We've all been there. You know you have a match the next morning, but the lure of a few pints the night before is too great to ignore.
It all seems like a great idea at the time, until the following morning hits you like a tonne of bricks. What happens next?
Here are the seven stages of playing a GAA match with a hangover:
Shock and Disbelief
The day begins in the worst possible way, when you are absolutely lifted out of the bed by your alarm. "Jesus I feel rough, I can't believe I'm this hungover."
You knew you had a match this morning, it was always a bad idea to head down to the local for 'one or two'. It was never going to be that easy. Once the pints were flowing it was only going to end one way, but you still claim it's the shorts that killed you.
You may be shocked at your current state, but you really shouldn't be.
Wait, am I actually that bad? After all, it was only eight or nine pints and a few whiskeys. Sure I'm grand, I slept like a log as well.
A couple of pints of water and a slice of toast and I'll by flying. I won't be long shaking it out of me.
You're in the car on the way to the match, and that's when the guilt hits. You suddenly feel as though last night was the culmination of a lifetime of bad decisions that has led you to this moment.
Why do you do it to yourself, don't you ever learn your lesson? How many times do you need to make a show of yourself like this?
Anger and Bargaining
You're in the dressing room at this stage, and there is absolutely no sign of the hangover to subside. It's then that you start to plead to some sort of higher power.
If i can just get through this match, I swear I'll never touch another drop of drink again.
It was those showers of dopes that I call my friends that made me do it, I didn't even want to go on the pints. Please let the man I'm marking be just as hungover as me.
Sure who can resist a few Saturday night scoops? I'd do anything to be put on the bench at this stage.
Depression, Loneliness, Reflection
The pitch can be a lonely place when you are hanging out of your arse. You can barely follow the play, how are you supposed to track a man around the pitch?
You consider giving up the sport altogether, is it even really worth it? After all, we are but fleeting specks of dust in this endless cosmic arena.
Society is a construct, and this game is nothing more than a rudimentary and primal effort at domination over your neighbours.
Oh shite, there goes my man.
Reconstruction and Working Through
Don't look now, but you're actually getting into the swing of things. Yeah you feel like crap, but you haven't made a show of yourself yet.
It's not your best game by any means, you have been fairly bad in fact. But you have adjusted well to your lack of mobility, you let the game come to you.
Your team is losing, but there's lads getting roasted that haven't even been out on the beer. You've done well.
Sure look, what's done is done. You lost the game, by a lot, but it's not the end of the world. Considering the state you were in a couple of hours earlier, it could have been much worse.
All in all, the match was a success. This is probably a bad thing, considering it has given you an excuse to do it all again next week.
Now, is anybody up for the cure?