Mostly Hurling:Games are the last resort of those who do not know how to idle was a quote I heard recently. Homer Simpson's advice to son Bart was: "Son, when you participate in sporting events, it's not whether you win or lose, it's how drunk you get."

One of Groucho Marx's many jokes goes: "I watched a cricket match for three hours waiting for it to start."

Mobile phones and email have become the latest conduit for jokes these days or for what some consider to be humour. Some of the phone jokes doing the rounds are fairly pathetic. The Cork footballers are the butt of the latest round. Two weeks ago it was the Limerick hurlers. I've no doubt but that the Ireland rugby team will soon figure.

On the other hand some of the email jokes are excellent. I receive a daily supply from a Cork hurler who shall remain nameless for now.

But in sport every dressingroom has a joker. We Irish are able to laugh at ourselves, we see the funny side of things quite readily.

Early in the summer I heard top football referee and funny man Pat McEnaney tell the story of a dog that came onto the field during one of the International Rules games last autumn. At a break in play he heard someone shout: "McEnaney, get the dog off the field". As quick as lightning came another voice: "Don't Pat, give the dog the whistle and you get off".

But better than the jokes are the many great stories that are told of sporting giants of the past and present.

A few years ago I had the good fortune to meet a gentleman called Eddie O'Donnell. Eddie is a Tipperary man in exile in Cork for many years. Dónal O'Grady brought him to our management set-up as our statistician. Eddie is kind, unobtrusive, understanding, gentle and caring human. His house in Mallow, I understand, has been an open house for years. Jenny, his wife, and himself have an always-boiling kettle. It's a home that has welcomed people from all walks of life; musicians, politicians, religious, children, neighbours and of course many many sportsmen.

He fitted in to our group right from the start. He earned the respect of the players very quickly. He is a good listener and very quickly became a friend to all. Since I got to know him well I realised he has a network or acquaintances that would put a certain Italian-American subculture in the ha'penny place (thanks Sopranos). Eddie worked for a financial institution in a former life so he developed the know-how needed for his next portfolio; that of players representative.

If the players were asked to do any promotional work Eddie did the wheeling and dealing. After another while he became the provider of inspirational posters for the dressingroom. In short, Eddie was roped in to do as much as everybody else in the management.

Himself and selector Donie Collins and O'Grady became great buddies very quickly. Their common denominator was "hurling tales from the past". They spent many hours entertaining all and sundry with stories of great hurlers and great hurling times. Eddie has an endless supply of stories of times past, which he recites with consummate ease. Many of his stories are Tipperary-based.

One such story featured Sweeper Ryan, who, with his brothers Mutt and Johnny, played with Tipp in the 40s. Sweeper took up refereeing when his playing days were over. On a particularly wet Sunday he was refereeing a minor club game.

He was dressed in his Sunday suit and as the rain got heavier he decided to ref the rest of the game from the stand. God bless his eyesight. Just as well Fr Gardiner wasn't around then.

During the first half of another minor game he sent off a player. Soon after, an irate official (the local priest, apparently) informed him that the player he had just sent off was supposed to be playing in the minor All-Ireland final the next Sunday. Sweeper immediately called the young man and asked him his name again. The puzzled young fella called out his name.

"You're back on," he said.

"But you just sent me off," the surprised player replied.

"Well I'm sending you on again now," said Sweeper.

Imagine the marks he would have got from the referees' committee.

Christy Ring and John Doyle figured in many stories. One tells of a time in Thurles when the two were seen rolling around the ground in full combat. Doyle was asked many years later if he remembered the incident.

"Of course I do," he said. "Didn't we do the manly thing and throw down the hurleys first."

Another Tipperary story involved the great Liam Devaney. The story goes that Devaney was refereeing a West Tipp football game. One of the crossbars was broken so it was replaced with a length of twine. On one occasion during the game the ball was driven at crossbar height over the goalie's head. It was a score but the umpires (probably one from each side, if indeed there were any at all) couldn't agree if it was a goal or a point.

After consulting the umpires, who weren't in agreement, Devaney called the opposing captains together. Of course the defending captain was adamant it was a point and the scoring team captain disagreed vehemently. After much discussion Devaney legislated: "Right since we can't agree we'll say it was two points."

Many wonderful stories did the rounds at Eugene Carey's golf classic in Mallow in July, with Eddie meeting and greeting and entertaining as only he can.

The season might be over but the stories live on.

PS: Thanks Rock for today's instalment. That Gingerbread Hakka joke was excellent.