I don’t think the ashes has happened yet
Which team?
Waratahs 
Thought it might the the loins
A belated happy 85th birthday to the Great Man. Born on the 6th of June. A landmark day in history in so many ways.
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£500 for a 4 ball 
Im hearing the aussies playing dirty already
Go on. Fill us in……
Zander Fagerson is OUT
Congrats to Finlay “Problematic Hair” Bealham on the call-up
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This hits hard as I saw an interview with Zander straight after the squad announcement and you could see how overjoyed and filled with pride he was to be selected as one of the pride of British Lions.
I see baby Pollock is going to have to mind the baby Loin for the tour.
Top bantz from the guys, in fairness
The australian manager with the mind games already, very dirty
It feels incredibly appropriate that on the day the Dublin Gay Pride festival starts, our very own Pride Of British Lions begin the expedition with a home match in Dublin.
im hearing that there is talk of a corteo from Capel st to the Aviva
That would be amazing. It would be like a mixture of a Oranje march (Dutch fans procession) a Royal wedding, and an Orange march.
I’ve seen the Baa Baas at Lansdowne Road but to attened an actual British Lions game in Dublin would be next level.
I’ve set the cap at how much I’m willing to pay for a ticket on the black market at GBP£766.62 (€900).
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You should go to Smyths in Ranelagh or Gleesons of Booterstown for a few midweek morning scoops and watch the British Loins Dirt Trackers against the Brumbies or Waratah’s on a Wednesday morning in July.
I’d imagine there’d be a serious class of person in attendance.
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I’d say the Merrion Inn is Ground Zero for this sort of gathering.
Perhaps the most Lionsy thing I’ve ever experienced was during the Volvo Ocean Race in Galway in June 2009. There were a lot of Lions jerseys around. It was about half four and I have a recollection of being high up over the harbour queueing to get in to have a look at the inside of some yacht that had inexplicably been placed 60 feet up in the air. The sun was splitting the stones, the Lions were taking on some shower of Voortrekkers called the Golden Lions that evening, and 60 feet up in the air all the talk among the people ahead of me in the queue, who I did not know, was of the barbecue/barbeque/barbecque/barbequeue one of the guys was having that evening to coincide with the Lions game. The bang of upper middle classness off this conversation was intoxicating.
The idea of a barbe-queue, a braai on this stunning June evening, with the dust rising off the parched back garden grass, coinciding with the Lions playing in the land of braais, the land of dust rising off the parched, oxygen deprived bone dry pitches of the high veldt, this just seemed RIGHT to me. Especially after the sailing. It reminded me of the Daily Telegraph’s paragraph about England beginning its World Cup endeavour, when God was in his heaven and all was right with the world.
You could almost smell this braai, inhale it, just from the overheard conversation. There’d be talk about golf, talk about Alexandra starting the Leaving Cert that day and how she’d better get the points after the expense of sending her to that grind school, talk about Schull this summer, talk about Conleth heading off to San Diego on the J1 next week, talk about power washers, talk about investment opportunities in a crisis because this is when the real money is made.
It would be the sort of thing that if you were invited to attend, you’d instinctively know there and then that you’d made it in life.
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Do you keep journals?
He was in a que to look inside a boat, but a few lads ahead of him were on about doing a barbecue and having a few cans. He just shited on and wasted our time again with nonsense to pad it out.
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