I was picking up a few messages this evening in Centra, Templemore and in the time since, in the midst of cleaning up after a toilet training 2 year old, I almost omitted to log my brief but pleasant interaction with talismanic sideline sergeant Big Rob Ryan in said convenience store.
In typically lame muldoon fashion, I enquired from Rob as to his beloved Knock’s chances in the cuthroat Mid Junior B Hurling Championship and whether they had dipped into the Roscrea/Laois/Offaly borderlands transfer market, as is their wont. Rob smiled ruefully and said he is not involved this year but will be glad to help out if called upon.
I also enquired in a jocular manner as to the availability of All Ireland Final tickets in either code; he said that he has his phone on silent as he is sick of cunts ringing him. I left it there as I’d imagine he wants to maintain concentration and focus ahead of Sunday as he will be probably called upon to escort an inebriated Mark Landers from the pitch before Landers embarrasses himself. Besides, Rob seemed to be in a slight hurry and doesn’t seem like a man who would walk to the dinner table. He was probably starving after a hard day’s work.
A bumper night in Galway.
First up having endured a nightmare of Galway traffic due no doubt to thousands of Galwegians turning out onto the streets to watch a few papier maché heads I reached the turn off for the Galmont when who did I see trying to get out of the Galmont into a queue of traffic only Damien “the Baysht” Comer. Damien was driving a sponsored Volkswagen. Monaghans were the supplier. I assume the Galway panel were in the gym or the pool in the Galmont.
Just now I went down to the bar in the Galmont for a nightcap when who was beside me at the bar only Padraig Joyce. Padraig retired to a quiet corner of the lounge with a pint of lager. I was about to drop down and make an unwelcome nuisance of myself when he was joined by a lady of attractive mien and I thought the better of it and left them alone.