A man who delivered contentment

Thu, Aug 22, 2019

The power to bring contentment to so many people is a gift bestowed on but a few. Most of us live lives where even our most heartfelt endeavours reach out to but a few. However in that, they are no less valuable than those who effect so many.

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Marketing Ireland’s Global Economy

Thu, Aug 22, 2019

Gambling Site Challenges

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Fantasy Football round three preview

Thu, Aug 22, 2019

Week two of the Premier League is over and it seems the big boys might not have it all their own way this season.

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Bedrooms remain a shrine to the lost children

Thu, Aug 15, 2019

It’s the empty beds that will hurt the most.

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Bring concept of sanctuary into all we do

Thu, Aug 08, 2019

Now that the main festivals in Galway are over, and we thrust the booster rockets into the autumn and the project beyond of Galway 2020, it is time to think about how we define Galway, in more than just terms of culture, of sport.

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Fantasy Football round one preview

Thu, Aug 08, 2019

It is back baby. The Premier League is returning after a three month break and here at Advertiser Towers we are super excited as the big kickoff this Friday night signifies the return of the Advertiser Tribal League in association with Monroe's Live - The perfect place to watch all this seasons games.

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Who will be top dog in the the Advertiser Tribal League?

Tue, Aug 06, 2019

It's back, baby. There will be plenty of cheers and groans as Premier League football returns to brighten up our lives this weekend.

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Gonna take my horse out the old Tuam Road….

Thu, Aug 01, 2019

“Am gonna take my horse out the old Tuam Road…am gonna ride 'til’ I can’t no more.” Song is ringing in me head...written for me that was, written for me...where am I...oh, I’m here so I am, like. I’ve landed. In Galway... Like that Boris Johnson lad, head on me like an explosion in a bloody mattress factory. The clobber on me right out of Peaky Blinders, the kinda clothes me fadder's fodder would have worn like 150 year ago…Sun rises in the capital of culture…ate a clock in the morning…waking up in a crumpled hape…I’d need Hawkeye to see if I made it home at all last night…smartphone alarm beep beeps into me ear...one hand picks up and smashes it again the wall...not so smart now is it…Radio bursts on…Leo and Boris having a row over a catflap or a back flap or something...have I fallen asleep like and woken up in some posh boy's dream...I listen to him and his Tory mates and say in me own mind he shouldn't be fecking with the country that make the world's supply of Viagra and Botox... mess with us boy and there'll be no hard Brexit for ye but plenty of soft landing...the Brits will be pushing a car with a rope...’tis Race Week…where am I...recessed lights in ceiling shine into me eyes...discover me pyjamas have a hood in them and me in skinny jeans…fell asleep in the clothes again...where am I...not Mrs O'Brien's B & bloody B this year… an AiryB&B yolk which is basically paying hotel prices for someone else’s scratcher and someone else’s jacks…decided to mess them about by moving the pictures around and putting all the clocks back two hours...they've another little toilet beside the regular wan, like a bath for your feet so I soak the socks in there all night...need the cure bad...have to look me best...Limerick lads are winning Love Island so pressure's on...went to bed looking like Donal Og Cusack woke up looking like Dunphy...open shirt buttons and spray deodorant under arms one squirt for each oxter and one for the road with a shot for the lads below…ya can never take any chances like at the Galway Races…could be hit by a bus or a quare wan...head for the lift…close buttons, push buttons, and fella in the lift mirror does the same…state of me like…airyB&B and a kitchen with nobody’s food left in it…head for the morning cafe…hipster fella with a beard asks me do I want brunch like. I do in me...whole night I've been starving...says he can do me advocate toast or something strange sounding like that...throw back the lugs and dive in...twas muck...like eating a squashed apple through a sock...try to walk sober like, wan foot then the udder, repeat...I'm Racingman, I'm wide out…I’m part of Galway. I’m Racingman, the boyoh, unleashed for the week…I walk down the street like Travolta in Saturday Night Fever 'cept without the can o’ paint…baby shakin that ass... they're looking at me, the wimmen, can't get enough of me...nawthing like a pair of skinny jeans (no ballroom dancing for me) and a mismatched jacket and tweed jacket and braces and cap to get them going...down the square check out paddys ladbrokes boyles get the odds... and ends...too early to go out to Ballybrit yet...sit on bench and look at the pretend fountain that's never on…Arts Festival hippies taking down their own festival garden for atin’ hummus and talking through their…are sure it's great for them…sit on steps, legs sprawled……wink at young wan heading to work down town, get scowl but scowl back at her…then I remember MeTwo or what ya call it, so I stall the ogling’…cramps me style though bigtime...Me the man, Racingman...me the man…loads o’ young lads around…Anthony Ryan mustn’t have a confirmation suit left in his storeroom…Reach into arse pocket of me jeans……hand shakes but 'twould by now anyways Wednesday... some forren fecker with a guitar murdering Grace in the Square...where's Lee Harvey Oswald when ya need him…I…get the Racing Post...to look cool like…in the know…and the Star...I stink a bit bad, so dash into Debbinghams cosmetics section and when the posh wimmen staff aren't looking over, Racingman is lost in a spraycloud of Calvin Kyne, Packie Rabanne, and Ralph Lawrence eau de sweat…lash on the lot of them…the cognac combo….then a splash on ur hand to look like ya know your stuff…spray some on that little card yolk… doubles up as a toothpick…smelling grand...looking good, give the crown jewels a scratch…let me get wan thing straight and all that…ready for the road...ready for the course...hop into taxi...sit in front…legs sprawled…I’m the man…talk the talk…big happy head on me…air stinks of air freshener and stale conversation...Then he said something about a rising tide lifting boats…knows his stuff this fella…crabbing on about immigrants taking our wimmen, can't get jobs…and he's from Lagos...three ways to racecourse...green, blue, and red routes…an hour later we take a bit of blue and red and he drops me in a cowshit-spattered field near Castlegar church...walk that way he says... the brown route...and I walk...go to ring the boys but smartphone still smarting from batin' I gave it… walk straight...shoes covered in sheeeite...in the gate...Text the lads but they get back on WhatsUpp app thingy…haven’t used that since the time I WhatsUpped Mixer the story about Murphy’s father knocking up the nurse up the village and didn’t know I was telling’ the whole hurling club like…They’re at the bar they tell me...Get myself a selfie with the new horse statue...made by Brendan Behan they tell me...that fella must be 150 himself...Guard nods at me I nod back 'howya guard' what does he know... probably has a file on Racingman...Maybe a whistleblower will get it for me…the big happy Templemore head on him and eyes red-out from reading Pulse all night…lads say to tease them about the missing breath tests but I told them I will in me ....whole day looking around to see famous faces...no sign of Leo today…he was here Monday with a wallet with him. Feckin’ Taoiseach with a wallet…and maybe even a bank account…twouldn’t be like that in the Bertie day…Rakes of Galway hurlers and footballers around...saw them around the parade ring throwing shapes, ya wouldn't see the feckers up in Croke Park where ya'd want to see them this time of year...shouted up Mayo at them...Bumped into the Comer Brothers, was going to ask them for a touch after they threw twenty million into Galway United...never know which of them Comers is which so just chanced me arm and said 'howya Damien,' and they looked at me as if I was some sort of a feckin eejit...stumbled on...fine fillies everywhere...Saw the Lads, roared c’mon ye bollix at them, the boys from home…saw Ted Walsh too…twenty years since he rode her mother... Lads have quare wans' mobile numbers… they want 200 notes for an hour of the bould thing...lads laugh when I ask for group discount and take out me social services card….an hour I laugh, an hour of drinking time wasted...she says for 400 she'll bate me with a whip ’til I cry and give me a happy ending…told her I can get a batin' for nawthing outside the chipper…and if I want a happy ending, I can watch Frozen…and the lads laugh…Am great for the auld repartee, me Racingman. Me head's in a spin...hops into taxi and shows the driver lad the place where the AiryB&B is…It’s Lagos man again...more stale conversation...he's up from Carlow with all the other taxidrivers…takes me to Newcastle via Athenry…he knows a shortcut. Tells me he loves…drives me around town nine times to make sure before I push in door of AiryB&B and I crash on the couch but then there’s a thump and some fella shouting about getting out of his house and then I sees that I do be in the wrong Airy B&B.…but I love it. I love Race Week...and today's Ladies' Day. So I better have a bath...it's August.

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The perpetual pursuit of soundness

Thu, Jul 25, 2019

They always say that the coolest person in the hospital is the ultrasound guy. And on the days that he’s not around, the next best is the hip replacement guy.

Being sound is one of the nicest tributes someone can pay you. In Ireland, we probably have only two types of people. There’s the person who’s sound....and the fella who’s ‘only a bollicks’. People go through life striving to have the former compliment, only for their efforts at making people like them,  make them more likely to receive the latter moniker.

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Ó Cuív slams delay in providing full orthopaedic services in Merlin Park

Thu, Jul 25, 2019

Fianna Fáil TD for Galway West, Éamon Ó Cuív, has slammed the HSE and the Minister for Health for the inordinate delay in providing full orthopaedic services in Merlin Park, Co. Galway where two operating theatres have been out of action.

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Connacht Rugby has a chance to win silverware this year

Thu, Jul 25, 2019

Connacht Rugby has been given a reasonable chance of seizing silverware in the Pro14 next season after bookmakers released odds for the 2019/20 campaign. Defending champions Leinster are understandably the favourites to win the trophy, but only four teams have shorter odds than Andy Friend’s men. Munster, Glasgow and Ulster are all tipped to challenge for glory, but Connacht are next in line at 20/1 along with Scarlets and Ospreys.

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Let’s not forget the architects of creative Galway

Thu, Jul 11, 2019

I have a secret fetish for architecture (just not so secret any more). I have been known to fondle bridges; to lose my breath over mindblowing overhangs; to stare at the steel ceilings of stadiums rather than the pitch and wonder just what allows 50,000 people to hop up and down without it all collapsing.

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A tussle to end someone’s summer

Thu, Jul 04, 2019

In tribal sport, it matters to matter. There is nothing worse than not mattering, being seen as harmless; being seen as not capable of inflicting any damage on anyone but yourself. It is good to be part of the banter, to be able to slag your rivals, to joke about your own shortcomings, to participate in partisan oneupsmanship.

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Time to slow down time

Thu, Jun 27, 2019

This year I’ve noticed more than ever the impact of the short summer nights, the long summer days, that brightness that nudges you awake at 5am and says, “look at me. See the beauty of the world that you are missing out on by sleeping.” This year more than ever, the weeks and months have flown by; the landmarks by which we stake out the year come and go like town-name signs on a roadway at night, and fly by.

It has been a weird year. I have always valued time, and I suppose like anything you value, you have to be careful lest you allow others to take it from you. This year, it feels like someone has snuck up in the night, checked to see if I was asleep and stolen away a few hours of time, pushed the clock a few hours forward, saying ‘ arragh sure he’ll never miss it.”

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THE 10th GALWAY GARDEN FESTIVAL WITH FOOD, CRAFT, MUSIC, STREET THEATRE AND A MEDIEVAL TOURNAMENT AT CLAREGALWAY CASTLE ON JULY 6-7TH

Mon, Jun 24, 2019

The 2019 Galway Garden Festival will take place on Saturday 6th and Sunday 7th of July, at Claregalway Castle. This will be the 10th year of this multi-faceted jewel in the Irish Gardening calendar. It will not only showcase the very best of rare and special plant traders from all over Ireland but also includes a wonderful programme of expert talks, the usual superb artisan Food and Craft arena and a host of musical entertainment and open-air performance.

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All that is being left behind

Thu, Jun 20, 2019

I’m a news junkie. I would sit in the snow to hear a good yarn. As a kid, I used to place the big valve Pye radio beside my bed, wait until it warmed up and tune into Short Wave stations from across the world.

I’d scroll the dial from Hilversum to Albania to Radio Moscow to Luxembourg to the Voice of America. I would listen through the crackle at these voices coming at me from across the world, with their agendas and their accents. It is a fascination that has stuck with me, and I use every evolving technology to still allow myself this guilty pleasure. even if this means that we sign away a part of ourselves so that we are vulnerable to the latest news and influences.

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The best karting tracks in the country

Fri, Jun 14, 2019

From go-karting to paintball campaigns courses, Pallas Karting Centre has everything to challenge the ultimate competitor of the family. Perfect for school outings, work parties, or stag and hen dos, a great day out is guaranteed for everyone at Pallas Karting.

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Many’s a slip twixt the cup and the lip

Thu, Jun 06, 2019

During the local elections, I spoke to the partner of a politician, offering congratulations on the success and opining that at least now, everything would get back to normal in the political household; that the grass would be cut once again, the flowerbeds weeded, the hinges fixed on the ratchety door, and the kids getting to know the one parent who had been missing for three months or so.

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And so the people have spoken...

Thu, May 30, 2019

Elections and election counts are like horror films or high-rides in a funfair. From a distance, they all seem like they might be good craic, but when you get into them, you kind of regret you ever did.

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