The GAA forms the backbone of many a community throughout Ireland, and up and down the country clubs are filled with local characters who show the best (and worst) that the country has to offer in terms of personalities.
Whether it be the questionable umpire who never gives a decision against his own team, or the lad who played county before developing a fondness of the beer, these stock characters will surely ring a few bells when it comes to your own club.
Usually seen leaving the club pavilion most evenings with a mysterious sack of cash.
He takes no shite because he's not involved with the various long-running parochial disputes within the area.
Played for the county for several years and is known as a club legend.
After a successful stint with the under 12s he's promoted to the senior job because he costs less and the club is skint after agreeing a severance package with the Outside Club Manager.
Won player of the year last year after being the direct cause of several one-point victories for the club.
The Dodgy Umpire wasn't much of a player back in the day, but he's there beside the post every Sunday raising the white flag for many a wide ball.
Despite not being able to kick snow off a rope during his playing career, The Grouch will always find something to complain about.
The club's after spending its thirtieth consecutive season in Junior, but The Optimist still believes the club has the talent to win the Senior Championship, and can't understand why six of the team aren't making the county panel.
Lean, fast and full of energy. The County Minor is not burdened by the years of failure within the club and is the great white hope for the future.
Until he finds the high stool, that is.
Fast forward 10 years and The County Minor now weighs the guts of 17 stone, having been led astray by a few loose cannons.
Still turns in the odd masterclass, but constant criticism from The Grouch has him fed up and he's leaving for Oz in a couple of weeks.
Born and bred on the farm, The Hallion is not one for fancy solo dummies or outside-of-the-boot passes, but if an opposition player comes through the middle of the pitch he'll be met by a firm shoulder charge.
'Tis his field.
Down the pub for a few pints? Popping in to grab some milk? Reading the newspaper on the toilet? Nowhere is safe from The Lotto Seller, and by hook or by crook, he will shame you into forking over a few quid to the club.
For a lotto that will never be won.
Not a fan of the rough and tumble favoured by The Hallion, The Cocky Corner Forward makes sure to have his best white socks available on the day to make sure he looks good when stroking over frees from 13 yards.
Pure dedication, The Captain is there 30 minutes before training starts, helping the manager to set up the drills, setting an example for his teammates.
Pure pride in the club bai.
This fella is likely to have married into the club from a different part of the county, and those around the parish are consistently suspicious of him.
"Sure what would he know, he used to play for (insert former club here)" is the standard comment about The Blow-In.
Not quite Posh and Becks, but the squad of wives and girlfriends congregate at the pitch every Sunday with the prams and club attire, willing their partners on so they can get one over on the other WAGs.
Pre-season is his favourite time of year. He can't wait till that rubbish of the championship is finished for the year, so he can work the machines in the gym and be ready for the first league game in March.
Likely to get a run on the senior squad before the manager realises he can't tell whether the ball is round or square.
Never shuts his mouth, always barking out instructions that don't make any sense.
Occasionally fancies himself as Maurice Fitzgerald when going for a run before being told to get back in the goals by the crowd.
God loves a Tryer, but the manager doesn't.
Hasn't missed a training session in years, but never gets a kick. "I'll not be back" says the Tryer every Sunday he spends on the bench, but lo and behold there he is every Tuesday night.
He may be the biggest and hardest kid on the minor team, but that won't stop The Protective Mother bursting onto the pitch to get a slap at the referee who didn't give him a free or the full-back who gave him a shove.
Do not mess with her.
Most likely the son of The Local Manager, there was big hope for The Daddy's Boy with his auld fella's reputation, but that was until they realised he was absolutely awful.
Plays every game though, and everyone knows why, despite claims from the father that he's worth his place.
The Yank barks commitment out at other guys throughout the year, and says he's there for the long haul.
One championship defeat in May and he's on the first plane to Boston "for work".
This Junior B legend always shows up on a Sunday morning filthy with last night's porter.
Somehow recovers to easily muster up 1-3 from play.
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