Dancer Athlete Health Care

Every athlete has a goal, whether it is to improve over a reasonable amount of time or to long for the ever popular “being first”.  In order to strive towards that goal, the athlete must be healthy enough to reach it.  For athletes to be healthy they must eat food that provides them with enough energy and nutrients to get through their workouts and they must do everything possible to prevent injuries and also know how to care for any injuries that may occur.
The best way to guarantee a good energy level for dancing is by eating an overall balanced diet. A balanced diet consists of a variety of foods and drinks from the basic food groups. Milk, cheese, chicken, lean meats, and such foods provide protein to help build muscle. Foods such as pasta, bread and potatoes supply carbohydrates that are used for energy.
When using this energy, it is very important to keep focus on preventing injury. The foot is the most important part of the body for an Irish Dancer. The most common injuries to the Irish dancer occur to the foot and ankle. Most injuries occur to the ligaments (which connect bones together), tendons (which connect muscles together), and the muscles themselves. An injury to a ligament is called a sprain and an injury to a muscle is known as a strain. Injuries are caused when abnormal stress is placed on tendons, joints, bones, or muscles. Now that we know the injuries that may happen sometime during your dancing career, I can give you some important information on how to prevent these injuries.
Basic foot care is the first step. Always trim your toenails using a clipper or nail scissor. Trim them straight across and then file them smooth. Never trim them on a curve for this increases the possibility of an ingrown toenail. Do not “pop” or crack your toe knuckles. This has been said to dry out the joints and may open you up to arthritis later in life. Massage your toes before and after dancing to relieve tension using an oil or lotion, paying close attention to the joints. If you feel discomfort in the heel area when you walk, use a heel pad made especially for the heel of a shoe. This will relieve pressure when you dance.
Injury prevention starts before the sport or activity starts and continues after the sport ends. Always warm up for 10-15 minutes before dancing. During a competition where there are long periods of time between dances, muscles cool, so you should stretch before heading back onto the stage. If you plan to increase practice time or begin dancing again after taking time off, you should do so gradually in order to prevent stress related injuries. You should always wear the proper shoes. Shoes that do not fit correctly can put stress on the feet and shoes that are worn out may not absorb enough shock, therefore stressing the feet and risking injury. If you begin to feel pain, you should take steps to eliminate the problem before it gets worse. This includes reducing activity, more stretching, icing or gently massaging the problem area, or wearing compression wraps like an ACE bandage.

In the case of an injury like a strain or sprain, ice should be applied to an injury within fifteen minutes of its occurrence. Ice should be used for ten to thirty minutes at a time, with breaks of thirty to forty-five minutes in between sessions. An ACE bandage or supportive brace should be worn. You should stay off of it as much as possible and the foot should be elevated. Once the injury has begun to heal, you should try to slowly work the entire range of motion of the area and gently stretch the injured area being careful not to force a stretch. If you feel pain, either relax the stretch to a point where it does not hurt or take a break and try again later.
In conclusion, it is great to have goals, it is even better to achieve them, but don’t forget to take care of yourself. Another goal should be to prevent injury. Remember to eat well, drink enough water, warm up, cool down and don’t ignore even the minor discomforts that come with being an athlete. If injury occurs, remember RICE – Rest, Ice, Compression and Elevation.

By Lindsay Woodcock

William T. McGonagall

William T. McGonagall was born in Edinburgh in 1825. This Scotsman of Irish descent led a rather routine existence as a mill worker until 1877 – the year of his epiphany, when he experienced “the most startling incident in [his] life” and “discovered [himself] to be a poet.”
Rev. George Gilfillan was the recipient of McGonagall’s debut, “An Address to the Reverend.” Having read the offering, the holy man reportedly said, “Shakespeare never wrote anything like this.”
This quip proved rather accurate commentary, for McGonagall would attain distinction due to a consistently vivid display of distorted rhythm, inept word choice, butchered syntax, and appalling levels of effusion.
About two-hundred McGonagall compositions are on record; the most enduring is “The Tay Bridge Disaster,” a poem commemorating the collapse of the Tay Rail Bridge, in which ninety train passengers perished:

Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.

There was a German poet, Theodor Fontane, who tried to piggyback on the Scottish catastrophe. But no amount of noble sentiment could ever contend with McGonagall’s couplet:

And the cry rang out all round the town,
Good heavens! The Tay Bridge has blown down.

Years later, many readers daunted by ultra-sophisticated modernist verse would find something refreshing in McGonagall’s clumsy directness. The poet also had perseverance and, when the fallen bridge was fully replaced, he was right alongside the construction crew to memorialize the event. “An Address to the New Tay Bridge” sings praises of a structure:

strong enough all
windy storms to defy.

So many poets have dissipated their talent with liquor. As for McGonagall, he not only abstained from such poisons, but even launched one-man campaigns to curb drinking. He would enter area pubs to recite anti-alcohol poems and speeches to all misguided inebriates.
Though his impassioned rhetoric did nothing to divert one drop of booze, the patrons were said to have much enjoyed the performances. However, such enjoyment did not necessarily imply admiration, for McGonagall was frequently pelted with “eggs and vegetables.”
McGonagall’s artistry transcended the constraints of the written word. He often acted at the local Giles Theatre, where he would pay the proprietor for the honor of performing the eponymous role in Macbeth. When the scene arrived for his character’s murder, McGonagall, who had paid good money for his spotlight, would simply “refuse to die.” This absurd refusal was an ongoing crowd favorite.
In 1892, McGonagall’s ambition took him to new terrain, as he trekked sixty miles through a virulent storm to see Queen Victoria; legendary bard Alfred Lord Tennyson had just died, and McGonagall desired to personally ask Her Majesty for the distinction of Poet Laureate.
Though this effort proved unsuccessful, fortune came two years later when representatives of Burmese king Thibaw Min bestowed a “White Elephant” knighthood upon the poet. Sir McGonagall boasted of his privileged status until his passing in 1902. Dying penniless, he was sent to an unmarked grave.

By Ray Cavanaugh

John Henry Abbott

In 1944, Jack Henry Abbott entered this world on a U.S. Army base in Michigan. He was the result of a five-dollar exchange between an Irish-American G.I. and one Chinese prostitute. It was a rather unglamorous debut for young Abbott, whose hardships were only beginning. Surrendered right after birth, he was shuffled through various foster care venues. By age ten, he was spending time in detention facilities.
While incarcerated for a forgery conviction, twenty-one-year-old Abbott mortally stabbed his opponent in a brawl. Several years later, the sly inmate escaped and proceeded to embark on a bank-robbing spree. Soon overtaken by federal authorities, Abbott was hauled back to prison, where the belligerent soul was a frequent guest of solitary confinement.
Impulsive criminal though he was, Abbott also became a voracious reader and took up writing. Then came 1980; Norman Mailer was the ubiquitous figure of American letters, riding the glory of his Pulitzer-winning ‘Executioner’s Song, which profiled a convicted killer who demanded execution instead of a life-sentence.
Having somehow procured Mailer’s contact info, Abbott began sending letters to the famous writer, telling him that the ‘Executioner’s real-life protagonist was largely a poseur and that he, Abbott, could supply a more realistic account of life behind bars. Mailer was so enticed that he told the inmate to write a full-length manuscript.
The result was ‘Belly of the Beast, in which Abbott addresses topics ranging from foreign relations, to spiritual inquiry, to the cultivation of marijuana. As one would expect, he also speaks of life in a maximum-security prison – the transactions, tensions, hierarchies, grim triumphs and appalling degradations, as well as the literal and figurative opiates by which many inmates pursue an illusory escape.
Though many disagreed with Abbott’s arguments, the general opinion of his lyrical intensity ranged from stellar to riveting. Such feedback fueled Mailer’s decision to lobby for the convict’s parole, telling reporters that “culture is worth a little risk.”
Parole was granted, much to the dismay of several prison officials. Six weeks later, Abbott wanted to use the bathroom at a Manhattan café. A twenty-two-year-old waiter told him the bathroom was only for staff use. So Abbott grabbed a steak knife and sunk it into the young man’s chest. The attack was fatal.
During his brief freedom, Abbott had been the glamorous bad-boy of New York literati. It is quite possible that the café waiter was the first person to tell him no. Following a manhunt, Abbott and his terminal fury were returned to prison.
Backlash came immediately, branding Abbott as the worst sort of psychopath, one who fills his remorseless void with self-pity and indignation. The prostitute’s son had really made quite a stir, though he profited not one dime from his book, having been sued by his victim’s kin for a sum exceeding one-million times that of the 1943 transaction through which he had been conceived.
In 2001, Abbott was denied parole. The following year, having confronted the fact that he would most likely die in prison, he chose to expedite the process. His limp body was later found hanging from his own shoelace.
As sociologist Francis Glamser wrote: “Dying in prison is the ultimate confirmation of a wasted life.” One could assume Abbott realized as much, before his great escape at the end of the knotted lace. The convict’s final literary endeavor was his suicide note. Its content remains undisclosed.
Mailer continued to face widespread outrage from those who blamed him for having enabled Abbott’s slaughter of a young man. Before his death in 2007, Mailer remarked on the issue as, “another event in my life in which I can find nothing to cheer about.”
As for Abbott, he had always been close-lipped on the subject of regret. He did, however, write another book, in which he somehow blamed society for his return to prison…
…When Norman Mailer said “culture is worth a little risk,” this was probably not what he had envisioned.

By Ray Cavanaugh

Samuel Beckett

Samuel Beckett was born in 1906 and grew up in the rather opulent Dublin suburb of Foxrock. Among other blossoming gifts, he displayed musical and athletic talent as a youth. Beginning in 1923, he attended Dublin’s Trinity College, from where he graduated four years later.
Following a few teaching stints in Belfast and Paris, he came back to his alma mater as a lecturer. However, the young man became disenchanted by an academic milieu he viewed as oppressively pedantic. He got in one final laugh by playing an elaborate joke on Dublin’s Modern Language Society, to which he presented a well-received article on a literary movement, “Concentrism,” that never in fact existed.
The scholarly prankster resigned soon after delivering this highbrow hoax. Having forsaken academia, he toured Europe and penned a novel, which was dismissed by numerous publishers and would not see print until four years after its writer’s death.
In spite of his inauspicious full-length debut, Beckett eventually saw success. His second novel soon found publication, along with a number of essays, reviews, even some verses. And the triumphs did not stop there. He also seduced art collector Peggy Guggenheim and, months later, survived multiple chest wounds when stabbed by an infamous pimp while strolling along a Paris street.
Vicious and unwarranted as the attack was, Beckett displayed a certain nobility of spirit by opting to drop charges against his assailant. Instead of seeking reprisal, the man of letters called attention to what he perceived as the contrite Parisian pimp’s “likeable personality” and “good manners.”
Although it was the setting for his near-fatal assault, Beckett developed quite an affection for Paris as well as for the rest of the country, which he aided by joining the French Resistance during WWII German occupation. Beckett was given the revered “Croix de Guerre” for his wartime efforts, which he would later downplay as “boy scout stuff.”
In the 1950s, Beckett’s writing drew increasing acclaim and began to influence much of contemporary drama. He found out that he won the Nobel Prize while on vacation in 1969. His wife, Suzanne, reacted to the news by calling it a “catastrophe.” She feared that her sulking, introverted husband would be averse to such enormous publicity. Furthermore, Beckett was none too keen on the award, which in his view was often granted more for “political reasons” than for literary merit.
Beckett’s best-known work is Waiting for Godot – a masterful and enthralling play in which, paradoxically, nothing occurs – two men wait for a visitor who never comes. Though much of his writing seems steeped in pessimism, many see Beckett as celebrating a certain heroic, inspiring quality in the human condition – a desire to persevere, no matter how bereft of meaning life may seem. There is also a potent dose of sardonic humor in both his work and personality.
In 1984, Beckett was chosen “Saoi of Aosdana” – an artistic distinction that only five living Celts are allowed and which, next to sainthood, is perhaps the most coveted honor bestowed upon an Irishman.
Beckett died of emphysema at a nursing home in 1989, several months after writing a poem called “What is the Word?” He is buried with his wife at Montparnasse cemetery in Paris. Though France has his bones, Ireland holds his legacy.
April 2006 marked the centennial of Beckett’s birth. Across the world, there were numerous exhibits, film screenings, and commemorations to celebrate the life and work of this writer who “looked at the face of the Medusa but did not turn to stone.”

By Ray Cavanaugh

Irish Society Thrive In Latin America

Estancia Santa Susana Ranch. Los Cardales, Argentina

Irish emigrants have notably contributed to the development of the countries in which they settled. Through work and social integration, they have brought respect to themselves and enhanced the reputation of their homeland in almost every corner of the globe.

So it should come as no surprise that Argentina is populated with Irish descendants. In the late 19th century, estimates of 40- 50,000 Irish immigrants were in Argentina. Most of them settled in the Argentine pampas and worked primarily as shepherds and sheep-farmers.
Today in Latin America some 300,000 to 500,000 are estimated to have some Irish ancestry, most of them living in Argentina, with lesser numbers in Central America, Uruguay and Brazil. There are estimates upwards of 300,000 Argentineans who claim Irish ancestry. In a country with a population of 35 million that is, almost three per cent of the entire population.
But let’s consider the logistics and formidable obstacles of immigrating to Argentina. First was the problem to cross the Atlantic from their areas of residence in the Irish Midlands, Wexford, Clare and a few other counties in Ireland.  The emigrants would have to use a combination of coaches and carts or the Grand Canal boats to reach Dublin. From there they would have to book passage aboard a sailing ship.
Sailing ships were used up to the early 1850s and steamboats thereafter, with an average journey of six to eight weeks. Some chartered ships sailed directly from Dublin to South America, though the majority purchased passage tickets through established companies with scheduled departures from Liverpool. Tickets cost was significantly higher than the one to North America.  The cost was an annual wage of an Irish laborer, which is a reason few were able to pay their way. In fact tickets were advanced by Argentinean employers in return for work.
Crossing the Atlantic Ocean would pale in comparison to the linguistic barrier. Only a few educated Argentines spoke English and the Spanish language was almost completely unknown in Ireland.
For the newly arrived Irish immigrants the Catholic religion was an opportunity to easily adapt to the larger society. While Admiral William Brown is well known of the Irish emigrants to Argentina other Irish men and women were also extremely influential in Argentine society. Fr. Anthony Fahy (1805-1871) worked successfully to isolate his flock and to maintain their identity as English-speaking Catholics, distinct from the native parishioners. It should be noted that many Protestant Irish settlers preferred to join the Presbyterian congregation and thus followed their pastors.
There is a proud and active Irish community in Argentina, writes Dick and Lois Miner fresh back from a visit there. They were greeted and entertained at the Estancia Santa Susana, a ranch run by the descendants of Francisco Kelly. The ranch name is homage to his wife, Susana Caffrey. The working ranch occupies 1200 acres and is mainly dedicated to agricultural activities and the raising of horses.

Estancia Santa Susana occupies 2965 acres in the district of Campana, Buenos Aires province near the town of Los Cardales. Visitors are welcomed to the ranch by “gauchos” and “paisanas” (countrymen and women.)
The distinctive seal of Estancia Santa Susana is a guided tour of the Spanish-colonial style compound. After touring the museums (picture bottom left) a bell tolls announcing the day’s meal at banquet facilities (Picture center left.) Grills prepare different cuts of Argentine meat and may be observed, while roasting over a wood fire.

Irish Diaspora in South America

‘Diaspora’ (from the Greek word ‘to scatter’) is defined as any group migration or flight from a country or region that has been dispersed outside its traditional homeland. The phrase is more widely used to describe Irish emigrants and their descendants around the world.
The dark side to this story is most he time the Diaspora is forced as with the Irish in the 17th century, when Oliver Cromwell sent many Irish rebels into slavery in Caribbean tobacco plantations. Many of the Wild Geese who had gone to Spain continued on to its colonies in South America. In the 1820’s they helped liberate the continent.
According to scholars the term ‘Irish Diaspora’ first appears in a 1954 book ‘The Vanishing Irish.’ It wasn’t until a more recent address by President Mary Robinson, in her 1995 address to the Joint Houses of the Oireachtas. Reaching out to the 70 million people worldwide that claim Irish descent she said “The men and women of our Diaspora represent not simply a series of departures and losses. They remain, even while absent, a precious reflection of our own growth and change, a precious reminder of the many strands of identity which compose our story.”