Smug self-satisfied moment coming up.
My very good friend Dickler delivered the goods in two tranches yesterday and today. One for The Bullet, a schoolboy ticket, and one nerve-frayingly late entry-voucher pour moi. Thank you Dickler. Thank you. Thank you again. Thanks. Thank you. Woooo Hoooo!!!!
Now we have a big decision. Do we rush home after the game, or stay the night. Did you hear that gobshite mayor of Limerick urging people not to stay in Dublin on census night, because it would reduce the official population of Limerick? Oh fuck off. Gimme a break. Isn’t it awful, in smallish places like Limerick, what parochial, small-minded gits manage to slither into public office? And not-so-smallish places. I need only think of the pricks that took over Dublin County Council and for years enriched themselves by passing Section 4 resolutions in return for cash.
This is straying a long way from wooo hooo. Let us return to Planet Rugby, and I’ll tell you one thing: whatever the pundits say, there’s no way Cardinal Cathal Daly would have the pace to outrun an international full-back in the modern game.