Yesterday, my mind and body were gently recovering from our football tournament in Munich. As is my wont in these situations, creativity struck. I remembered a conversation in the Hofbrauhaus, when one of the boys quoted the first line of Wordsworth’s Daffodils, in a reference to his hungover condition.
With that rhyming pattern in my head, I wrote An ode to München (also found on the Belgium GAA webpage). I’d like you to enjoy this, but perhaps it would be more fitting to marvel and wonder what really is going on in my brain at any given moment.
(point of order: I’m not actually in this photo)
We wander purposefully as a team
That floats round Europe, balls in hand
Our boots dry, our jerseys clean
Into Munich we did land.
Farewell Belgium, we’re turning German
(my mind is blank, what rhymes with merman?)
Breaking free from the Benelux theme
Our bags were packed, we were on the way
It was time to live the European dream
With As and Bs, the tiger and the grey.
Old and new faces were our foes
Torrents of rain and ants our woes
Facing Vienna, Paris, Zurich and our hosts
Our Bs were divine, our As were supreme,
It would not be fair to boast
But even the sun admired the scene
Grainne swooped and Margaux soared
Our men on the sideline drank beer and roared
With a happy mind and aching muscles
I think of Munich and wish I’d stayed
Back at my desk in the office in Brussels
This is of what dreams are made.
Next up: September and the Swedes
Where Belgium will once more be Dancing Queens.