31. Ham Sunday

© Robbie O'Connell 1977 Slievenamon Music (BMI)

In the 1960s, when I was growing up in Carrick-on-Suir, County Tipperary, I often heard references to something known as “Ham Sunday.” My curiosity was roused and I tried to find out what it was all about. It seemed odd that no one wanted to talk about it but I persevered and, little by little, gathered more information. It turned out to be an embarrassing incident in the fairly recent history of the town and several of the characters involved were still alive so lips remained sealed tight—although I found that, after a few drinks, some of the facts could be prised loose with a little coaxing.

On 7 August, 1932, the Gaelic Athletic Association (GAA) opened a new sports field, named the Maurice Davin Memorial Park in honour of a famous local athlete who had successfully represented Ireland in international weight throwing competition and co-founded the GAA. To mark this great occasion, a prestigious football match, the Munster Senior Football Final was scheduled to be played that day. Normally, a provincial final would be attended by thousands of people so the people of Carrick were full of great expectations for weeks ahead.

In those days, private transport in that rural area consisted mostly of a donkey and cart or one of the newfangled bicycles which had become all the rage for those who could afford it. Motor cars were still a rarity so special trains were laid on from around the country to transport the expected multitudes to Carrick.

The population of the town, at that time, was less than 5000 so they had to figure out how they were going to cope with the anticipated arrival of thousands of football fans. The pubs stocked up on beer and whiskey and several were spruced up with a fresh lick of paint. Preparations began weeks ahead and expectations were high that they could not only cope with the invasion but also profit from it. Restaurants were practically nonexistent so scores of local people volunteered to open their houses up as temporary restaurants for the day. Signs appeared all over saying “Ham Sandwiches On Sale Here.” It was said that there wasn’t a pig or a chicken safe for miles around.

When the big day arrived, the local brass band was waiting in the town park, near the station, to serenade the arrival of the first trainload of visitors. Flags were flying, kettles were boiling, the air was rich with the smell of freshly boiled ham. To their astonishment, when the first train screeched to a halt and the doors opened, only a handful of people stepped out. The same thing happened when the subsequent trains arrived. The excitement of the budding entrepreneurs quickly changed to despondency as they realised they had overloaded larders and hardly any customers. With heavy hearts they wandered home to figure out what they were going to do with all the surplus of food.

No one really knows why there was such a low turnout. Most likely, it was the unfamiliar new venue in a town that never held a big match before or simply a case of poor advertising, or both. In addition, Kerry was a long way off so maybe people considered it too far to travel. With heavy hearts, the locals trudged off to the match and had the added indignity of watching Kerry trounce Tipperary by 3 goals and 10 points to 1 goal and 4 points.

That night the pubs were filled with well fed local people drowning their sorrows and totting up their losses. The term “Ham Sunday,” soon became part of the local vocabulary and is still in use today. “Ah, another Ham Sunday,” can still be heard in and around Carrick when any event fails to meet expectations.

I recorded this, in 1982, on my first album, Close to the Bone on the Green Linnet label. The track used here is from the 1998 CD Robbie O’Connell, Humorous, Songs, Live on the Celtic Media label, recorded at the legendary Old Vienna Kaffeehaus, in Westborough, Massachusetts.

Lyrics:

HAM SUNDAY

© Robbie O’Connell 1977 Slievenamon Music (BMI)¹

It was back in the year of nineteen thirty-two
That a great event happened in Carrick-on-Suir
A big match was planned for the new Davin Park
And Kerry and Tipp were the teams to take part.
The news of this match it was carried all round
‘Twas thought droves of people would flock to the town
And the word it came down from the GAA club
There’d be thousands of people all looking for grub.

And everyone thought, here’s a chance to get rich
We could make a small fortune on an old ham sandwich
We could charge what we want and it wouldn’t be hard
There’ll be so many here they’re all bound to be starved.
So the butchers and bakers got busy straight off
To make sure everyone would have more than enough
And the valley was full not of reels and of jigs
But the smell of fresh bread and the squealing of pigs.

And when the great day, it at last came around
And an air of excitement pervaded the town
The brass band was out and they marched through the park
Just waiting for someone to signal the start.
There were lookouts and runners in great agitation
To warn when the first train pulled into the station
There were signs up all over proclaiming quite clear
The best ham sandwiches are on sale here.

Oh the streets were all full as the tension it rose
And the men were all out in their best Sunday clothes
With the children all waiting this great sight to see
While the women stayed home boiling kettles for tea
There was one poor man full of such anticipation
When he heard what he thought were the sounds of invasion
That he stumbled and fell down the stairs in a fright
But ‘twas only some farmer in parking his bike.

“Oh they’re coming, they’re coming,” someone cried, “They’re here!”
And the people got ready to raise a loud cheer
But no one understood and no one could explain
Why only two people stepped off of the train
So they waited around till the next train came in
And they couldn’t believe it was empty again
Then the most of them left and went off to a pub
To decide about what they would do with the grub

Well they argued all day till the match it was over
About what they ought to do with the leftovers
And they all were agreed, ‘twas a wicked disgrace
Every dog in the town had a smile on his face
There were hams in the pantries and hams on the shelves
‘Twas said that some people made pigs of themselves
There was still loads of ham when a week had gone by
But not even a dog could look one in the eye.

And now to conclude and to finish this song
For I’m sure I’ve already been singing too long
Every song has a moral of that there’s no doubt
And this one’s no exception as I’m sure you’ll find out
So remember Ham Sunday, it could be your salvation
Make sure you’re not caught in the same situation
For it’s all very well being prepared that I’ll own
But you’re better off cutting it close to the bone

1. PRODUCTION NOTES:
Robbie O’Connell: Vocal
Produced by: Jimmy Keane
Recorded by: Gerry Putnam
Recorded at: The Old Vienna Kaffehaus, Westboro, MA
Mixed and Mastered at: CedarHouse Sound and
Mastering, New London, NH
Cover Design: Paul O’Connell and Roxanne O’Connell