A story is told about Cecil B. De Mille, the celebrated director of biblical films, who one day was filming a major battle scene, involving thousands of extras, plus horses, chariots and all the other expensive paraphernalia of war. He was using three cameras to film the action, one located next to him, one atop a rig a couple of hundred yards away, and one placed on a hill about a half-mile in the distance. The spectacular battle raged for a full half hour, and when the dust settled, he asked the cameraman beside him how it went. “Too much dust. I wasn’t able to see anything at all”, came the reply. Getting out his megaphone, he put the same question to the cameraman on the rig. “I’m afraid the camera broke down I got nothing at all on film”, was the response this time. Beginning to get desperate, de Mille got out his walkie-talkie and contacted the cameraman on the distant hill. “Come in camera three”, says de Mille. Comes the reply: “Camera three here anytime you’re ready, Mr. de Mille”.

An Moltóir was reminded of this story by his own attempts to have the National Hurling League final between Cork and Kilkenny videotaped. An Moltóir happened to be in the Wee North on business on the weekend in question (contrary to a view apparently held in some quarters, An Moltóir does not spend all his time analysing match videos). He set out on the return journey early on Sunday afternoon, being driven by a Dub from Ballyfermot with not the slightest interest in hurling and concerned only with getting home as quickly as possible. This ruled out the (very unlikely) possibility of finding a pub north of the border with TG4 reception. In any case, if one wasn’t sure of one’s ground, it could be a very risky business in Derry or Tyrone going into a pub and asking them if they could get TG4 on the telly.

So there was nothing for it but to ring the wife and get her to tape the game. The first problem with this stratagem was that it turned out that Vodafone reception in west Ulster is very patchy indeed. After several unsuccessful attempts to get through, thankfully Vodafone reception was lost completely and some other service provider with much clearer reception magically kicked in. After making a mental note to bring this up at the next Vodafone AGM (like most Irish citizens, An Moltóir is the less-than- proud possessor of hundreds of useless Vodafone shares), contact was duly made with the wife, who had said she would be spending the Sunday afternoon working in the garden.

However, it turned out she was doing nothing of the sort. Instead, she was in her car, on her way to her sister’s, some thirty miles away. However, she said she would get the sister to tape the game and would bring the tape home. An Moltóir quickly calculated that by the time she got to the sister’s, the game would be well under way, so Plan B was put into effect. This involved getting the brother-in-law to do the needful. His wife answered An Moltóir’s call and said she would record the game right away. Shortly after An Moltóir got back to home base, he got a call from the wife to say that the sister had taped the match. However, An Moltóir (rather rashly, as it transpired) replied that, as the brother-in-law’s wife was already on the ball, there was no need for the wife to bring the tape home.

After a reviving cup of tea, An Moltóir called the brother-in-law’s to check that there would be somebody there when he called over for the tape. The brother-in-law’s wife sheepishly confessed that something had gone wrong and the videotape machine had stopped recording after only a few minutes of the game. An Moltóir immediately rang the wife to tell her to bring the tape made by her sister with her. But, to quote Ray Stevens from the song “The Streak”, “it was too late” the wife was already halfway back from the sister’s, and wasn’t offering to turn back (some people have no understanding of the needs of a hurling fanatic).

And that, dear reader, is the reason why An Moltóir is unable to bring you his usual blow-by-blow deconstruction of the league final. Instead, he has been forced to rely on the “meeja” accounts which, from experience, he has found he cannot rely on at all. One gathers that, despite a very exciting finish, it was some way removed from championship hurling. Even then, it appears that most of the Leeside youngsters thrown in by Bertie Murphy at the deep end failed to stay afloat. Of course, this has frequently been the initial experience of many a player who subsequently became stars of the game. But expect whichever of Bertie’s buachaillí are retained for the championship game against Waterford to be singled out for special physical and psychological treatment by the Déise hard men.

Meanwhile, Brian Cody appears to have mined a few more nuggets from the seemingly bottomless seam of talent down by the Nore. Of course, like the Cork lads, a couple of these may turn out to have shed their lustre when subjected to the white heat of championship battle. However, unlike Cork, the Cats do have a lot of experienced talent to fall back on, presuming they have all got over the injuries or other calls on their time which prevented them from taking a full part in the league campaign. It may be a bit premature, but An Moltóir is beginning to doubt that DJ will ever be seen in a Kilkenny jersey again. But if the likes of Charlie Carter, Dennis Byrne and Brian McEvoy can be got reasonably shipshape, Kilkenny look like much more realistic championship contenders than Cork, who are likely to be hamstrung by the lack of a centre half back and a midfield, and a surfeit of skillful but physically lightweight forwards.

Meanwhile, following the early skirmishes in Leinster and Ulster, the hurling championship gets under way in earnest next Sunday when Tipp and the Banner get stuck into each other in the Bog by the Lee. An Moltóir has already set the video himself. So, barring another catastrophe (such as an ESB strike or the house burning down), normal service should be resumed next week. Watch this space!