After this unusual episode a large notice was put up over the turnstiles of all the county venues - DOGS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN.
Here's the story. A certain girl in the town called Sinéad was a zealous follower of the local team. She tried to be at every game. She was well got with the fellow at the left-hand turnstile and he used let her take her Scottish Terrier in, saying: "Look, keep him under your coat. Stay down by the sideline and keep him under control." She assured him that he was a well-trained, obedient dog.
She found that one of the advantages of sitting along the sideline was that she could watch Michael, the team manager, at close quarters as he strode up and down during games. He was a very handsome, personable find of fellow. He was unmarried. He projected a figure of both authority and warmth.
Sinéad found it difficult to take her eyes off him whenever he came near. On one occasion, during a break in play he turned around, saw her looking at him and gave her a smile and a nod. She responded with a wide pleasant grin. Afterwards she wondered if he had noticed the dog cuddled beside her.
Then, at the semi-final of the county championship, this bizarre event took place. The team was in a hard tough battle with their opponents. The score was level with ten minutes to go.
The neutral spectators were very pleased with the referee, a man famous for his rare use of the whistle. He insisted on letting play flow, rarely allowing any hold ups to disrupt tempo of the game.
Then things began to go wrong for the local side. The centre back and the centre forward, who had both played well, began to run out of steam. One of the corner backs was limping.
Changes had to be made. But with the game going hammer and tongs and the crowd roaring its head off the manager found it difficult. He shouted instructions above the din but it led to some confusion. Three or four players were not quite sure of their positions or who they were supposed to be marking.
The rival side sensed the disarray. They put in a great surge. They were taking control of the game and had almost scored a goal.
It was at this crucial juncture that Sinéad took the initiative. There was a dispute over a sideline ball right in front of her. The referee raced over, quickly decided what way it was going and waved play on. Sinéad pointed him out to her little dog. When he ref ran back out into the centre of the field she urged the dog to chase after him.
The little white Scottish Terrier ran out onto the pitch and began to bark at the heels of the referee, running round him in rapid circles. He would never try to bite but he wouldn't go away. The ref had to stop play and then tried to catch the dog but it was too nimble. An overweight umpire tripped and fell in trying to grab the animal, raising some laughter in the crowd.
But there was also anger that a great game of hurling, thundering along at breakneck speed, could be brought to such an undignified halt by a dog. This anger was greatest among the players, mentors and followers of the rival team, fully aware that their momentum had been broken. It was