was just checking the area to make sure young ones weren’t curting in cars and hedges. I don’t give a damn what he was at – he bought a Choc-Ice. I’m retiring today.”
Fr Fay maintains this was just the start of a cleaning up of morals and standards in today’s youth in East Tyrone. From the front door of his mansion he told us:
“It’s a back to basics approach. All I see now is young ones walking about probably looking for courting and stuff wearing shorts and vests and winking. In my day I was in the bog stooling away or saying the rosary. I’ll put the romance out of them. I’ll be in the Greenvale this weekend and I’ll not hesitate to step in if I recognise one of my parishioners facing someone from another parish.”
Fr Fay added that the Choc-Ice was alright just.
Cookstown has become a ‘nightmare’ for pedestrians and motorists alike after it emerged that there are more residents on mobility scooters than those walking about on two feet. Of the 11’000 population in the district, 6000 were on the scooters ranging from ages 3-103 including an entire teaching staff at a local school.
Cynics have pointed out that the DLA culture in the town has become so endemic that people were prepared to give up their ability to walk for the majority of the day in order to claim the £56.75 per week tax-free benefit. Jack Sheehy, who won the 2009 disco-dancing competition in the Greenvale before succumbing to a mysterious ‘sore legs’ syndrome, denies the accusations:
“People should walk in my shoes before they make a judgement. Or you know what I mean. One minute I was an unemployed dancing extraordinaire, the next I’ve deadly sore legs and on a scooter. It’s hard for me to you know. There be times when a good song comes on and I instinctively get up to dance and fall over after three minutes or so when I remember my legs are deadly sore.”
Trouser stall owner Imran Kant admits it’s almost impossible to hold the town market now on a Saturday.
“It’s like an attack of the mobility scooterers. At 9am you can hear the whirl of the wheels from all around and before long there are 3000+ Cookstonians smashing into each other on their way for the bargains. It’s a savage sight. You end up spending more time lifting up overturned scooters in the rush to get a pair of £8 jeans.”
Doubts over the legitimacy of some of the claims have been magnified after a picture was released on Twitter showing souped-up scooters being raced down the main street at four in the morning, cheered on by other recipients of the DLA allowance, jumping up and down when bets came up.
In recent years, it was noticed that the average Brocagh adult consumed two full 12 lb turkeys over the space of four days around Christmas, more than double that of anyone anywhere on the planet. This year it appears that the average per person in the area was 2.5 turkeys, resulting in some unusual behaviour today.
Local shopkeeper Billy Dorman explained:
“Yes, there’s a definite side effect this year. The local lads seem to have developed a reddy skin thing drooping from their chin. I think the official name is the wattle. Ugly looking think. And when they see a good looking girl come in, it flares and goes all red, and their hair seems to fan and stand on end. Some sight when they’re just in looking for bread.”
Greenvale niteclub owner Kieran Hendron confirmed that Brocagh ones are unmistakeable on the dancefloor this Christmas:
“Aye, they strut. From the moment they arrive it’s like a pile of John Travoltas in the one place. With every step they cock their head forward and make a ‘gobble’ sort of noise. And with that wattle thing hanging from their bake…..”
Government health officials admitted that although the physical similarities are funny, a negative side-effect is the aggression. Two Derrylaughan men was set upon by a ‘rafter’ of skateboarding Brocagh lads down at the Washingbay when they eyed up one of their sisters. PSNI spokeswoman said the Brocagh gang emitted a high-pitched shrill indicating they were becoming aggressive which developed into intense sparring where the Broconians leap at them with the large, sharp talons, and tried to peck and grasp the head of the bewildered sons of Kevin Barry.
Chicken will only be sold in Brocagh tomorrow.
Tensions are running high tonight in Ballinderry after a leaked document from the ‘maps department’ at Stormont indicates that Ballinderry will now be considered wholly in Tyrone, starting from August 1st, after a re-alignment of the Ballinderry River.
The Ballinderry parish has long straddled the Tyrone border with the sizeable Ballylifford village until now claimed as being on the Derry side with Derrychrin, a much more civilised community, on the Tyrone side. The Ballinderry River was seen as the natural geographical border but that is about to change with the proposed new route for the river. A Tyrone county council spokesman told us:
“If the rumours are true, then this is class news. Everyone knows that the best looking women at the Greenvale come from the Derry side of the river. Our parents didn’t allow us to fraternize with them for obvious reasons. More importantly, Ballinderry’s All-Ireland title in 2002 is now on our records. We will be parading that team around Omagh tomorrow week. I also believe they won 12 Derry titles. Those sides will now play our champions for that same year. The 1927 fixture will be hard to fix up against Donaghmore Eire ogs.”
Not all welcomed the news with such good humour. An elderly local, named simply as “McGuckin”, reacted angrily:
“Balls to this. We won’t go down without a fight. We used to bate the shite out of them Moortown and Ardboe ones on the field. We’ll do the same on our doorsteps when they come for us. We’ll lay waste to the land as a last resort. There’s no way I’m shouting for the red arses next year. Yiz can take Derrychrin but we’ll be Oak Leafers til the deathbed.”
The PSNI have issued a warning to anyone resisting the swtichover that they will be dealt with severely. On August 2nd, houses north of the river will be searched and any pictures of Dana, Seamus Heaney, Henry Downey, Enda Muldoon or Conleith Gilligan will be destroyed. Small statues of Frank McGuigan and Chris Lawn have been sent to all households in the present Derry region of the parish to help them acclimatise to the new changes. The whole of Lissan might be given to Derry as a thank you.
A Tyrone drinks manufacturer is hoping to capitalise on the good start to the summer by launching a new type of cider drink, with pig’s blood as the prime ingredient. The brains behind the idea, local businessman and border-line fruitcake Eugene Kerr, explained the deranged thinking that has brought the drink from initial concept to supermarket shelf.
“You’ve got your Magner’s made with apples and of course Bulmer’s is already made out of bulls. One step on and you’ve got Stymer’s made out of pig blood with quare wee floaty bacon bits. Stand aside Strongbow, there’s a new kid in town! Those boys in Armagh can’t be having it all their own way with their fancy apple orchards. What’s Tyrone got plenty of to make cider with? Pigs. Oh, and bog, but I tried that one. I’ve learned from my mistakes”.
If the Stymer’s brand is successful, Kerr plans to expand the range by creating a partnership with Moy Park Chickens. “Once people get used to ‘Pig Stymer’s’, wait until they get a taste of our ‘Chicken Thigh-der’. We’ve more chickens in Tyrone than you can shake a stick at. It’s going to be big. Maybe even as big as Irn Bru”, predicted an excited Kerr.
The marketing launch to the food and drink press took place at the Greenvale Hotel in Craigavon last Thursday night. Launched with the slogan, ‘For Days When It’s Hot. Bacon Hot’, Kerr was evasive about the feedback from the assembled journalists.
“Well, I couldn’t quite hear the comments for all the retching and the like that was going on, but sure people just need to open their mind a bit. I remember folk in Greencastle started riots when they heard some people were adding water to the Bushmills. Same goes for Stymer’s. A few months and people won’t be able to get enough of the taste of fizzy alcoholic pig blood”.
Promotional activity which took place in Dungannon main street on Saturday under a big banner saying ‘Can You Take The Stymer’s Test?!’ was hurriedly abandoned after an outbreak of mass vomiting amongst participants
Francie Molloy’s victory in Mid-Ulster have seen a rise in extreme beard-sporting men across the county. Molloy’s fashion statement has been embraced warmly by the locals who wanted a new fad as the Dennis Taylor upsidedown glasses were starting to look dated.
Benburb Sunday organisers have warned Justin Bieber that if he’s late or takes ill during his performance in the townland this summer that they’ll kick ‘seven shades of shite’ out of him. The threat was sent by fax.
MOTHERS’ DAY IN ARDBOE CANCELLED
Mothers’ Day in Ardboe has been postponed for a year after a shop in the village mistakenly advertised it as Mother’s Day, with the apostrophe in the wrong place signalling it was just one mother. Children took this as gospel and neglected to buy anything for their own mothers. Mrs McGuigan is the lucky mother.
STREET LIGHTING IN GREENCASTLE REJECTED BY LOCALS
Greencastle residents have cut down the recently erected street-lighting on the main street. They said it was shining a light on the ‘things’ they do at night.
A 21-year old carpenter from The Plum ‘got a woman’ at the Greenvale last weekend. The priest is to mention the success at Mass tonight and the choir have promised to sing the song from Titanic.
GORTIN MONITOR KOREAN CRISIS
The Gortin International War Monitoring Committee have issued a statement saying they’re keeping an eye on ‘them there Koreans’ and that they’re not afraid to ‘start swinging’ if they don’t calm down a bit.
TONY DONNELLY PISSED OFF
Tyrone assistant manager is reportedly ‘pissed off’ at having to stand behind the wire during games with the ‘ordinary plebs from the East’, complaining of wire marks on his hands. Negotiations to do a swop deal every now and again with Mickey are on-going but Harte is refusing to budge, stating an allergy to wire mesh and people close to the lough.
My husband refuses to go shopping. Years ago, when we were just curting, he’d blissfully browse around Marks and Spencers or the Spar with me as I agonised over whether to buy brown or white bread for three quarters of an hour. Now that we’re married and with twelve children, he won’t set foot in any retail establishment. He says he gets severe panic attacks at the thought of it and when I mention the word ‘shop’ he rocks forwards and backwards, slapping his face with his hand, screeching ‘no’. What can I do? MELISSA, CABRAGH
I’ve seen this many times before. I used to have a husband who’d set himself on fire as soon as I mentioned painting the gable wall. One day I called his bluff and painted it myself, a nice big union jack. I never had to ask again. The self-flaming stopped. Call his bluff too, Melissa. The next time you’re out, buy him a pink cardigan and a pair of those jeans that hang down around the arse. That’ll do wonders for his ability to shop himself. Or liver sandwiches.
My neighbour’s dog is sniffing around my bitch, a three year old Pomeranian. His dog is a heavy-set Alsatian. Should I be worried? MICKEY, MOUNTJOY
I brought my children up to be good upstanding protestants. I taught them right and wrong, how to be courteous and respectful and to follow the path to happiness. You can understand my great shock when I read my son’s letter from Edinburgh where he is studying medicine. He tells me that he now does Jiu Jitsu. How could he turn against his own religion? GODFREY, TULLYHOGUE
Give it time. It might just be a phase. My son went to Bundoran one weekend and came back with a Declan Nerney CD. I locked him in a dark room for a month. He’s OK now.
Is it possible for a man from The Rock to find a deadly woman? I’ve been leeching about the Greenvale dance floor since 1999 and haven’t even got a sniff of a woman yet. If you look at all the lads still standing about at the end of the night, they’re either from the Rock of Greencastle. What can I do? I’m sick of piling into a Vauxhall Nova at the end of the night to do a bit of diffing to entertain ourselves. CIARAN, THE ROCK
The Rock you say? Get used to it. If you have no second cousins in their mid-30s stuck for a man then you’re snookered I’m afraid. Embrace the diffing.
I’ve recently found love but am in a bit of a dilemma. I have three brothers, one is in prison for repeated public exposure, one is a wanted drugs dealer in Dublin and the other lives in Armagh. Both my parents are also in prison for running a brothel in Kildress. My only sister sells counterfeit DVDs for paramilitaries. So, the big question is – do I tell her about the brother who lives in Armagh? PAUL, BERAGH
No. Definitely not. She’ll run a mile.
I sold the woman from Derrytresk the handbag she used against Dromid Pearses and Kerry man Declan O’Sullivan. Am I a bad person? SUSIE, COALISLAND
Yes. Only because you didn’t fill it with hammers.
I’d like to reply to the boy from the Rock further up on this page. Are you the boy who bought be a drink last weekend in the Greenvale just before midnight? If so, there was no vodka in the coke ye miserable clift. BERNADETTE, LISSAN
Looks like Ciaran from the Rock will be single for another while at least.
The sleepy Tyrone village of the Rock was plunged into mayhem last night when rival gangs from Pomeroy and Cookstown clashed on a rampart just off the Rockdale Road.
Cudgels, shillelaghs and wet sods of turf were said to have been employed to settle a long-standing argument over the comical merit of the award-winning sitcom Mrs Brown’s Boys.
With Pomeroy fiercely in the no-camp, they faced stiff opposition from Cookstown locals who have recently started up a Mrs Brown Appreciation Society. Some were said to have attended the pre-arranged brawl dressed in the same garb as Mrs Brown herself. Eye-witness reports state that the Pomeroy nay-sayers came out slightly on top but that analysis is sternly denied by Cookstown Mrs Brown Society chairperson Jay Sheehy:
“1-0 til us I thought. Mrs Brown is the best comedy since Jasper Carrot. Them Pomeroy ones are so serious. Like, when was the last time you went there to see a pantomime? Their local primary school did a version of Schindler’s List for Christmas. Like for Jaysus sake. There were parents throwing up. This fighting has to stop and that will only be achieved when they lighten up a bit.”
The Pomeroy squad remained unrepentant:
“We fairly laid into them, boys,” claimed Fran Grimes. “I’ve seen funnier month’s minds that that shower of shite they call Mrs Brown’ Boys. I’m ashamed to be Irish so I am. It’s nearly worse than The Hole in the Wall Gang. Nearly. Seriously like, it’s Fr Ted in drag. Pre-historic lump of dung: Man with dress says ‘feck’; Drunken audience piss themselves laughing; repeat for half an hour. A friend of mine started to watch it, regretted it, couldn’t find the remote so attempted to burn his own house down. This is only the beginning too. The Glenavon and Greenvale are going to cut up rough this weekend over it. And that’s not a real audience I think. Just a pile of turkeys or something. “
Although the PSNI were aware of the arranged brawl, the decided to let the fight go ahead for ‘a bit of craic in the Rock’.
Outrage and anger engulfed Cookstown last night after a 66-year-old man was heard to say he didn’t like sausages. The remarkable outburst occurred as an elderly woman sauntered past Sheehy’s Chippy on Sunday morning after visiting her uncle and overheard a discussion between a Brazilian tourist and local man Seamy Gas.
Mary Mulligan told us:
My hearing aid had been turned up as my 115-year old uncle can hardly speak, so I heard the whole lot. The foreign lad was asking if this was where George Best ate his sausages. Seamy shrugged his shoulders and I distinctly heard him say “sure how would I know, I hate the hoors”. He then gave him the middle finger.
Mulligan told anyone she met for the remainder of the journey of what happened, even knocking on the doors of families she didn’t know. Within an hour, up to 1000 men, women and children formed a mob and stormed through the centre of the town holding lighted blackheads and carrying banners with slogans such as ‘sausages are deadly’ or ‘you’re fuckin dead meat, Seamy’.
Late last night Mr Gas was holed up in his flat outside the Greenvale with over 5000 protesters gathered on his lawn and back field. The police refused to intervene with one PSNI constable telling us, “you reap what you sow. He has made his own bed. If there’s a riot, there’s a riot”. Mr Gas’s lawyer has issued a statement claiming Mrs Mulligan heard it wrong and that Mr Gas will eat a whole plate of sausages in the town square to appease the locals.