Jan 18, 2005 The Hurley-Pool Game, Christchurch, N
11 Feb 2005

One full day in Christchurch and I already found the most important place in town, the Irish pub. Having scoped the place the night before I knew the Cork Hurling Team, who won the All-Ireland Hurling this year, would be in attendance tonight!
Excited that I could pitch my idea of bringing the fastest paced field amateur sport to Texas, I showed up promptly at 10pm just as the Irish were starting to drink. To my delight many of them were huddled around the pool table attempting to knock a few in & win some bucks from their mates. I scrounged for a $2 coin & put it on the table. A few beers later I heard my cue to rack. A confident slightly ego-inflated hurler approached and asked "So, how much you got?"
"Excuse me?" I replied.
"How much are we betting for?"
I haven't used this line a thousand times "Sorry, I don't have much money."
"OK, if I win you can just buy me a beer."
"Fare enough. What do I get if I win?"
"What would you like?" he asked.
"Hmm, I'd like your hurley stick."
Shocked that I even KNEW what a hurley stick was he thought about it for a few seconds and then said "My hurley? umm, OK deal. Do you have a partner?"
Oops, forgot about that. I grabbed a volunteer and we racked.
After a few shots it was clear to me that my partner may not have been playing on my side. I decided to cut my losses and continue solo. Even though I wasn't playing up to my prime the Irish guys were getting nervous. On my final shot on the 8 ball they convinced me that in New Zealand the bar rules state that once you choose a pocket for the 8 ball you must stay with that pocket until the ball is sunk. There plan backfired though. If I couldn't play a shot I made sure they couldn't either. A tiring 10 or 12 shots on the 8 ball each and it went in.

Devastated that they "lost to a girl" AND lost the hurley, I quietly chuckled while drinking my beer. At this point the second player was scheming to get their pride (and the hurley) back. He approached me with an offer I couldn't refuse.
"Right, Double or nothing and I'll put up my hurley jersey."
My eyes lit up. I could take home an official jersey and a hurley arriving in my mailbox. The idea made me jump for joy inside. Of course, I was lucky enough to win once, but twice was unheard of. I had nothing to lose.
The second game went pretty much the same as the first, no one really ahead... Pretty evenly matched. After another short struggle on the 8 ball, game was over. I tried to conceal my joy so as not to depress them further but I couldn't help myself. I had just won an official racid stinky-not-washed-since-the-last-game, soon-to-be autographed Cork city goalie's hurley jersey, with hurley stick. We posed for pictures. I was bribed to keep this news from their mates. Beaming blissfully with Joy. I love the Irish, but they don't know when to stop.