The Tiger roared for ten
years. He was exhibited
to all as a ʻloanʼ figure.

That is to say just one tiger. He
represented wealth and economic
growth. However, had this warrior
tiger arrived with his family,
we might have seen something
completely different, a pride.

And most of us are aware what
pride comes before. Yes, I can
read your mind, it is a dreadful
pun. Yet, as a metaphor of the
sorry state in which we find ourselves,
it serves its purpose.

What have we now? What
legacy of this Tiger remains? We
look around and see mass unemployment,
schools not fit for habitation,
and partially-built apartments
and houses. And the most
obvious legacy of all, greed.
I have no sympathy for those
who mortgaged their homes to
purchase three and four apartments
abroad. I have even less
time for those ʻhigh flyersʼ seen
on television– ʻThe Popeʼs Children
ʼ. One man almost wet himself.
Why? His €130,000 BMW
would take twelve weeks to deliver.
Shame.

At this juncture, I recall the
late Luke Kelly singing ʻThe
Rare Oul Timesʼ. He sings of
ʻglass cagesʼ along the quay. The
lyrics are miniscule compared
to the ubiquitous glass cages
all over Ireland today. I wonder
what Luke would think?

The city centre has a spire. Itʼs
devoid of any meaning. It represents
no one, no place, no occasion,
no battle, and no God. In
fact, itʼs anathema to a God.
And locally, the failure of this
Tiger is the new Landsdown Stadium.
It can be seen from numerous
locations around Ringsend,
Irishtown, Sandymount and
Ballsbridge.

The blueprint showed an artist
ʼs view of the stadium on
completion. However, it failed to
show in computer speak the airbrushing
of the natural beauty:
the beauty of the Dublin mountains.
A beauty that no man can
create.

This loss is patently visible
from Ringsend Bridge with the
towering mammoth structure
that ravishes the beautiful ambiance
of the Dublin hills.