Rapped knuckles are all part of childhood game revived in Carlow – Community – Carlow Nationalist
EWING’S bar in Carlow town played host to the second annual Dudes Championship of Conkers, where 16 determined contenders put pride—and knuckles—on the line to claim local bragging rights in a proudly low-tech showdown.
“It is just a simple bit of fun between a group of friends and a bit of a throwback to our younger days,” said co-organiser David McDonald, capturing the spirit of a game whose rules are simple, stakes are tangible, and nostalgia is the point.
After a flurry of cracking strikes and deft swings, Tommy Lennon emerged as champion, defeating Barry Broderick in the final. He lifted a trophy sponsored by Ivan Tucker of Douglas Jewellers, while Ewing’s kept the players fuelled with food on the night.
Playground mods, pub-league pride
Anyone who grew up on the schoolyard conker circuit will recall the timeless “performance enhancements” used to keep a chestnut swinging longer than the competition. Among the classic tweaks:
- Soaking conkers in vinegar
- Baking them to toughen the shell
- Sealing the surface with nail polish
That spirit of experimentation hasn’t been confined to childhood. The game’s highest stage has seen its own controversy: last year’s world championship in Britain made international headlines when it was alleged the winner had used a steel conker—allegations from which the victor was later cleared.
Keeping it fair in Carlow
No such drama surfaced in Carlow. To level the playing field, all conkers used at the Dudes Championship were collected from the same cluster of horse chestnut trees just off the Athy Road. Players then drew their conkers at random before the first clash, ensuring nobody benefited from a hand-picked ringer.
As McDonald explained, sourcing the raw materials has become part of the ritual. “It is a bit of a trick to get conkers these days. The trees are not what they used to be but we know a little area so that’s where we go and get our stash. Everyone has a bit of fun.”
In an age of screens and sensors, the Carlow conkers crowd keeps it delightfully analog: a string, a chestnut, a steady hand, and a good-natured willingness to risk a bruised knuckle. It’s community competition at its simplest—rooted in local tradition, powered by friendly rivalry, and built to last, one satisfying crack at a time.
