The Irish show how sport should be played

You can wallop the ball with the stick, kick it, or run around with it in your hand for a while, after which you must run around with it on the stick. Amputation of a limb is classified as a minor misdemeanour, but aside from that, pretty much any form of physical contact is seemingly allowed. What is not allowed is to pick the ball up from the ground with one's hand.

The goals in hurling are a combination of those found in football, ice hockey and rugby.

The football part is guarded by a goalkeeper who is in possession of a stick and some attitude. Should a goal be scored past him, it is worth three points. Alternatively, the ball can be woofed over the bar and between the sticks which are extensions of the goalposts for one point. Thus a degree of subtlety is mixed with that certain spirit which characterises the John Smith bitter television adverts.

If it sounds like I'm a bit condescending here, then nothing could be further from the truth.

There were 85,000 people packed into Dublin's Croagh Park stadium and the supporters of the two teams are not segregated because there is no need. That a game with such explosive characteristics can be watched in complete harmony is heartening.

Despite the size of the crowd, the members of which were paying around £35 per ticket, hurling is still an amateur sport. The money that pours into the game on such occasions as this is used to promote and subsidise the sport all the way from the grass roots to the top.

Before the kick-off, or stick-off, a brass band paraded round the pitch, older heroes of hurling were worshipped by the adoring fans, and a small terrier made a late bid for inclusion in the proceedings. With great optimism, the announcer made reference to a "gentle mist" of rain. It was like an occasion from a far-off time.

It would be nice to be able to report that there was fairy-tale ending, but the underdogs were eventually well beaten.

A chap called DJ was the star of the show, although the fellow called Quinn, who played having broken his hand into several pieces only a month earlier, deserved a nod for gallantry, and perhaps the award of the first annual Beckham Metatarsal trophy. The commentators on this Setanta broadcast were firm, fair and devoid of showboating instincts.

Rugby union was a bit like hurling in atmosphere a while ago. Football might have been like it 100 years ago. Now hurling waves the banner for the corinthian spirit. May it prosper.