Fair play Frampton says I

Let me begin by saying,

I do not know much about boxing. 

And what I know,it was taught by Stallone.

But let me continue by saying, 

right now, atm

I am quite drunk, 

but only quite. 

NEVERTHELESS.

FAIR PLAY TO CARL FRAMPTON.

LET IT BE KNOWN,

that I applaud the aforementioned man, 

the athlete, 

the 

boxer, the 

professional, 

and the

IRISHMAN. 

For a man to have grown up in the Tiger Bay area of Belfast 
and then 
to box for Ireland,

is in itself, 

highly commendable, i dare say Titanic.
(here here,...say we)

but to do so and then turn professional, 

and

"continue to transcend traditional barriers,"

THIS, this demands real admiration.

As a new World Champion, 

Carl Frampton has seized this admiration as the 
epitome

of a dual citizenship. 

He is Irish and he is British, 
but for many, 

it does not matter. 

And this is significant "in itself." 

I watched the fight with some fellow team members and, 

as part of our night of 'team bonding' 

we enjoyed the fight in an evening of glum-alcoholic revelry-

and at no point were the issues of religion, political affiliation or nationality ever raised-

It was the perfect example of a "post-Irish Nationalist" agenda.
HOW-EV-ER.
It cannot be denied that to support someone solely because of their geographical closeness to oneself; as in Framptom's case,
as a Belfast lad born and bred; 

is a nationalist act, as represented by the crowds in Enniskillen 

tonight cheering on the Tiger Bay Belfast boxer. 

Yet it more importantly displays the new-found fact that to support such a figure is not an exclusive activity. 

The hands of neither side were tied when attempting to clap and cheer for the newly crowned 
IBF super-bantamweight Champion of the world. 

He is, undoubtedly, a uniter
Lyrically

A Northern Irishman; 

A Briton: 

and an Irishman. 

One man for many, let us say;
and let them squabble and try and claim him

post-victoriously.
An Irish Murray to be had?

As long a they let him remain as he is,a 
transcendental figure. 

Such ambiguity is needed, athink,
just now, 

and if that ambiguity be represented 
by Barry McGuigan's 'chosen' flag

all the better. 
or the nationality of a Belfast Boxer, 
The untainted messiah will never come.

Better the ambiguity accepted in sport, 

than a bloody confusion.
Hail to the unknown and trusted flag.
I like her, anyway.

Here Here. 
Listen, and

Raise a glass...

Slánte, says he. 
Agus, comhghairdeas. Says I. 
On repeat.

Ní mhaireann tú ach aon uair amhaoín,
 say they.
Them, I Don't 
Trust.
Fuckin' white, Gold, bLUE bLACK. A Rhetoric stolen, trivialised and militarised.
At least fists will not lie.
Says I.

And remember, right now, I'm actually quite drunk.

Imagine what I could write, 

and me sober.