We’re in Dublin, but for the moment, let’s go back in time to our first trip to Ireland. I was in Ireland to compete in the Handball World Championship Tournament, hosted by the Gaelic Athletic Association and held in Kilkenny. We’re into the third round now, and I’m still alive. The next match is in a place called “Ballymore Eustace.”
Yesterday, Coolboy
Yesterday was quite a day. We spent most of it driving through the back roads of County Carlow and County Wicklow. We followed directions to handball courts way out in the country, in the village of Coolboy.
The further we went, the more convinced I was that something was amiss. There was no way we’re going to find handball courts that far out in the country, or so I thought.
But sure enough, there WERE handball courts way out there. Nice ones, too. The folks in the little village of Coolboy held raffles and other events to raise money to build these courts for their community. That says a lot about handball in Ireland, eh?
Today, Ballymore Eustace
Today’s match is in Ballymore Eustace. It’s even farther afield from Kilkenny than Coolbboy. But today, at least we know there really will be handball courts when we reach our destination.
Just like yesterday, no address was provided for the courts. I guess they figure that if you can find the town, you can find the courts. Also just like yesterday, when we got close, we had to stop and ask for directions. We’ve been doing a lot of that lately.
We’ve found that when asking directions in Ireland, it’s a good idea to not be in a hurry. Chances are, you’re going to get more than directions. You’re going to get a conversation, too, and probably make a new friend.
Beyond the Pale
Ballymore Eustace has some historical significance. Five hundred years ago, it was one of five walled towns guarding the boundary of the English Pale in Ireland. “The Pale” was the English-controlled territory surrounding English-Controlled Dublin.
After its 12th-century invasion of Ireland, England conquered vast tracts of land, but by the 16th century, the Gaels had beaten them back to an area surrounding Dublin. The fortified boundary around the Pale became England’s first line of defense around English-occupied Dublin.
Inside the Pale, English was the official language and the law was English law. Outside the Pale, native Irish people lived as they had before the English arrived. Transplanted English nobility regarded anything “beyond the Pale” as not up to their haughty standards.
Given it’s critical location, its no surprise that Ballymore Eustace saw its share of fighting, bloodshed, and nastiness. These days it’s a quiet little town surrounded by green rolling hills, stately manors, and sprawling stud farms. The only fighting, bloodshed, and nastiness today will be in the handball courts.
Handball at Ballymore Eustace
We found the courts in Ballymore Eustace, located next to the River Liffy – the same River Liffy that flows through Dublin. There were two courts. One measured 20’ x 40′ – the standard size the States. That’s where I’d play my match – my first match against an Irishman.
The other court, a much older one, measured 30′ x 60′. This used to be the standard court size in Ireland. To me, it seemed huge. I don’t know how long that court had been there, but someone said the roof was relatively new – it had been added sometime around 1920. Yikes!
Two Irish players I’d met yesterday at Coolboy took me into the old court to show me how the game used to be played. Today we use a hard rubber ball, but back in the day, they used a softer ball that was stitched together like a baseball. In fact, it looked kind of like a miniature baseball. The old balls didn’t bounce as much as the new ones, and the court was bigger, so players had to run farther and faster.
Those guys gave me an Irish handball history lesson that day. They told me to keep my eye out when we’re driving around, because ruins of old 3-three wall courts are scattered across the countryside.
I played my match in the 20’ x 40′ court, (thank goodness), and managed to eke out a victory. Before we left, the Irish guys presented me with that stitched handball to take home as something to remember Irish handball by. I said, “No way,” but they insisted. I’m glad they did.
Tomorrow’s (4th-round!) match will be played in Muckalee. So… Muckalee, here we come!
To be continued…
