Eamonn, Journeyman Reviewer

‘Being Irish’ has feck all to do with passports, DNA, and ancestry dot com. It comes from living here, growing up here, integrating into our amazing culture. Being Irish is growing up with Zig and Zag, Dustin the Turkey, Ray D’Arcy and Dara Ó Briain, and the Late Late Toy Show. Being Irish is becoming a GAA fan the one month every generation your county gets to a Sam final, it’s the inevitable heartbreak of rugby World Cup quarter finals, and it’s going wild as we punch way above our weight at the Olympics. Being Irish is growing up with Ted, Dougal and Jack, knowing who keeps their toaster in the cupboard, and who’s got a horse outside. Being Irish is a spice bag after Copper’s, or a chicken fillet roll in the morning, or mammy’s dinner cooked at home. Being Irish is knowing that McGregor is the worst cunt on the planet (but that you can be a good cunt too). Being Irish is knowing you’re probably never going to own a house and the lure of the Australian working tourist visa, the realisation that all your childhood friends now live in Sydney or San Diego. Being Irish is knowing the fear of leaving the immersion on. Most importantly, being Irish is knowing you can go to any city in the world and find a pub filled with your people, because the world truly loves the Irish. Why? Because we’re fucking great craic - and that’s not something you can get from your genetics. ☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️