When I was a teenager, one of the best things that could happen to me was that games would be rained off.
It wasn't so much that I didn't like sport then (although I wasn't really crazy about sport then), it was more that it meant that something you were supposed to be doing, you didn't have to do. I would never have had the guts to bunk off at school, and this was the closest I got to unanticipated freedom, and I loved it, even if it meant sitting in a classroom and doing your homework. I guess the adult equivalent is having a meeting unexpectedly postponed -- that's always a good day.
Anyway, I thought this particular upside of rainy weather had ended when I left school. But now, with a 6 year old getting into the Gaelic games of football and hurling, and me having to take turns watching -- and even, God help the future of Cork GAA, helping out -- that particular hope is back again.
