What about Trevor Brennan? For those who don’t follow such matters, Trevor is a six-foot-five 220-pound savage, a former Ireland international rugby player, latterly of Leinster and now with Toulouse.
Trev played exactly thirty seconds of rugby for Toulouse against Ulster on Sunday. First, he charged into the crowd and beat the shit out of an Ulster supporter, although in fairness to Trev, the same supporter was a smirking shifty little cunt who deserved a good beating just for looking like an unshelled tortoise. Apparently, Trev claims that the Ulster supporter, Patrick Bamford, made disparaging remarks about his mother, which is a thing that will get you going every time.
I remember once playing a soccer match and this bollix on the sideline kept shouting things about my mother.
Oy, Bock! he screamed. Your mother never changed the engine of a tractor!
Fuck you, I thought to myself, but said nothing.
After I’d nabbed a nice in-swinging floater from Mebbs McCarthy and nodded it into the back of the net, the same fool had another go.
Your mother is older than you!
Again I let it pass.
Then, right on the button of ninety minutes, just as I latched onto a sweet pass from Knackers McGonigal, your man piped up again.
Oy, Bock. Your mother couldn’t boil winkles in a big winkle-boiling thing for winkles.
That did it. In one fluid motion, I volleyed Knackers’s ball past the keeper while at the same time producing the trusty old Colt .44 Magnum I always keep in my knickers, and plugged him straight between the eyes.
I’d say it was the same for Trevor. Here was this cunt saying bad things to him, and Trevor decided there was only one thing for it. Jump into the crowd and pummel the living shit out of him with a fist the size of a medium ham. As you would. Anyway, the pounded one is an accountant and he’s wearing a stupid Santa hat at the end of January. In France, the courts will accept that as a sound defence. Remember, France is the land where Eric Cantona and Zinedine Zidane are national heroes, and fair play to them.
Of course, it didn’t help Trev’s case that he then went onto the pitch and immediately became involved in a full-scale fist-fight with Justin Harrison before being sin-binned. After that, his manager wisely chose to substitute him and he took no further part in the game.
Good man, Trev.