Rugby

This morning was once again dominated by my paper, for which I finally made good process on, and got about seven of my needed eight pages written, cited, and to sing Handel’s Messiah when read.

"Economics of tourism! Hallelujah!"

It was actually a pretty work-intense day, only punctuated by occasional breaks for tea and toast (I realize how ridiculously British that sounds, but I call it cheap brain food), and to discuss the other aspects of the project with Kelsey and Libby. At least until 4:00 when I hit a brick wall and could no longer physically form words to make sentences about the tourist industry and the Celtic Tiger.

Twenty years of growth and it all fell apart in one quarter? What does it mean??!?!

My timing actually couldn’t have been better because Danielle, Libby, Matt, Mo, and Rob had left about an hour before to go to Dublin to watch the Ireland vs. England rugby match. Kelsey had also reached a stopping point in her paper about trains, planes, and automobiles (I’m only sort of kidding), so we went into town and found them at the Living Room, which is a kind of sports bar we frequented earlier in the year due to its affinity to play American football games.

The rugby match was actually really fun to watch. The stadium the team plays at is less than a mile from our apartments, so it would have been really cool to go watch it live, or at least it would have if the nosebleed seats didn’t cost €150. Obviously there’s a huge rivalry between England and Ireland, and I actually felt a little bad for the two guys at the Living Room who had chosen to come in red and white and giant English flags.

Thus proving that everyone hates the red and white.

Ireland ended up winning 24-8, which was taken pretty well by everyone at the bar, everyone in the streets, everyone on the train, and pretty much the entire city in general.

I wish I better understood the rules and how the game is played, but I only had a very basic understanding, which was enough to realize when something good was happening (i.e. running to score), and when something bad was happening (i.e. English interception). Despite my rudimentary knowledge, it was extremely entertaining and I’d love to continue to watch the matches, if only on television.

"Take that, English scum!"

We came home after the match, and I’ve been tinkering with my paper again. They’re playing cards next door, so I might go join them before calling it a night. Tomorrow we’re off to Wicklow!

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