Sriracha Rebels V Guacamole Greens: A wild Munster hurling final night in Limerick

SATURDAY evening at TUS Gaelic Grounds delivered everything it promised - and then some.

Limerick versus Cork. Green versus red. Guacamole versus Sriracha. It’s a rivalry simmering for decades but by 6pm on Saturday it was bubbling furiously. 

The roots of this tension stretch long, but it was May 11 of last year, in Páirc Uí Chaoimh, when Limerick fans got their first proper taste of the new Cork fire. We were visitors in a hostile backyard and let’s just say, the Rebels weren’t laying out the tea and biscuits.

Then came Croke Park in July, the All-Ireland semi-final. Cork once again edged us, and we left with bruised pride and a growing hunger.

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Three weeks ago, that hunger turned to a feast. For Limerick. The Treaty men dismantled Cork with pure power and precision. Cork players and fans heading back to Leeside with not only their tails between their legs but looking like a Limerick fan had nicked their last Chicken Hut chip from the bag. 

So we knew Saturday wouldn’t be easy. It arrived in all its windswept glory. The Rebels were jammed into the Clare End, packed tight like ketchupped chips in a takeaway bag - red and salty. 

Down at the City End, the Limerick faithful stood more guacamole than sriracha, their bellies still full from the satisfaction of three weeks ago. But satisfaction is a fickle meal in hurling. Once the ball was thrown in, there was no comfort. Only chaos. 

When the final whistle blew on normal time, the two teams were back where they started - level. Too evenly matched for either terrace to erupt.

Extra time required. 

And even that delivered a moment as bizarre as it was unforgettable - referee Thomas Walsh sprawled on his back, while midfielder Adam English, moonlighting as a physio, stood over him, doing his best to ease a cramp from his leg. You couldn’t write it. 

And then - penalties.

Let’s be honest. It’s easy to hate them when you lose. It’s easier still when three out of five of your attempts don’t even kiss the netting. But, to their credit, some Cork fans admitted it too - this wasn’t how a Munster final should end. 

Hurling isn’t soccer. It’s a game of hooks and blocks, shouldering and body checks (the legal ones), handpasses, flicks, and ferocious pace. It’s not a game of lonely duels. 

Still, Cork won. They walk away with Mick Mackey. But if history tells us anything, it’s that neither of these two great sides like to lose. 

This rivalry isn’t done. It’s only heating up. And boy do we love it. Both sides carry the fire of champions. 

Next time won’t just be a match - it will be war.