Le Cunt: Thomond Park, a field somewhere outside of Dublin.

L’evidence: Most of us may have assumed that the nadir of Ireland’s footballing history had been conclusively reached when we were being managed by a semi-literate mong spawned in Drogheda. It might be argued that this remains the case. However, last night’s 3-0 defeat to a bunch of cricket playing convicts most of whom should have been deeply confused by the mesmerising roundness of the object ball must re-open the lively ‘most humiliating moment in Irish footballing history’ debate. But the question remains, why? Why did our valiant British battlers fail to subdue the gormless Aussie assault?

And the answer is clear: Thomond fucking Park. Never has a footballing fixture been more away for an allegedly home team. Never has an away team been more at home. Thomond Park, which, considering its location, should really have been constructed as a Colloseum-esque amphitheatre in which the principle Limerick sport of stabbing the fuck out of people could have been rightly glorified, is instead the home of that most hideous of hybrids, rugby loving muck savages. 

More wrong than little people porn, the rugger bugger bogger combo has been soiling  our national consciousness for many a year now, and although the dedicated may have been able to bury their heads in the Lansdowne Road or somewhat sickeningly Croke Park sand, last night ended any hope of denial. Australia, the High Priests of the marriage between  bovine bumming and scrumming, bathed in the aura of this unholy alliance and easily subdued our doubtlessly nauseated heroes.

And at the risk of over-egging the le cunt evidence pudding I present this monstrosity, entitled ‘Welcome to the New Thomond Park’:

Le Verdict: Dubbed Thalidomide Park by the glitterati, a bastion of perversion, peopled by adherents of Dr Moreau and the sole reason for Ireland’s defeat to Australia, Thomond Park is truly stadium Le Cunt.

(2 votes, average: 10.00 out of 10)

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