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Humour Sport

Numbersixvalverde

Numbersixvalverde. What a great name for a horse. Numbersixvalverde. As with all strokes of true genius, of course, it’s staring you in the face once you actually see it. Numbersixvalverde. Just call the horse whatever your address is.

At one stroke, this has relieved gobshites everywhere of the obligation even to think. We’ll call it after the fekkin house. Dunroamin! Gerimar! Fuckin Compostella, even. Lourdesville, Aaarghh. I suppose we can now look forward to a glut of Medugorje-type horses. Come on Harkanovci 357!! Attaboy 25638 Novo Selo na Dravi ! Things are looking really great over here with this innovation. Thanks.

It reminds me of the time I used to call to Wrinkly Paddy for a few pints on Fridays, and there was a row of houses on the way, all with saints’ names. I used to say them to myself as I passed, a sort of mantra in anticipation of four or six glorious pints of Guinness.

St Martin, pint for us
St Jude, pint for us
St Anthony, pint for us
St Joseph, pint for us
St Martin again, pint for us
St Therese pint for us
St Jude again, pint for us

For about two years I passed those houses, wondering what sort of mentality could be at work in this naming scheme until, one day, I noticed that somebody had changed the name of one of the houses. As I walked past, my Guinness litany became subtly different.

St Martin, pint for us
St Jude, pint for us
St Anthony, pint for us
St Joseph, pint for us
St Martin again, pint for us
St Therese, pint for us
Beware of the Dog . . .

On a parochial Limerick note, I must say I’m looking forward to the titanic struggle in next year’s Grand National between 563 O’Malley Park and 42 Hyde Road. Do you think the Grand National will allow sulkies next year?