A message to Mr Carey...

Residents of Erris will be discomforted to hear that the former Chief Superintendent of the Mayo Garda Síochána, John Carey, has been appointed as a local consultant to the Corrib Gas Project. Carey ‘s new role, which will be part-time, will ‘see him meeting local groups and residents and conveying their hopes and concerns relating to the project to the Corrib management team’ according to last week’s Mayo News. He will, apparently, ‘also be involved in informing people locally about the plans for the project as it moves forward’.

Carey’s appointment is fast on the heels of the appointment of two other prominent locals. Journalist Christy Loftus, and former County Secretary, Padraig Hughes now act as ‘external advisors’ to Shell. Both men are in a prime position to influence local opinion and defend the role of Shell in endangering the lives of the local community and ripping off the Irish taxpayer.

Carey, a local man from Bangor, resigned his position in the guards in April 2005. He had been Chief Superintendent of the area, stationed in Castlebar for the previous 9 years. He is generally considered to have ‘retired early’. Perhaps he just wasn’t Assistant Commissioner material. He is also a well known Mayo GAA personality. He captained the team to win the National League in 1970 and went on to win All Star honours, becoming Mayo’s first All Star in 1971.

The end of casinos and card rooms in Ireland?

Blurry eyed from the adrenalin...

About four years ago I got a job working for security in a large Vegas-style casino in Auckland, New Zealand. On my first morning I was introduced to the manager and other people I would be working with, handed a swipe pass, and given a list of my daily duties. The casino and adjoining conference centre and hotel were open 24 hours, all year round, and employed roughly 2,000 people in total. The majority of these were food/drink and cleaning staff on three rotating eight hour shifts. I had started on a Monday morning at 8am, and after being shown the ropes in the control room, my team leader asked me if I'd like to go on a tour of the gaming floor. Why not, I replied.

So off we went down to the enormous gaming floor. Bear in mind this was before 9am on a Monday, so I expected the place to be near empty, maybe a few cleaners hoovering the deep green carpets or polishing the roulette wheels in anticipation of a few people drifting in later on in the afternoon. Not a bit of it. Tables were full, cards being dealt, lights flashing and buzzers sounding, chips being stacked and counted. The "one armed bandit" areas were the worst. Red-eyed, gaunt, pasty, slouching, with their change bucket in one hand and the other eternally poised over the button, these people looked like they'd been there all night, all week, all their lives.

This was in huge contrast to the other "casinos" I'd previously been in - namely the Merrion, and the Jackpot (now closed, as far as I know) on Montague Street. These were card rooms, with no more than 60 people playing in a knockout Texas Hold'em tournament. There was no alcohol, they certainly werent open 24 hours, and the atmosphere was intimate and reasonably relaxed. They were operating in a legal grey area, and even though I'd been playing poker for a good while with friends in private house games, very few people seemed aware of their existence. In the last four years though, there's been a huge upsurge in people playing poker, and the casinos have multiplied in Dublin, and beyond.