Hasta Luego, by Senor Loco

Updates readers !

This has not been easy. Unfortunately Senor Loco also has a life, which does not help with the blogging. You may have noticed a fall off in the number of posts for a few weeks ( and, some have said, the quality). Sorry about that, but I couldn't give it the attention it deserved and frankly, I was a bit under pressure. If you'd asked me then, I'd have said it wasn't worth the effort. But now that its coming to an end, I'm feeling a bit sad. So maybe, and I stress MAYBE, I'll see you in the Autumn.
Anyway, thank you to all the followers and nice people who made encouraging comments here and on other sites. Have a nice summer! To people who made less nice comments, also have a nice summer, and stay classy.
Muchos Garcias,

Loco.

The Bull Speaks by The Bull

Moooooooo.

Heh.

Last Post by Keith

I am ready to go home now. I have some colouring books, and my psp for the flight home. I bought some horns for the lads at home but Paulie said I had to pack them in my luggage after only an hour of me practicing ! Meanie. I will see Tomás and Flanners and Quinners but I will not be rubbing it in but I will tell them all about it and how much better it would have been if they had been here. That is life and it is sometimes hard, Paulie told me. He is right, and not just about the horns !

Anyway, Africa was brilliant ! I have learned a lot of new tricks that I will use next year and hopefully I will get to win a Heineken cup because Magners just gives me a stomach ache and a very very sore head. It is not cidona. We did not get to drink Champagne this time with the Lions but Paulie says if I keep my head down and my nose to the grindstone and my shoulder to the wheel I will kick on and if I am lucky I will get to play in Australia with the Lions and see Kangaroos and Koalas and things. That will be brilliant too! I love Home and Away.

Oh, and they are called the Lions and not De Lyons. They do not have anything to do with Tea !!!
Thank you to all the people who said nice things about my posts.

Bye
Keith

One thing I HAVE Learned by Luke

I was, famously, brief in my experiment with third level education. With a development contract and BOD on my side, well, why waste time in the UCD college bar, telling lies about how baked you got the night before, and who you got off with in Spirit or Club M ? But, even in that brief time, I learned one rule of life.
Med Students are wankers.
To be fair, I guess its the pressure, or whatever. Still have time to bag a few nurses, mind you. Although, I know, like, who hasn't? But apparently every year a few of them mess up and have to either take a quick trip to England or else find that the ob-gyn module has a whole new immediacy for them. This simple lack of comprehension of cause and effect worries me. These are the fellas who'll be lookin' after me in my, like, thirties or whatever. Reassuring, not.
All of which is to say that there are exceptions to every rule. Dr. Phil, obviously. And now I've met another. Learner Doctor, Jamie Roberts. What a champ. Well done fella.

African Facts by Keith

I have been given a job ! Paulie asked me to compile some interesting facts about Africa so that we will all have learned something before we go home. I stood up this morning to the Irish lads after some boring talking by some scottish fella.

" Keith's amazing facts about Africa. One! " I siad "Four of the five fastest land animals live in Africa – the cheetah, which can run at an amazing 70 miles per hour, wildebeest, lion and gazelle."
" Well no wonder Habana and the backs is so fast." Ugo said.
" Two " I said "Africa is the home of the Human spe...., spekeye, er, spush, er... Race, which developed there about 5 million years ago! "
" And if Burger is anything to go by, stopped developing there soon after. " Donners said.
"I hear that ! " Luke said.
" We all heard that, like, Luke." I said. " He's only sittin' over there."
"Go on Keith." Paulie Said. " Don't mind them messers."
"Right." I says. " Ahem. Three. Many children in Africa don’t get to go to school. If you grew up in Mali in west Africa, you’d only have a one in three chance of havin' to go to primary school. " I looked around. " How lucky are they, like? "
"Daycint " Donners says.
" Luke, err, maybe it isn't a good thing...." Stephen Jones started to say, but the lads hushed him.
I decided to keep going.
" Four - The Banjo like what Flanners pretends to play started off in Africa as an instrument called the hodu ! "
"Hodu ? Dey do !" Donners said. "Hur hur! "
"I wondered if it isn't too late to send every Banjo back to Africa and forget it ever happened?" asked Wally.
" Considering all the good music that's come out of Africa, I guess you have to forgive them for it." Hairy Welsh Fella said.
" You've obviously never seen the Wolfe Tones. " Wally said.
"African, are they? " HWF said.
" Five." I said " The Nile is the longest River in the world. If you straightened out all the bends, it would flow from the Equator to the Scottish Highlands ! This is a very long way indeed." I said.
" It sure is. " Ross Ford said. " Especially if you had to swim it. "
Everyone looked at him.
"Why would you have to swim it? " Paulie asked.
"Well, I dunno, just sayin' it would be. "
"Ok then. Sure. Good." Paulie said. " Now , everyone. What have we learned?"

There was a consultation. Eventually they decided they had learned that The Wolfe Tones should be sent to Africa to play banjos while Schalk Burger is chased by cheetahs and PDV made to swim the length of the Nile before being given a job as a teacher in Mali.

" I think he'd be happier there alright. " Paulie said, nodding.
"Well done Keith. " He said then.
Then he patted my back and gave me a chuppa chup.
I love Paulie.

Looking Back, by Luke

Well. So err, yeah. I'm pretty much on my holidays now, I guess. Have to put in a few more training sessions, mainly as cannon fodder, and then, I guess, back home.
The eye is fine. The tan is nice.
So yeah. What have I learned ?
Errrrr....
Can you leave it with me?

THE CHILDREN - By HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED

"Someone made a really good point to me that kids, or parents watching an interview like that, questioning whether they should have their kid play rugby or soccer, that’s their decision made right there." - To G Thornley in the IT



HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED believes that children are our future
Treat them well and let them lead the way INTO GLORIOUS BATTLE
Show them all the beauty the possess inside, AND HOW TO HIDE IT AS A WEAKNESS
Give them a sense of pride IN THE CRACKING OF THEIR SKULLS
And make it easier TO ENDURE THE INEVITABLE PAIN
Let the childrens laughter,
Remind us how we used to be WEAK AND EMOTIONAL

HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED decided long ago,
Never to walk in anyone's shadow ! TOO RIGHT
If I fail IF I WHAT?
If I succeed OF COURSE
At least I live as I believe AS IF ALL MORTALS SHOULD WORSHIP ME
No matter what they take from HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED
They can't take away my dignity UNLESS HE IS MAKING A MARRIAGE PROPOSAL

Because the Greatest Love of All THAT OF MINIONS FOR THEIR MASTER
Is happening to HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED

I found the greatest love of all
Inside of me ALONG WITH THE GREATEST OF EVERYTHING ELSE
The greatest love of all
Is easy to achieve WAIT FOR IT
Learning to love HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED
It is the greatest love of all


THANK YOU, AND GOODNIGHT.

You have to Laugh by Donners

What is the difference between ROG and a fisherman?
A fisherman sometimes catches things with his tackle.

Ba Boom - TISH.

Sorry, ROG. You know its the Munster way, though.
Here's another.

Take a scratch team, give them the shortest possible time to prepare, make them play weak provincial sides while you keep your best players on the sidelines, play your first test at sea level and your second on top of a mountain, and then celebrate like loons when you manage to beat them by a total of eight points.

Ba Boom....
That one looses a little in translation from the Afrikaans, I think.

Sorry Tommy by DONNERS

Yeah, sorry about that Tommy, boy. Hands up, myself and Rog took you and Croftie's beds.
Thing is like, it wasn't actually a prank. For some reason I came over with a case of bad homesickness on Wednesday night. Face on me! And I was sittin', lookin' out the window at the rain on THursday, when ROG comes over and asks me why I'm looking like a bulldog thats licked piss of a nettle.
His colourful turns of phrase have improved no-end since he started hangin' out with the boyos.
Any, I says to him, " Rog Boy, I've got an awful case of the blues. I'm missing home, like! ".
And he goes, " Don't talk to me boy. Came over me too, Wednesday. Know what it is?"
I shook my head.
"Bonna Night, boy, Bonna Night ! "
When he siad it it all made sense. The smell of burning tyres, the yelpin' dogs, the scream of the fire-brigade sirens. Sub-conciously, or whatever, I was missin' it.
"Jayzis Rog, thats it now boy! We've missed it. "
"Well," he said. " No reason why we can't have a bonna over here, is there?"
" A Boer Bonna !"
" Spot on ! "
Well, now, as every cork feen'll tell ya, a bonna isn't a bonna without a few ol' mattresses. And sure while we were there, the bases didn't look like they'd been replaced in years. Rog insisted on folding everything before we left. He's fussy like that.
So anyway, before two long the first African Bonna was burnin' pretty well on a piece of waste ground behind the hotel. The locals got into the spirit o' the thing, too, pitched up with a few more tyres, a bit of ol' wood and about a million songs. Me and ROG did our version of 'De Banks', but we only knew those two lines that everyone knows. The locals gave us a cheer though.
Then a fire brigade came and everyone booed and whistled and ROG called them ol' killjoys and would they like to come over and fight a true corkman. Turns out they didn't have a problem with that so me and ROG had to take to our heels fairly handy and get over the fence back into the compound. It was like bein' fifteen again.
All in all, a daycent evenin' and I'm all set to go again.

So sorry, Tommy. I'll bring you to a bonna next year, it'll make up for it. I'll even through in an ol' can o' Dutch Gold. Can't say fairer than that, can I ?

Our Bonna

The Baron, By LUKE

Yesterday I went into the lounge and who was there with his netbook open and a piece of paper in front of him but the Robster.
"Robbie? Whats shakin' ?"
"Oh hey Luke. Nothin' much. Just working on my nickname?"
"Your nickname? I thought it was Stinky?"
" I thought I asked you never to mention that?" He goes, all hostile. "That was a family thing. No, you heard them chanting BEAST, BEAST, BEAST the other night?"
Sure did. I nodded.
"Well, the agent reckons if I can come up with something that good, it wouldn't do my brand recognition any harm at all."
Ignoring the ten minutes I spent calling him a tool for using a phrase like 'brand recognition', I had to eventually admit he had a point. Or his agent.
" Alright then, " I said, " What have you got so far? "
"Well only two so far. You ready? Number one. Rob ' The Beast' Kearney."
He looked at me. I looked at him.
"Ok, so its taken. I was just warming up. Ready?"
"Hello, born ready? Lay it on me."
"Rob 'The Baron' Kearney."
I looked at him. He looked at me.
"Why?" I said, eventually. "Do you have some actual connection with Royalty, or something?"
"No, no. Look, its Rob, as in Robber, as in Robber Baron."
He looked at me like a spaniel, waiting for its kicking. I sat back, and thought about Anglo Irish, BOS, and the economy generally. Where to begin. I shook my head.
"Rob, " I Said, " That is pure......GOLD. Dude, how did you come up with that?"
His shoulders slumped, relieved. He smiled, tried to look modest.
"English was always my best subject."
"Not history? No, English, obviously. Obviously. Man, you should start using it straight away.If only you had some way to get it out there, to the people. Then they could cheer you on at the next test. "
"Yeah," he said. " Pity, that. "
We sat in silence. I looked significantly at the netbook.
"Dude !" He said. " I could change my facebook profile!"
"Perfect ! " I said. " Get to it, dude ! "
I left him at it.
Its an attack of the guilts that got me blogging about it here. Apparently he got an awful slagging from the family & friends. But hey, thats what happens on tour. Pranking. Everyone is fair game.

Called Up By Luke

A good team spirit is important so I'll just say this once.

EAT THAT KEARNEY !
WHO'S THE MIDWEEK MONKEY BOY NOW ?


(And yes, I am aware that its neither of us, but I feel the need to say it anyway. )

Shark Burgers by Keith

I am feeling a little more special after my try. Paulie told me that individual effort even in an ultimately unsuccessful cause can be heroic, like the Great Patrick Sarsfield and his resistance against the Williamite hordes in 1690. He said that was a draw too. Then he rubbed my head and said I was a proper little scamperer altogether and he gave me a chuppa chup. I was happy then.

Today at the team meeting there was a lot of talk about Burgers. Apparently they have Shark Burgers here, and they are big, meaty, and tasty with ball in hand. I guess that you must eat them after games, or somethin' . I wonder if they are as good as Donkey Ford's Salad Burger?
I asked Donners about it. I said " Donners, wouldn't a Burger like that have a lot of teeth?"
He said " Not after I'm finished with him."
I did not understand what he meant.

New Drill - By Luke

Well, there is still technically a chance I guess that I'll make the team on Saturday but lets face it, its slimmer than Kate Moss after a fortnight round Pete Doherty's place. And bloody Kearney's being insufferable. Calling me his Midweek Monkey-boy and asking me to wash his boots. Last pair ended up in the bidet. I guess they're useful for something other than washing your nethers. The bidet, I mean, not the boo.... Movin' on.
Anyway, was not the happiest in today's training. But Howley was pretty chipper when he came out. We should have known something was up. He lined us up on the 22.
" Right guys. Having reviewed the tapes and spoken to some experts at home, we have identified an area that we can certainly improve. Back to basics jobbie. "
We all nodded. Scrum work, I figured. Or the breakdown.
"Now, when I call your name, you come out, catch the ball when I pass it to you and do exactly what I tell you. Got it? "
We nodded, shaped up.
"OK, UGO ! " he called.
Moyne took off like a scalded cat towards him. Caught the ball fairly handy.
" Keep going !" Howley screeched. " Over the line over the line over the line annnnnnnnd TOUCH IT DOWN ! "
Ugo trotted back, looking pretty sheepish.
"Now lads, not that f***ing hard, is it? " Said Howley, pretty sharp.
We all looked at our feet. I don't know about the others, but I was trying not to laugh.
" Lets try it again, shall we?" he said. " Who shall I pick? Misterrrrrrr Phillips ! ....."
Made them do it ten or so times each.
Maybe being a dirt tracker isn't so bad, sometimes.

Battle of the Bulls by Keith

The Bull is here ! He brought me two new bags of Chuppa chups! Specially for me! This was nice, because I have been not feeling special out here lately. But Paulie took me aside when I did not make the test team and gave me a hanky to wipe my face and made me blow my nose and told me that ''he also serves who only stands and waits''. I thought that I had been given the job of team waiter and walked around with a napkin over my arm for three hours taking drinks orders before Paulie explained it some more to me.
Anyway, waiting will be easier with Bull here. Sometimes he picks me up by my ankles and swings me around until I feel sick ! I like that. When he got here I showed him the room and asked him about Quinnie and showed him the computer games and the pool table and the table-tennis table.
Then we bumped into Phil Vickery.
" Bull ! " I said. " This is Phil. He is also called Bull! Isn't that funny?"
The room went very quiet. My Bull raised one eyebrow. Phil Vickery Bull frowned.
Then they both reached out and shook hands.
There was a rumbling noise. A large crack ran across the ceiling of the room and down one wall.
Dust fell from it. The two Bulls stood in the middle while the room shook around them.
Then it was quiet again.
"Actually Keith, " Phil said, " They used to call me Raging Bull."
He sighed.
"Used to. " He said then, and looked a bit sad.
The quiet then was what is called awkward.
My Bull reached across and laid a hand on his shoulder.
" Will again." He said. " Mr Vickery. "
"Thank you." Phil said. " Mr Hayes."

Then we went out to find Paulie.

Last Instructions by Quinnie

He was just showing me how to work the flatscreen and dvd in the parlour. The milking parlour, like. He shows them League of Ireland highlights on a continuous loop. Practically puts them to sleep. Slip on the old suckers and off you go.
" So let me get it straight now, Bull." Says I. " Tuesdays and Thursdays, the aromatherapist comes at 7 for the heifers and milk cows. "
He nodded.
" Wednesdays and Fridays they get acupuncture."
He nodded.
"And on Thursdays the bullocks get water therapy."
He nodded.
" And the rest of the week the physio comes to massage them. "
He nodded.
"Game ball." I said.
There were farm aid people in to do the donkey work. Bull just wanted me to watch to make sure his extras were kept up.
We were walking out when I noticed it in the corner. Its a big parlour.
"Bull!" I said. " Is that what I think it is."
He smiled shyly and nodded again.
"So you knew all along !"
He gave a waggle of his shovel like hand.
"No harm in being prepared." He rumbled.
"True enough. " I said.
I looked at it a bit longer.
"Where do you even buy a hypobaric chamber, anyway, Bull?" I asked.
He'd already moved on though.

The Bull - A Musical Tribute

To dream the impossible dream,
To fight the unbeatable foe,
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go;





To right the unrightable wrong.
To love, pure and chaste, from afar,
To try, when your arms are too weary,
To reach the unreachable star!



This is my Quest to follow that star,
No matter how hopeless, no matter how far,
To fight for the right
Without question or pause,
To be willing to march into hell
For a heavenly cause!


And I know, if I'll only be true
To this glorious Quest,
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest.





And the world will be better for this,
That one man, scorned and covered with scars,
Still strove, with his last ounce of courage,
To reach the unreachable stars!

Captains Speech, By Donners.

The name is Donners. Captain Donners. The Don. The Cap-don !

Ten-hut ! 'tEase !
Well, lads, I can see we've plenty to work on. Later.

Don't worry, lads, I won't be letting it change me. I'm still the hilarious, handsome, giant of a man you've all come to know and love over the last few weeks. A simple salute will be sufficient in the halls, standing to attention only necessary in group situations.

At all other times I would like you to treat me as just one of you men. Well, a man who's orders you will follow til the ends of the Earth. Or even Limerick Junction. Whichever comes last. But still a man, is my point.

I know there will be times when you will doubt your abilities to reach the high standards which I will demand of you. How, you might ask yourselves, could I possibly fill the shoes of the man who once played a game of professional rugby in his jocks ? A man who put it all on the line like that? But remember this, I wouldn't be asking any sham to do anything I didn't think he could do. Just close your eyes, picture me in my red jocks, and push on. Think of me as inspiration. An exemplar, if you will. W,W, Donners, D, if you get me. Got me? Grand!

Now, lads, drop and gimme twenty.
Euro.
Each.

Cheers!

Its good to be the Captain.

Donners to G Henson, Email

Dear Gavin,

Wish you were here. Hi to yer wan !

Donners.

P.S. - What do you think of me tan? Shouldn't have taken the picture at night, maybe.

BOD and ROB by Luke

Sorry about the , whatsit, hiatus in recent posts. I have been sequestered with my Legal people. I've spent thousands to learn what I'm about to tell you now:
Never do business ( or beeesnez) with a man who puts a jug of Margarita on the table before you've even sat down.
So anyway, was doing my video analysis yesterday when Rob came up. There was something different about him. Took me a minute. The aroma. It was gone.
"Rob, man. YOu don't smell of charred meat anymore. What gives ?"
He looked surprised.
"Dude. That shite is over. Haven't you heard? He can't actually walk on water ? I mean, actually!"
He filled me in. The Cuz took a wrong turn at an embassy confab and stepped in some paddling pool, or something. I was on the phone to my agent telling him what I thought of him at the time, so I didn't see it.
"Man, " he said. " I don't mind telling you, its like a weight off my mind. When I look back at the way I was behaving..."
He shook his head.
"Its good to have you back, dude. " I said.
"Yeah. I know now your cousin's just one of the goys, you know. I'm going to put that in my blog."
Mention of his blog, well, it doesn't make what I did next alright, it just explains it. The thought of him earning money off his...
"So the cuz changed his shoes, did he?" I asked, innocently enough.
" Well, yeah, I guess. " he shrugged.
" Cos it must have been awkward walking around with wet socks, and shoes, and probably trousers aswell."
" I dunno, I didn't really notice...." He said.
"You didn't notice?"
" No. I dunno, it was one of the Jones's that made a big deal about it on the way home. The tall one who won't stop torturing us with his guitar." He was frowning now, like, what gives?
" So he walked into a pool of water and you didn't notice anything in his, like, clothes, or way of walking, or anything?"
"Well, no, now that you mention it..."
"Hmmm." I said, sitting back. " You don't think.....No. Its probably nothing."
" What's nothing ? " He asked, definitely worried.
"Well, I was just wondering, it wouldn't be like, a test of faith, or something?"
"A what ? " He asked, his face going pale.
"Like that guy in the Bible, you know, he had to kill his son with a burning bush, or whatever?"
"Abraham." He said distantly.
"Yeah, that guy." I said.
Rob got up.
"Excuse me. " He said, glassy-eyed. " I think I might go volunteer for barbeque duty later. "
I nodded.
"I'll get there early, then." I said to his retreating back.

Amn't I a stinker?

Bye Leigh and Stephen.

When I hurt my shoulder when that saffer fell on me it hurt. And then I had to have massages three times a day. They are called deep tissues massages. Because you need a lot of tissues afterwards, you are crying so much. They hurt worse than a chinese burn. Phil Pask is our physiotherapist. He would laugh when he was doing it. This also hurt.

It does not hurt worse than loneliness, though.

Legal Correspondance 2

Dear Mr Fitzgerald,

I have been asked to write to you on behalf of Mr. Loco Comico of Lococomico inc..

I write in a professional capacity but pro bono and informally, as Mr Comico is a noted philanthropist, running an urban goat sanctuary from the rooftop of his office building, where young lads from deprived areas of the city get to learn vanishing skillsets such as goat herding and cheese making, thus boosting their self-esteem. You may have read about his project recently in the papers. An unfortunate incident, but then the only animal these lads see on roofs are pigeons. It was lucky that truck was passing, and I believe the driver stopped to refuel somewhere around Newry and heard the bedraggled 'baa'-ing coming from the roof of his trailer. The goat is now well on the mend.

As you can imagine I was shocked to hear you were attempting to break a formal agreement to provide content to Mr Comico's latest venture, especially as you appear to have an airtight agreement. Admittedly, I've never seen one written on a napkin from the four seasons bar before, in what appears to be blood. Nonetheless it is a contract, signed by you, and woud cost you quite a pretty penny if you tried to break it. I urgently, er, urge you to put behind you what ever little grievance you may have with Senor Comico and get on with providing the service you agreed to. Or else the 30 or 40 k you're on out there might come to seem a small and trifling sum indeed compared to your legal fees.

Believe me. I know.

Yours Sincerely,

Rodney Du Pris.


P.S., On a personal note, well done on putting the Turnip-munchers back in their place. I managed to get a ticket thanks to the good offices of an old amigo and had a great view of your try. Nearly spilled my brandy ! Huzzah ! ! !

Duke Duke Duke by Keith

Duke,
Duke,
Duke,
Duke of Earls,
Duke,
Duke,
Duke of Earls
Duke,
Duke,
Duke of Earls
Duke
Duke

Stephen played this for me on his laptop. He said it is my team tune now. And he called me Duke. Maybe I have found my nickname at last. It is not as good as The Claw, but still.

A Joke by Keith

Why dosen't Tarzan play cards in The Jungle?
Because there are too many 'cheetahs'.

I wish I had known that one before the game. Donners told me and Leigh it and we laughed. When Donners went away Leigh said it was the oldest one in the book and I said Yeah ! though I was not sure what book he meant. Maybe the joke book. I will ask someone later.

I got a try and Paulie ruffled my hair which was a bit embarrassing in front of Leigh. He said I would get my treat later and I said Yeah, Cool. Leigh said What is your treat? And I said a nice strawberry and cream chuppa chup. Leigh said he liked cola ones better. I said maybe I did too.

But I don't really. I just want Leigh to be my friend. My best friend.

One-on-one with Paulie, by Keith

Paulie took me to one side after breakfast.
"What makes a great player, Keith?" He asked me.
"Character, Paulie." I said.
"And how do we come to know our character, Keith?"
"Through adversity, Paulie."
"Thats right Keith. And what is character, Keith?"
"It is our destiny, Paulie."
"Good, Keith. So in order to reach our destiny what do we have to do ?"
"Triumph over adversity, Paulie."
"Good lad. And who is bigger than the team?"
"No-one, Paulie."
"Thats right. So, lets see you embrace your destiny, today, Keith." He put his hand on my shoulder. "I believe in you."
" Thank you Paulie."

I love Paulie.

Lococomico Enterprises, inc.

- Hello, Lococomico Inc, how may I help you?
- Yeah, let me speak to the man.
- Certainly. Who may I say is calling?
- Luke.
-And will he know what its in connection with?
- My boot's connection with his arse.
-Certainly sir. Please hold.
{ Rustling sound as if a phone is being held to someones chest. Unidentified farm animal. The muffled noise of someone clearing his throat after speaking in falsetto. }
-Luuuuuke. Amigo, que tal?
- Don't speak Mexican to me, you mook, I know you're not from there.
- Amigo, I sense some hostility. What's up? Altitude got you down.
- Where's the money you promised me ?
- Luke, we're still in set up, pal. Our Click Through Rate is still pretty abysmal and the Adsense account took some time to get up and running due to a small administrative error....
-What kind of administrative error?
-One of the goats pee'd on the computer. One of those things.
-Goats? Your office is in Merrion Square !
- Well, you know, free grass, rich bohemian types, two and two makes....' Merrion Square Boutique Goats Cheese'. You want in on the ground floor, amigo?
- Just give me the figures.
- Sure, sure. Well, one goat produces about 8 gallons of milk a day. Free fodder equals pure profit, my man ! I have a friend who works in the Phoenix if we want to expand...
-FOR THE BLOG, you numpty.
- What? Oh, sorry. Well, since I dried out the hard drive and got the account set up, we've had approximately seven or eight thousand page impressions.
- Really? That sounds pretty good ! How much did that earn us?
- Just a sec. I'll just check to see if its changed. Yes. Hey, wow, its doubled!
- Doubled ! Great, lay it on me.
- Two cents.
- What? The line must have gone dodgy there. I thought you said two cents.
- Well, I'm afraid I did say two cents, Luke. I can't lie to you.
- Two cents? Two lousy cents! I've worked my ass off for one, er, fiftieth?, yeah , fiftieth, of a EURO!
- Well, one fiftieth of a dollar. They're American. With the exchange rate...
- Thats it. We're done. Don't call me back. And tell my agent he's a moron if you see him.
- Wait Luke, don't do anything hasty. It could pick up. People could actually click through to buy, you know, Sky Sports subscriptions or, err, Lyons Tea charity, ummm, giveaways. I thought you wanted to communicate directly with your fans....
- Goodbye.
*Click*
{Beep. Beep. Beep. Phone is hung up. Phone is picked up. Number is dialled.}
- Hello, is that Screwley, Naylum, and Billum? Can I speak to Rodney du Pris, please? Tell him its Senor Comico calling in that favour. Will I hold? Certainly.
{ Greensleeves. Maniacal Laughter swelling to a crescendo of Mwah HA HAWs. End. }

Rob and the Blog, By Luke

I was on my way out to work on the ol' ran-tan by the pool when I saw Rob in the corner of the hotel bar with a netbook in front of him.
"Man, " I said, " Donners is out there lashing on the baby oil and getting even browner? Why are you stuck in here like some sort of Clongowes swot-boy? "
" Chillax, man, I'll be out in a like, a sec. Just checking to see what I've written on my website?" he said.
"You have a website?" I said to him.
" Affermerino." He said. " Take a look."
I scanned it. As much as I could.
"Rob, I'm actually speechless?" I said.
" Cheers." He said.
I never actually thought I could be more bored than the two weeks I spent doing Arts in UCD, but the two minutes reading Robs blog passed more slowly than an Eddie Rockets burger through my small intestine.
"Write it yourself?" I said, to cover the awkward silence that was looming on the horizon like a friendly pocket battleship.
" Hell no." He said. " I take a more hands off approach. Talk to a fella for five minutes on the phone, he polishes it up, makes it more interesting, and posts it. Its really just a money spinning thing, anyway. Get a few bucks for the sponsorship, and it might lead to a spot on the box in a few years, the agent says. "
" The Box? " I asked.
" Yeah. How does this sound. Hookie, Popey and Kearney-ee. "
He wrote in front of him with his hands.
" Yeah, er, great." I said.
"What kind of deal you on with that blog you do?" He said. "Must be good for a few spondoolicks, eh? "
"Must it? I mean, yeah, you know, it must. My, errr, agent handles all that. "
"Cool." he siad, nodding sagely.
"Cool." I said. " If you'll excuse me, I have to make a phone call. "

My New Best Friend by Keith

There is a new lad on the tour. His name is Lee 1/2p. He is from Wales. Wales is like Ireland only wetter, Paulie says. He must be jokin'. On the pitch today 1/2p was looking up at the sky and looking worried. I told him that he should not worry that it was called the sun and that it was a long way away and would not fall down or nothin'. He said he thought that was what it was but he hadn't been sure he thought it might be a space time anomaly or somethin' like in Star Trek the time the bad lads blew up the Vulcan home world. Then we both did live long and prosper with our fingers.
Now we are best friends and talk about Halo and stuff and no-one knows what we mean cos they are all old farts. That is what Lee said. He is funny.
I like having a new best friend.

Rugby is confusing by Keith

I said to Wally last night that I had forgotten who we are playing next.

" De Lions." he said.
"But we are De Lions" I said.
"We are the British and Irish Lions, Keith." He said.
"Then who are these other fellas?" I said.
" The Golden Lions." He said.
"Should that not be the Lyons Golden Labels?" I said.
"What?" He said.
"What?" I said.
"Look, Keith. We play the Golden Lions and then we play the Cheaters." He said
" The cheaters!" I said. "Leicester? I hates them shower."
"No Keith, CheeeTAH's. Like the big cat, you know?" He said.
" No." I said.
" A cheetah is a big cat like a lion or a tiger, Keith." He said.
"So we are the Lions." I said.
"Yes Keith." He said
" And we are playing the Golden Lions." I said.
"Yes Keith." He said.
"And then we are playing the Cheetahs what are like the Lions but not Leicester." He said.
"Yes Keith." He said.
"That is a lot of Lions, Wally." I said.
"It is Keith." He said.
"Is their any team not called the Lions or any name to do with them?" I said
"There is Keith. There's the Sharks." He said.
" Sharks ! I loves Sharks, Wally." I said.
" Who doesn't, Keith?" He said
" They have so many teeth and if the loose one they grow another one and they eat everything and have to keep swimming or they drown. Fair mad, a fish who drowns, Wally !"
I said.
" That's amazing, Keith " He said. "They're like the lions of the sea."
"Yeah" I said.
I thought about Sharks for a while.
"What was I askin' you, Wally?" I said.
" If I wanted a chuppa chup, Keith." He said
" What !" I said
"Honest to God, Keith." He said.

Wally is an awful spoofer.
But I gave him a chuppa chup anyway.

Alteetude, by Keith

My shoulder is ok thank you for asking. I will not be able to play next week. I am sorry that I did not play as well as I should have against the Royals. I think it might have been because of the alteetude. This is the height of the land. Paulie explained it to me. Even though the land looks the same it is actually higher here. I think this is how Steven managed to hurt himself getting off the Bus. If the land is higher then the bus must have been higher so therefore he had longer to step. He did not remember and strained his thigh. This is logic.

Stephen calls me a Nicaraguan because I am from South of the Border. I asked him what someone from North of the Border is called. He said, "Lucky". So I called him Lucky for a while but he does not laugh at that now. I will call him Stephen from now on.

Paulie told me not to worry about the alteetude, that I would become used to it. So I do not worry about it. He did tell me what would happen to me if I wandered off again, so that is what I will worry about from now on.

Thank you.

Hunting Keith 2 by Luke

So I took a taxi with Mike Blair. He was standing by the door, well up for a little excursion. People call him Blade, apparently because he isn't the sharpest. He's the only one who dosen't know this. Perfect.
We arrived at what I can only call a shebeen. There were no lights on the street, which I think was probably a blessing.
"Wait here." I told the driver.
"I do not think so, sah." He said, and put pedal to metal as soon as we'd got out.
" Must be his busy time, och?" Said Blade, watching the brake lights disappear into the night.
"Right" I said. " Lets do this. You go first. "
We went in through the front door. Blade first. It was as if I'd walked into Clohessy's in Limerick wearing my Leinster gear and a billboard that said " Turnip-Munchers should play Bog-Ball and leave Rugby to Real Men". There was a silence broken only by drinks being put down and knuckles being cracked.
"Hows it goin', boys ?" Said Blade.
There was a sharp intake of breath. I was about to run for it, then thought about my chances of making my way back to the hotel in one piece. I decided to step up.
" Hello, gents." I said. " Sorry about Blade, he's Scottish. I'm just looking for my friend. Bald head. Looks about eight. Might have been carrying a toy lion."
The largest man in the world stood up.
" Where you from?" he said, glaring at me.
" Errr, Ireland." I squeaked.
" Ireland." He siad, with a smile. " Conas atá tú, a bhuchaill? Tá tú i bhfad ó bhaile anois, nach bhfuil?"
Well, you could have knocked me over with a Ronan O'Gara tackle.
" Tá an nGaeilge agat?" arsa mise.
He nodded.
" Conas?"
" Chuaigh mé ar scoil leis na mBraithire Chríostí. "
" Tá brón orm. " arsa mise, suddenly breaking out in a cold sweat.
" Na bac, fuair me mo n-oideachais, buíochas leo. Tá do chara thuas staighre ag imirt X-box le mo bhean. An bhfaighidh mé é duit?"
" Le do thoil." arsa mise.
He went off, and I remembered Blade, who was standing looking at me, his mouth hanging open.
" Jeez, Luke." He said, " Well done."
"Thanks." I said.
"Tell us, " he went on, "how long you been learning Xhosa ?"

Hunting Keith by Luke

Winning the Heino was obviously fantastic. Yes, I had a bit of a stinker, as my dad was quick to point out in the papers, but we won, and thats the main thing. But now its time to move on to new challenges. Anyway, I was in my room last night, writing a letter to the IRB suggesting a change to the ' taken back inside the 22' rule, when Paulie burst in. I covered up the letter ( I had given up on the letter, to be honest, and was drawing a picture of myself with the cup and Buatoir Corn na hEoraip written above it) and looked up at him.
"Keith's gone." he said." We have to find him. His Ma will kill me."
He looked genuinely scared. Turns out Keith had finished dinner and then vanished. No sign of him anywhere in the hotel. And only four of his Chupa Chup stash were missing, which suggested to Paulie that wherever he'd gone, he didn't think he'd be gone so long. He eats about two an hour if hes let, apparently. Paulie went down to the leisure centre to make sure he hadn't got lost in the steam room again, while I went outside to see if he was in the grounds. No sign of him.
On the way back I thought to ask the door dude.
"Oh yes sir. I saw the young man. He went off to see some ' wild life'. " He siad, winking at me and grinning.
"Wild life? Are the zoos still open this time of night?" I asked.
"Sir is very funny. Let me draw you a map."

I have to go to training now, I'll tell you the rest later.

Truth is Stranger than Fiction by Senor Loco

Senor Loco would just like to point out that he is not ghostwriting Tommy Bowe's Blog, no matter what you might have heard.

"On arrival at the hotel, we were greeted by a traditional South African song and dance performed in front of the hotel - certainly different to the type of moves I would be pulling on the dance floor. My new roommate Mike Blair, or ‘Blade’ as he likes to be known, has been doing his best to copy them in front of the mirror….naked."

Snr. Loco could not make it up.

What I Did on my HOlidays By Keith

Africa is like Kilkee only brown. It is very sunny just like in Kilkee and there are lots of Limerick people here. Well. Paulie and Me. But that is enough.
Like in Kilkee, some parts makes me feel a little homesick for Moyross. Townships they are called here, caravan parks in Kilkee. The townships look like my friend Leons' back garden with the sheds only much bigger and with African people living there.

There are no Lions here only us. No Giraffes or Elephants or Monkeys or nohin'. I asked Paulie and he said the African wild life lives in the countryside, like badgers and cows at home. I think he was pulling my leg because I seen them in my Babar books in the cities. I asked the Door man at the hotel where I could see some real wild life in the town. He smiled and said he was the man to ask. He drew me a map and all and said to ask for Queen Mama when I got there and that I would see some wild things, sure enough. Then he winked at me. I think this is an African thing. I winked at him and I said thank you and put the map in my pocket.

I will go and look for some wild life later.

Tommy Bowe Early Leader in Lions ' Camp ' .

Lions watchers have identified the new game played by the touring party to pass the time at interviews. Sound as camp as possible:

"There are the inevitable ice-breaking questions like 'Are you married?' or 'Do you have a ­girlfriend?' But soon you realise that we are all rugby boys together." -Stephen Ferris

"You have guys standing next to each other who have never played together before but that can press buttons previously not touched, something that is very exciting for the coaches." Ian Mc Geechan

"On the last two Lions tours, all the coaches wanted their pound of flesh and it meant you ended up staying on the training field too long."This time, the mix is better and players are not being flogged at the end of a long season." - Martyn Williams

"I didn't know what to expect, having not been in this situation before, but to see people from all the different countries coming together has been great." - Tommy Bowe

"I've been able to feed off guys like Shane, Lee Byrne and James Hook – they are world-class talents – and it's great for me to be able to train and play alongside these guys. You are always picking up things from them, whether in training or during games." - Tommy Bowe again

My Red Jock Shame by Donners.

Whats apparently red, arrives when it wants and completely fecks ya? The curse. The Munster curse. No laughin' matter, boys.

I am not a superstitious fella, normally. Well, I am, actually. And why wouldn't I be, with what happened to Tomas, and Fla, and of course Quinny. I said it to Paulie and he told me that the only curse I should be worrying about would be the one I'd be screamin' when his foot connected with me arse-bone. He's a bit of a materialist, is Paulie.

I worried away about it for a few days, when I remembered, I was probably immune. I had me own lucky charm, haven't failed me yet. Me red jocks. Normally I put them on before the game, but just in case, I've taken to wearing them all day every day. This means I've had to hand wash them every night before I go to bed and let them dry on the radiator in the bathroom. One night Tommy arrived in lookin' for some of my teabags cause him and Stephen Jones had used up all theirs, even the poncey ones you get in these flash hotels, and he heard me at it. Hammered on the door and told me to stop chokin me chicken. Told the whole team about it too. The rugby men of four nations skittin' at me like children for the last few days.


Now, I wash them every night using a toothbrush.

Tommy's.

Insurance Claim Form

Give a brief description of the accident. If you suffered any injuries as a result of the accident, describe the cause and extent of the injuries:

I was driving home when I hit a Rocky Elsom . My two airbags exploded, the front and rear windows smashed, and my van was a complete write off. He suffered a slightly torn trousers and a bad case of embarrassment. I initally filled my trousers when I saw who it was, he is an Australian man of unusual size, but he said Jeez, sorry about that Mate, must have been daydreamin, eh? and that was that.
Can I claim for my trousers? The dry cleaning bill was horrendous.

If another car was involved in the accident, please detail any damage done ;
N/a

Pre-Match Nerves by Luke

Nah.

Ah to be the Underdog - Text Chain Bod and G Murphy

From Geordan to BOD -
Well done on the semi's. YOu fellas are definitely favourites now.

From BOD to Geordan-
THanks, fella. But lets wait til after the Premiership final, eh. Much Love.

From Bod to Geordan-
Good win over LI. Typical Leicester performance. You fellas have to be favourites for the double. See you in Edinborogh.

Geordan to Bod
Just Lucky, really. You guys will be so well rested. We're wrecked. Really. You fellas are shoo in. We're just hoping to make a game of it.

BOD to Geordan
LOL. Yeah right. See you've got that animal Tuilagi back. We're screwed. Lets face it, concistency not our strength. Just go easy on us, yeah?

Geordan to BOD
Listen, seriously, my parents will be watching. Make it look like a bit of a struggle, then open up at the end. Have to tell you, Tuilagi a bit overrated. Elsom will eat him. Tell the lads they should target him.

Bod to Geordan
You Guys are great, fantastic. Think we may not even bother to show up tomorrow.Elsom taking early flight home due to special offer, along with Wright, Nacema and Checks.

Geordan to BOD
Have made official request that the cup be given to you before the game.

BOD to Geordan
Sleepless night ahead of me. HAve made official request that you be given a bye.

Geordan to Bod
Ahead of you? HAven't slept for days. Nervous wreck. Wife leaving me. Dog died. Can't seem to stop crying. But willing to do my best on the field. Just don't kick me the ball. Have developed phobia of same. You guys odds on to win.

BOd to Geordan
You don't have a dog. Have had one leg amputated, but still going to do my best. But have to say you guys favourites.

Geordan to Bod.
Well, anyway. You guys are definitely favourites.

Bod to Geordan.
Lets agree to disagree.

Geordan to Bod
OK. Hi to the lads.

Geordan to Bod - 4 A.m.
PSYCHE -We're going to kill ye.

BOD To Geordan
Can't sleep either ? See ya tomorrow.

NEW LIONS TRAINING GEAR LAUNCHED

Body Hair Rory Best's Own

The Conversation - By Luke

"Further to that end, the Munster semi-final win has been done and dusted, with all mention of it apparently off limits, even internally." - The Irish Times.

" Dingoes took my babies!" swears Checks from behind a newspaper. " Them fellas have had some foul luck."
"Who's that?" I asked him.
" You know. Them boys in the South."
" Wicklow? Yeah, poor bastards. Bray, eh?"
"What? No, no, errrr, that rugby team."
"Ahhhh ! Clontarf. Yeah, stinker alright. Still, at least they didn't have to have a penalty kick competition, eh?"
"Clontarf is on the northside Luke." He said in a resigned voice.
"Is it? Not Clontarf. Blackrock?"
"When have Blackrock ever had bad luck, Luke? Lucky from the day you're born, you lot. No," He said, leaning in close. "That bunch we don't mention."
"Oh. Right, gotcha." I said, nodding confidently. " Woofters."
"Great Googly Mooglies in Wallahooly, Luke! MUNSTER."
"Oh right. Sorry. What about them?"
"Luke! Don't you read the papers?"
"You told us not to."
"Oh yeah. Well, Flannery's broken his arm."
"Oh no. Shite. What a run. What could it be?"
"I dunno, Luke, its almost......biblical."
We both looked over to the corner of the room.
"What?" Said my Cuz, looking up.
"Nothing, Brian." Says Checks, looking at me significantly. "Nothing."

Clubhouse Hi-jinks by Luke

Had a good laugh at Phil's interview in the Turbine at the weekend. " We all know he had a terrible game but that dosen't mean he lost the game." I mean, ouch. When you bury the hatchet, the burier dosen't normally aim for the buryees spleen. But thats Phil for you. Never would miss out on a chance to draw blood.
Anyway, after training we played a little game in the steam room. Bernard started it.
"Johnny." He said innocently enough. "We all know you have terrible breath, but that dosen't mean you shouldn't breathe."
"Its the protein diet." Johnny said, after we'd all stopped laughing. "You know I have to muscle up. Yes bastards."
"New Zealand." Rocky offered. "We all know they blew the World Cup, but that dosen't mean they're absolute chokers! "
Him and Chris had a good laugh at that one.
"Bernard." Said Johnny, still steaming. " We all know you couldn't hit a barn door with a Sherman tank, but that doesn't mean you're a complete liability to the team."
That one got a groan.
"I just had a problem with my contacts." Bernard said, to no-one in particular.
"Fianna Fail. We all know they don't know anything about economics, but that dosen't mean they completely messed up the economy."
Devin. Always with the smart stuff. Some of the intellectuals raised a titter. A sympathy one.
"Maybe we should stop there." Leo said, the voice of reason.
It was too late. It just popped out.
"Rocky, we all know you had a terrible investment idea, but that doesn't mean you lost all your money."
There was a collective intake of breath. Then everyone moved away from me.
Thank God the steam was thick enough that he missed me in the tackle. I still had to spend an hour hiding under a table in the office with just a towel wrapped around me while he blundered around the place looking for me.
Slagging is a cultural thing, sometimes, I guess.

Magners is Not Cidona bY Keith

I learned two very important things this weekend. It is that Magners is not Cidona no matter what Fla tells you. ANd that if you drink too much of it from the Trophy it makes you vom all over the floor of your bedroom later because the room is spinnin'. And the dogs will come in and lap some of it and they will be drunk too and run all over the house and into the sliding door and your ma will hit you over the head with a sweeping brush calling you a good-for-nothing guttie but you will not feel it til the next day. And the dogs will look at you like you are a right gowl and that their sore heads are your fault.

That is three or four things.

My head still hurts.

At the Movies - by Keith.

I went to Star Trek last night with Fla an' Paulie. I thought it was brilliant ! That Nero fella is a very bad lad who looks a bit like Bernard Jackman but Captain Kirk tackles him in the end.
I had a mini-combo of coke and popcorn. Paulie would not let me have the maxi because he said I would be up all night with the caffeine.
Paulie said he felt that Captain Kirk was not really playing for the team but that there is sometimes room for the individual moment of brilliance, even in the Captains Role. Fla said that he thought the directors mis-en-scene, in the French sense, was a little cluttered, but that this was a failing of every Science Fiction movie of the modern age.
Paulie said that Spock reminded him of Eddie O'Sullivan.
Someone asked us to shut up talkin' during the movie but Paulie looked at them and they left.
When I grow up, I am going to marry Uhuru.

My Holidays - by Quinnie

Thanks for all the support, lads. Big shout out to Leo, Drico, Paulie and everyone else who spoke up for me. I'm going to take a little break now, head over to England to do a bit of manhunting. Did I say manhunting? Hunting, I meant hunting. Manly hunting. Yes, that's what I meant. Hunting, in a manly manner. Like a man.
Heh heh, slip of the tongue, there, is all. There is no need for any increase in security around the offices of Sky Sports Headquarters, or any of their employees. Specifically any employees responsible for the decision to endlessly replay a certain incident from a certain game. Endlessly. Again and again and again and again. Sure weren't they only doing their job? Its not like they had some agenda, now, is it? Nahhhhhh, no agenda at all. Just, doing their job.
I will be as surprised as anyone if something happens to them. Shocked, would be the word for how I will feel. If something unfortunate was to happen to them, like. Which I'm sure it won't. Probably. I mean, who's to say? Accidents happen all the time. Shocking, bloody, accidents. With nails, and, I dunno, metal sheeting of some kind. Electricity. Deadly, so it is. You can drown in two inches of water, I hear. But, really, what are the chances?
Look, let me be clear. They should sleep soundly in their beds. Soundly, verrrry, very soundly. Like babies. Big fat Tom Croft loving babies. And whats wrong with that? Its not a crime is it? Not like, say, hangin' a fella.

Yes, sleep well, Sky Sports.

If ye dare....

I will get OT on Yo' Ass - By Luke

So I called in to Rob's to congratulate him on the call up for Sunday. His garden still looks a bit bare after the locusts, but roses are for girls, really. I reckon a good cobblelocking was in order. Maybe Stephen Ferris could sort him out. Anyway, I was thinkin' it looked like his luck was back.
Then I noticed a plume of smoke rising up from the patio round the back.
Everyone likes a good house fire, I know, but seeing the run of luck the guy's had I decided I'd better pop the head round and see what's what. Not actually tackle the fire, but at least see if An Brogaid Doitean needed to be called.

Turned out it was Roberino, standing over a barbecue.
"Robbieeeee !" I go.
"Luuuuukieee! " he goes, a big grin on him, just like old times. " Step in, my brovvvver!"
" Throw an old prawn on the barbie for me, will ya?" I go, opening the gate.
"No can do, pal o' mine." He goes, fiving me.
"Why not ? Saving it all for yo' mama? She so fat." I says, chuckling.
" Because this is not a barbeque, you Gaelic speaking gobdaw." he says.
"Well it certainly looks like one, you disease ridden poxbag." I go, reaching for a tongs.
He slapped them away from my hand, got serious.
"This is not for us, man. This is for You-Know-Who."
"My Cuz? He's calling over? Wow, duder, you must really be back in with him."
"He's not calling over Luke."

He looked around, leaned in close. "Two words for you, Luke. Burnt."
He looked around again.
"Offerings."
It took me a second.
"You have finally lost it. Burnt offerings, like in the Old Testament. Burning goats to Gods in temples, and all that? Thats completely mental." I told him, genuinely shocked
" Am I back in with him?" he asked.
I had to nod.
" The Old Testament." He grinned, and turned back to it. "It's my new Bible."

Well, whatever it takes to get your confidence back, I guess.

Euro Elections are Confusing by Keith

There was a man outside the grounds this morning looking for my vote in some Euro Elections or something. He shook my hand and gave me a balloon ! ! ! I will get Paulie to breathe in the helium and do his funny voice later. He's brilliant.

I asked the man what party he was with, because that is what my Da does and if he doesn't like them he gets our Jack Russells Jack and Russell to bite them on the ankles. The man smiled and said " I'm with Fianna Fail. "
I said " What?"
He said " Fianna Fail"

I asked him if it was a secret and he laughed. Then he got serious and said, Kind of.

Politics is strange.

Win-Win by Quinny

So I was a little late for training. As I walked into the room Rog was standing by the whiteboard, looking very guilty. The whole room was very quiet, actually.
This was written on the board ;

Guilty - 2/1 on
Guilty, but gets to go to play against the Saffers - 3/1
Leo to drop him in it - 5/1
Leo to offer to have his children - 6/1
Checks, Dumper and Leo to sing a chorus of " We shall overcome " while giving a black power salute and eventually causing the room to be cleared. 20/1
Nigel Owens to be on the Disciplinary Panel. 12/1
Felipe Contempomi to be called as a character witness. 200/1
Innocent of all charges - 50/1

I walked up to ROG.
" 50 to 1 ?" I asked him, hurt.
" Sorry Quinny, " He says, " But I had to get them to lay money on it somehow, shur."
I looked him in the eye and took 100 Euro out of my wallet.
" Innocent, is it?" He said, narrowing his eyes and starting to work out the change in the odds to himself.
" Don't be mad." I said.

Dr Phil - By Luke

After the game, Felipe was about as happy as I've ever seen him without a hunk of bloody, pink meat in front of him. And I don't mean ROG, either, yuk yuk. I mean a raw and bloody steak. The man loves his meat.
I mean, ok, he was crying, but it was crying like Rob cries when The Cuz doesn't actually growl at him in training, ya know? An overwhelming emotion, you'd have to call it. I'd looked up the Spanish on the interweb, got a few pointers.
" Adios, Felipe. " I said to him, giving him a hug.
He froze.
"No Luke, not Adios."
Crap. Bloody Wikipedia. I'd probably insulted his mother or something.
"Adios means goodbye. Lets say, Hasta Luego. See you later."
Then he hugged me again, and limped down the tunnel on his crutches.
Hasta Luego, Dr Phil.

Sad Saturday by Quinny.

I think its fair to say that this week has been pretty tough. I had my consolation prize though. Not that it was easy, mind. I went down to the reception desk in Croker, mainly to get out of the changing room. I've been in more cheerful morgues.( Although I was drunk and naked that time. Hi to the Clanwillan Lads!)
So anyways I'm standing at reception telling the young wan behind the counter that my name was Mr Quiff and I was there to collect a package. She gave me a funny look but handed it over. And then I felt a hand on my shoulder. Alan Gaffney.
"Good'on ya Quinnie!" he goes, "I knew you'd be man enough to come to the Players reception! "
So I did. Me and the entire Leinster set-up. Ever go to a child's birthday party and accidently kill their puppy? Like that, only more awkward.

Anyway, this morning got up nice and early, put the package in the back seat and drove up to The Bull's. It was a big package and all, I reckoned the jersey that was in that would definitely fit one of The Bull's weedier specimens. Thank you very much, Mr Linde.
The Bull was leaning over a gate when I pulled up.
"Got a good one ready for me, Bull? " I said, getting out, " I've got a lot of tension to work off."
Bull nodded and turned around. There was a bullock in the field behind him.
"Nice one Bull. Lets have a look at him."
We both looked at it for a minute. And a minute more. It took me another minute to figure it out.
" Did you put goggles on that Bullock, ya fecker, Bull?"
Long story short, Bull had decided on a new protocol. I let it go. Those Bullocks are like pets to him, really. Until Mart day.
Anyway, I hefted the package out of the bag. Good brown paper, wrapped up with string. Opened it up. Looked at it.
A Munster flag, wrapped around a very large cow pat. And a note.
" Mr Quinlan, Bra. You must think I'm a right mompie altogether, to try and pull this one on me. Buy a Jersey like a normal person, willya? See ya next year."
I sat on my bonnet and sighed. Bull regarded me thoughtfully.
"Beaten off the park, cited, and now out-thought by a saffer, Bull. Does it get any worse than this?"
Bull snorted.
" Next week?" he asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Mouthy bollix, sometimes, is The Bull.

Meeting the Queen by Donners

Alright ? Don't mind tellin' ye lads, I was a bit nervous meeting the queen. Eyes of two nations upon me and all that. We had to meet a protocol director and everything. "Protocol? Toe-to-call is more like it," I says,"what with Darce and his flipflops." The lads cracked up at that. Think they were all a bit nervous.

Anyway, the Protocol lad says as citizens of a Republic we don't have to bow or anything, just greet her as you would any normal vip. Rog got the wrong idea there, I think, but how was the protocol fella to know that Rog is always the I-est P in the room? At least he didn't try and slip his hand down her top.

So we were waiting in Hillsborough for her to arrive. Fancy ol' gaff, like. Makes City Hall look a bit tatty, but then I guess the Brits never burnt it down, did they? I turned around to find someone to share that gem with , but the only fella near me was Rory. Hes no Stephen Ferris, but I decided I'd still best leave it, just in case like. Always the way.
So instead I goes, "C'mere to me, Rory, did you hear about the Dyslexic Agnostic Insomniac Leinster Fan?"
He didn't say anything, just stared right through me.
" He lay awake all night, staring at the ceiling, wondering if there is a DOB."
He didn't even blink. I was wondering if I told it right when this small voice pipes up behind me;
"Well, he won't be wondering after last Saturday, will he, Mr. O'Callaghan?"
Nice ol' doll, the Queen. Sharp, like.

My Fourth Tour Diary Again by Keith

Paulie saw my post that I made about Johnny and said I must not talk about people like that. He said that really he is just a cheeky young pup with the manners of a kerry footballer and that all he needs is to have a few rough edges knocked off him. Rog said he had a baseball bat at home that would do the job. Paulie ignored him. Besides Paulie said that sometime in the future I would be playing in the Irish team and I might have to play with the poopy head. He might be the next Irish no.10. Rog asked if he'd care to lay money on that but Paulie asked him had he forgotten all the trouble in 2007. Rog left after that.

Paulie siad I must be upset because we lost. He said a man must learn to '...meet with triumph and disaster, And treat these two imposters the same'. He said I should think about that. I did and said I would, but that if that imposter Johnny turned up in Moyross, my dad would be givin' him a wiggin'.

A wiggin'

Paulie said that was fair enough.

My Fourth Tour Diary, By Keith

Johnathon Sexton is a big poopy head.

Erc - Internal Memo

Mark, Stuart

Just a couple of issues around the weekend. Getting a lot of blowback in the papers re the penalty shoot-out, so on Monday had a conference call with Phil, Jon, Jean-Paul and a couple of my people to come up with some working suggestions going forward for how we should settle a draw. Obviously penalty countbacks, tries scored etc all came up but we felt from a commercial point of view they lacked pizzazz, and, not to put too fine a point on it, commercial exploitability. So instead here are some of the Suggestions we came up with going forward ;

1. The Penalty Shotgun Shoot-out - Five players to be nominated from each team. Each player to be asked how many cans of H they want. They then take turns to drink this amount in a set period, say two minutes. The crowd to be encouraged to cheer them on, join in, etc, preferably by the zaniest on-field announcer available. They then have to drop-kick the empties from the 22 over the bar, each empty counting for a point. Teams would have to decide on the size of the players, skill at kicking, how many cans to shotgun, and so -on.
Jean Pierre went mad for this because of the physical comedy element, thinks it'd play well in a country that reveres Jerry Lewis as a God. Sponsors a bit lukewarm due to drinking responsibly message they're being forced to put out at the minute. On a more personal note, I think it buys into the finest traditions of stupid rugby-club drinking games, something we have sadly lost sight of in the professional era. Anyway, I'm on for setting up a working group on it, let me know what you think.

2. - The H-Factor - Have you seen the viewing figures for that ugly Scottish bird on the internet? Think we should go for a slice of that. One player each ( the uglier the better, think M Johnson ) to sing for a team of celebrity judges who give their opinion in the most sarcastic vein possible. A public vote to be held on telephone lines open for ten minutes and the winners of this to go through.
One of my lads has already put a call in to Davina Mc Call to announce the verdict, and if we could get Simon Cowell on board we'd be made. Of course, no-one wants to see a professional rugby player cry, but thats a chance we'll have to take. Also, the possibility that players might play for a draw in the hope of launching a singing career would also have to be considered. I'm thinking of a certain T. Bowe here.

3 - The Rolling Mall - Forwards sent into a mock shopping mall to pick the finest yet cheapest outfits possible while Gok Wan shouts unintelligible drivel about bangers at them. On the plus side, should reach out to the pink demographic. On the minus side, needs a little work. It was late when we came up with this one.

Anyway, thats just a few thinking points. I'm open to your input on this one so feel free to kick it around for a day or two with your people, then get back to me. I think Serge might have a bit of a negative view ( surprise ! ) , so lets keep him out of the loop on it for the moment.

Kind Regards.

Derek

After The Game by Luke

Until you've seen Bernard Jackman doing a flamenco dance on top of a table in a Croake Park dressing room while the rest of the team sing 'LA la la , La la la, LAY-DEE BOYS, La la la , La la la, LAY DEE BOYS," to the tune of America from West Side story, you haven't lived. It was so funny I forgot how bad the cramps were.
Felipe was hopping around like a demented Argentinian street-hawker getting everyone to sign a ball he had.
"Is that the game ball?" I asked him when he came to me.
"Si. " He said, grinning. " And I have fifteen more, one for each of us."
Never misses a trick.
Gaffney was asking if anyone else had any questions about his game plan at the top of his voice while Michael was telling Isa that if he played like that in the final he'd see to it that he'd never have to pay for a piece of clothing ever again. Shaggy had just picked up Bernard and was giving him a shoulder ride around the room while Johnny Sex kicked empty water bottles of his dome when the door opened and my Cuz walked in from his interview.
He didn't even raise his voice, but he still cut across all the noise.
"Whats this?" he asked.
All of a sudden the only sound was of Bernie clambering down from Shaggys shoulders just as fast as he could.
He looked around at us with his eyes narrowed.
"We haven't won anything yet." He said. " Have we?"
We all looked at our feet.
" All we've done today today is won a game. One game. One game over them. All we've done today is wiped the smile from their faces and made up for THREE YEARS OF HURT. NO MORE LADYBOYS ! "
"NO MORE LADYBOYS !" That was the chant now. Then everyone was cheering and I was dancing a tango on the table with Jackman as if I'd never had a cramp in my life.
Of course, we fell off when he tried to dip me, but luckily we landed on Rocky so no-one was injured.
And all the while, my Cuz just looked on with a satisfied smile, his arm around Rob as if they were the best of friends.

In my defence , by Quinnie

Lets be honest, lads, it looks bad. But as I explained to Leo at the end of the game, gouging is horrible, only done by, er, gougers, and has no place in the game of rugby, the game that I love. There was no way I was trying to gouge him. I was trying to twist the head off him, maybe drill my fingers into his brain through the auditory canal and lobotomise him, leave him a quivering shell of a man fit only for the retirement home, or the Sky commentary couch.
Nothin' nasty, you know?
And Leo, fair play to him, wished me all the best with the disciplinary panel. Of course, now that I think about it, I hadn't been cited at that stage...

Message from Senor Lococomico

There now follows a brief hiatus for the small matter of THE GREATEST RUGBY MATCH EVER. Til the next one.
See you next week.
Loco.

Paulies Talk - by Keith

Paulie looks around at us.

"Everyone know what they have to do?" He says.

We all nod.

Then we get on the train.

The Speech

Leo gathers all in after training. Just the players and their Masseuses. Massuesi. Massagers. You know what I mean. While we're all getting a rub down he starts reading from a list.

" Lord Wellington.

Oscar Wilde.

Charles Stuart Parnell.

William Butler Yeats.

Jack Butler Yeats.

Bono, the Edge and Larry and... the other guy.

Michael O'Leary, Tony O'Reilly, and Ross O'Carroll Kelly.

What do all these people have in common? "

I was never very good at History, but I do know one thing about Oscar Wilde. Felipe must have been thinking along the same lines.

"Estan maricones, no?" He says, looking confused.

" If that means they are all great men, Felipe, then yes, you're right." Says Leo.

"Errr, I think Maricones means f...." I start to go

" Flippin' great men, that's right, Luke. " says Leo, giving me a glare that shuts me up. " Great men, and great Leinster men. Leaders in their fields be it art, popular music, cut price air travel, or War. And tomorrow, we can join them. We can write our name in the sky higher than any of them, higher even than Michael O'Leary. Do you think its any co-incidence those planes are blue?"

I can see some of the guys nodding.

" It doesn't matter that you weren't born here. It doesn't matter if you don't like Heineken, or want to pay 8 Euro for a sandwich in town, or sit in traffic for 3 hours to get to work. Once you put on the blue, you're Leinster. You're tapping into a history that goes back at least 300 years, to the time of the Pale. A time when everyone hated us, when we stood together against the hordes who would destroy us. The ancestors of the very same people who are shambling onto trains, planes and luxury four by fours with actual mud on them, to come up here and try and destroy us again. Destroy us like they destroyed poor Oscar Wilde, that brave Leinster Hero, because he dared to be flamboyant, to play the game his way, at his pace. Will we let them destroy us, lads? "

"NO !" we all shout as one.

" We're going to play it tomorrow like Oscar would have wanted it lads. With style, with panache, and if necessary, up close and personal and IN THEIR FACE."

" YES !" we shout now.

" For Oscar, and, FOR LEINSTER ! " he goes, pumping his fist in the air.

" LEINSTER LEINSTER LEINSTER !" we're all giving it now.

" VIVA LOS MARICONES !" Shouts Phil, and we all go even crazier.

Bring. It. On.

Plan C - Surveillance Recording

-Hello?

-Hello. Can I speak to CJ Van Der Linde

-Speaking, bra. Ken I hilp you?

-Errr, yes, Mr Linde. My name is Alan Qu...., er Quiff, Alan Quiff. I'm calling for a charity down here in Limerick called, errr, Shams Without Shoes.

-Izzit ?! You've got scrompies down there withoet shoes, bra? I mean, the guys on the team told me stories, but I thought they wuz having a laugh, hey? Angelas Ashes vibe !

- Ah, no, no, they weren't. Plenty of us without shoes. Plennnty. So the thing is, we were thinking of holding a fund-raising raffle to, you know, buy some tackies, like, and we were wondering if you'd like to donate a jersey for it?

- No problem , bra. Hows about the one I wear on Saturday? Ought to be worth some money after we klap the kak out of your lot, eh? Eh?

- Heh. Well, given the , ah, sensitivities of the situation, we were thinking maybe one of your old Springbok jerseys might be better down here, you know ? A lot of people have Leinster jerseys since 2006, like, anyway. People were throwing them off before the game was over. Shame, I guess. Eh?

- Ah right. Wouldn't know about that, bra, before my time. Well, anyway, no problem Mr Quiff. I've got a few in the ol' suitcase, ja? Where should I send it to?

- Errr, I wouldn't want you to be out of pocket on the postage. Sure, why don't you bring it to the game on Saturday and I'll have someone collect it.

- That'd be lekker, bra, lekker. I'll have it there for them. Just ask at reception before the game.

- Thanks a million, Mr Linde. The shoeless shams of Limerick salute you !

- You're welcome bra. Glad I ken hilp.

- Goodbye.

- Laters.

*RECORDING ENDS *

Quinnie and Me by Keith

I did some special drills with Quinnie today. First we did The Respectful Nod. I pretended I was the Ref first of all, and he showed me how to do it. Then we switched.

" I've warned you about that. " he said. He was talking like my old headmaster. "Once more and I'm going to the pocket. "

" Yes Ref ! Sorry ! "
"Good, Keith, good. If you want to you can lay a manful hand on his shoulder, you can do that. Don't overplay it though. "
" Yes Quinny."
" Maybe just stick to the Rueful Smile and shake of the head, for now, anyway."
"Yes Quinny."

We went on to the Who me? What? Drill

"Ok, so what do we think about ? " Quinnie asked.
" The time Johnny Daly told the teacher I farted even though he did."
" Thats right. Ready? Hands off red! Hands OFF, RED ! "
I pointed at meself .
" Who? Me?"
"Good, good. Only this time, don't say it, just think it, OK? "
"Yes Quinny."
"Again !"

Finally we did the Didja See That, Didya? drill.

"Ok, so where do we position ourselves?"
" In the sightline of a referee or other official, Quinnie. "
" And..."
"And exagerate any contact."
"Good. And do not..."
"Do not point or otherwise seem to look for a penalty. "
"Excellent. Although with time, you can make a judgement call on that, like I did with Pelous last year."
" Yes Quinny."
" Ok, I'll brush you with my shoulder, and you fall over. Ready? Annnnnd, go."
I fell over and pretended I was dead for a second.
" Was that okay, Quinnie?"
"Perfect, Keith, perfect. We'll practice your 'Wha' happened?' look tomorrow."
"Thank you Quinnie."
"Any time, Keith. It is my duty to pass on the fruits of my experience to the younger generation. Some day you will pass these secrets on too."

When I am big, I want to be Quinnie.

Team Meeting Coolness by Luke

I have to say, there isn't a lot of signs of nervousness among the guys. This morning we had a meeting in the players lounge. Devin was playing to a few of the guys on the grand piano. Something classical. He was telling Leo it was for Elise. I said I knew a girl named Elise from Foxrock, was that her? 'For Elise, by Beethoven', he said. I grinned like I'd been joking. I think he bought it.

My Cuz was sitting listening to his ipod. I could hear it was the soundtrack to 'The Omen.' He loves that. Hates to be disturbed though, when he's listening to it.

I moved on to Rocky, who was sitting in one of the leather backed armchairs by the fire with a glass of brandy, having a read of the property pages of last weeks Irish Times.
"Luke, " he said to me. " Its time to get my feet wet again, I think. How much lower can it go, seriously? How far away is Roscommon, I mean really, how far? At home, it'd be a suburb."
I took the newspaper off him.
"Roscommon is like the outback, Rocky. Only not as hospitable. Remind me again while you're here, and not sunning yourself on Bondi Beach?"
"You're right, you're right " He sighed and nodded, disappointed, picked up the motoring section instead. It was harsh, but it had to be said. I left him to it, giving the newspaper to one of the butlers to destroy.

By the espresso bar, CJ had taken off his shoe and sock, and Felipe was holding a stethoscope to it, nodding all serious like while CJ told him he thought it felt much better.
"Si." He said eventually. " Keep the weight off it and watch out for Quinlan at the weekend."
I caught his eye and he came over to me while CJ tied his lace.
" It make him feel better." He said, looking a little embarrassed. "I tell him I hear the healing."
"Will he be ok for Saturday?"
"Madre de Dios, how should I know?" He asked me "Do I look like a chiropodist?"
He went to get a coffee before I could figure out what to say to that.

Michael Cheika caught my arm then and pulled me away, said he had something important to ask me about. He took me into the atrium.
"Luke, I need your opinion on something." He said. " This is very important so I want you to be totally honest with me."
I knew it. Fullback. Sorry, Rob, but every cloud. I was getting ready to tell him that I was so up for it when he turned around and lifted his jacket.
" What do you think of these jeans ?" he goes. " They're by Desigual. Thinking of getting distribution rights? Not too girlie, are they?"
I stare at his arse.
"No." I said quietly. " I like them. Especially the embroidery."
" Great." He said, making a note in his filo-fax. "Thanks man, I knew I could rely on you. Lets go back in. Alan's about to start."

The Gaffney was standing by a whiteboard. Michael joined him, checked he was ready. Then he tinked on a champagne flute with his pen to get everyone's attention.
"Right guys." He says. " I think we all know we're up against it this Saturday but I'm here to tell you that we've identified a serious weakness we can exploit in their set-up. Alan."
Everyone leaned forward. This was it, the key to finally beating them.
" Three words for you boys. " He turned to the board and started writing. "Target. O. Gara. "

Everyone sat back again.

And sighed.

Minutes

Chair - Comrades! Thank you for coming along, Comrade P, Comrade X, Comrade Y and, errr, welcome Comrade K to your first party meeting. Now, our first order of business
the recent visit of Comrade P to the so called Aras of the so called Uachtarain.

Comrade P - Thanks. As you know, lads, I undertook to travel to the lair of the capitalist oppressors, Dublin, in order to try and convince Martin Mc Aleese to use his influence with Unionists to overthrow the sectarian D'Hondt system of ministerial allocation as this is preventing the proper formation of class conciousness among the fine working class men and women of the North....

Comrade K - Can I get a quarter pounder, Paulie?

Comrade P - In a minute, Comrade. I managed to get Mr Mc Aleese isolated in a corner and proceeded to give him a detailed Marxist analysis of the failures of the Northern Executive.

Comrade X - How did he take it?

Comrade P - His eyes glazed over but he had not reached the drooling stage before we were interrupted by the President. In order to maintain my cover I had to revert to sterotypical behaviour. I told her 'Yer husband is some man for one man. What a load of balls, like.'.

Comrade Y - How did she take it ?

Comrade P. - Her eyes glazed over, but she didn't drool.

Comrade K - Can I get the happy meal, Paulie?

Comrade P - In a minute. I then moved into the realm of analogy, pointing out the sitaution in the North would be like allocating places on the Munster team by size of club. Under D'Hondt, as a Young Munster Man, I might not even make the team.

Chair - Good one, Comrade P. But lets remember we are all party men first and foremost.

Comrade X - Hear Hear, Chair. As a Shannon man myself, I never put the fact that we deservedly whipped Garryowen last week above my loyalty to the party.

Comrade Y - I admit to no superior in my loyalty to the party, but I would like to point out that the game was played in a gale which constantly blew in the faces of the Garryowen men, and this was the deciding factor in the ultimate result. And if its whippins we're talkin' about, wasn't 25 points last year a proper whippin' ?

Comrade X - Running DOG !

Comrade Y - SPLITTIST !

Chair - ORDER ! ORDER !

Security Guard - Lads, I'm afraid I'll have to ask the five of ye to leave. Ye're disturbing the other customers.

Comrade K- Can I get my happy meal to go then, Paulie?

Comrade X - ' THERE IS AN ISLE...."

Comrade P - *Sigh*. Yes Keith.

Fresh Meat by Quinny

Har Har. Yer a right funny bunch altogether. No, I wasn't in Ballinrobe, and no, that's not myself showin' a fair turn of speed in the black cap.
If anyone has that farmer's phone number, though, I'd like to make him an offer for the bull. Lively fella, isn't he?

The Mumps

So called over to Rob's house with a bottle of 7up and a box of roses. He was lying in his bedroom with the curtains drawn.
"Luke? Is that you, Luke?"
He couldn't recognise me because of the surgical mask, ya know? No need to take any chances.
"Hey Robbo, how you doin' ?"
" How do you think I'm doin'? I can't move me neck, me jaws kiling me, me nads are swollen and I'm completely dehydrated."
" Just like playing Munster, then?"
He didn't see the funny side.
"I thought your plums didn't swell until a few days after the primary infection, if then?" I asked.
He looked at me.
" I may have had a chat with Dr. Phil before I came over." I admitted.
"Hmm. Anyway, that may be true of normal mumps but I seem to have primary and secondary symptoms all at the same time."
I could see where this was going.
" Is that your new Audi out the front ?" I asked, trying to change the subject.
"All at the same time, Luke ! I'm cursed, is what it is, cursed!"
"Don't be stupid. You've just been unlucky, is all."
I decided that this had gone on long enough.
"Rob." I told him, " This has to stop. He's only human."
"No, no. " he said, forgetting for a moment and trying to shake his head. It was funny, but this was a team-mate in trouble.
So I told him a few home truths. I spoke about the lack of a schools rugby medal. I made him admit that he had thought that maybe, just maybe, the Cuz had been carrying a bit of weight last season. Finally, I showed him that old O2 Ad (I have it stored on my ipod) several times. Even he had to smile.
By the time I left he was feeling better. It's good to do something nice for the afflicted. No wonder Dr. Phil is a Dr.
I stopped to admire the new Audi in the drive on the way back to my car. Then the skies darkened, and a loud buzzing noise filled the air.
As I drove away, a swarm of locusts was stripping the paint off it.

Unlucky, that's all.

Keiths Tour Diary

It did not feel like we had won the game.

Most days we are players who suffer for the team.

Last night we were a team who were suffering for a player.

Get better soon, Tomas.

MESSAGE FROM HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED

THIS SIGHT PLEASETH ME NOT.
I DECLARE IT AN ABOMINATION ONTO MY PEOPLE.
THAT IS ALL.

My Third Tour Diary, By Keith

This morning Paulie showed me a picture of himself with some oompah loompahs ! ! !

I did not believe him at first because they are not blue. But he told me that they only turn blue around chocolate. Paulie knows everything! The Oompah on the right looks very grumpy.

Fla asked Paulie why he did not wear a suit for the press conference. Paul said that suits were the costume of the bourgoisie oppressors and he would not stain the memory of the proud men of the Limerick Soviet by wearing one. Micko asked him if he kept the tackies and Paulie said Of course ! because if property is theft therefore theft is property and he would like to see them try and take them back off him.

I asked him if the Bourgoisie Oppressors were the same as the IRFU oppressors what kept proud Munster men down for so long. He told me that that was a good Marxian insight and ruffled my hair and said that if I kept it up he would bring me to a party meeting ! ! !
I hope it is in Mc Donalds because partys there are only brilliant !!!

Paulie is my Best Friend.

Quinnys Tour Blog

So I figured out a solution to the whole bullock / jersey issue. Called back to The Bull's.
"Listen Bull.' says I, getting straight down to it. " Had an idea. You know the way people paint their sheep in their county colours when they get to the finals?"
Bull looked up from stroking the bullock that was curled-up in his lap. He considered it for a second, shook his head.
Back to the drawing board.

Legal Correspondance

Dear Sir/Madam,
I have been instructed to write to you on behalf of Rob K<Name Deleted>. He asked me to clarify that his relationship with You-Know-Who is a friendly one based on mutual respect and professional regard, and not based on gibbering, animal terror, as implied by the recent posting of Luke F<Name Deleted>.
My client further asked me to take the opportunity to point out that although he was present when 'The Proposal' took place ( his job was to release the turtle doves at the appropriate juncture), he had no hand, act or part in the subsequent revelations made to the press, to whit and viz;

That flower petals were used to spell out ' YOU WILL MARRY ME' on the lucky lady's lawn.

My client points out that he is from Dundalk, and has never spoken to a journalist in his life without a translator present.
My client now wishes to draw a line under this whole affair and move forward.
Yours Sincerely,

Rodney Du Pris, S.C.

P.S. - On a personal note, any chance of a ticket for Croker? Due to an amusing little misunderstanding, I attempted to book 600 tickets on the day, and although the boys in Donnybrook are sympathetic, their hands are tied. Keep me in mind, anyway.
Toodles, Rod.

My Second Lions Tour Diary by Keith

I got home and told Mam I was going to Africa to play with De Lyons. She went mad ! saying that Africa is full of diseases and that I would come home looking like the Elephant Man. I said I did not know who it was and she showed me a picture of him. This is the picture.



She made me look at it until I promised that I would not go to Africa. When I stopped crying she told me that I was her special fella and she gave me 20 Euro to get two fish and chips in Donkey Ford's. I had a strawberry and cream chupa chup for desert. My favourite!
But I am worried what Paulie will say when he hears.

My Lions Tour by Quinny

I was up on the The Bulls farm when I got the phonecall. What I like to do in the few weeks before any Leinster game is head up there and pick out a particularly game young bullock. The Bull puts a blue no.10 jersey on it for me that I had specially made in Hong Kong a while back. (You should see him rubbing them on the tummy when he has them upside down by the four legs. They love it.) Then I'll spend a few hours in the back field with it, twisting an ol' ear here, fingers in the nostrils there, 'til its good an' het up. Its just a bit of fun, like. They enjoy the excercise.
Anyway, I was practising my Spanish on the bullock, whispering in its ear, like, ( did you know that De Puta Madre means cool in Spanish, while Tu Puta Madre means something else entirely? Amazing what you learn as a professional.) when the phone rang. I had the bullock pinned so I answered it. Turned out it was Warden Gateland, offerin' me a place on the Lions. I thought it was Donners taking the piss, and told him if it was I'd cut off a finger for every minute of my time he'd wasted, but in the end he convinced me.
So anyway when I finished The Bull was looking over the gate at me. He'd heard me thanking Warden and asking if anyone else from Munster was going. He cocked his head, and I shook mine, regretfully. He didnt say anthing, just sighed and turned away, a bullock under each oxter. I could tell he was hurting, but I had my own problems.
Does anyone know where I can find a Saffer jersey big enough for a bullock?

OMG ! OMG! by Luke

Dude. Was toolin round the green, ya?, when his Bodness manifested via the mobile. 'Cuz !' I said, turning down Elbow and waving at some chick while adjusting the hairdo. He told me to shut the fu*k up. Its a thing we do, ya know? We're like that, really.
"Listen." He goes. "You're a Lion. Don't think it means anything, cos it doesn't."
I nod, smile and give him an old thumbs up, forgetting I'm on the phone, ya? But He knows. He always knows.
"Rob is with you, isn't he?" He says then. The K-man is sitting next to me, but he's drawing his finger across his throat and shaking his head and the sweat is running off him. Its disgusting, really, but he's always like that about the Bodster. I'm just considering whether to risk a lie when the Voice comes down.
"Tell that little pissant he's made it too, and that I KNOW WHAT HE DID."
Rob can hear the last bit, and he goes green and a little whimper escapes him, the woofter. I decide to try and head this off at the pass.
" Thanks for the news, Cuz." I said. " Grand Slam winning Captain, and now captaining the Lions too, eh? You must be soooooo stoked!"
There's a click on the end of the line, and a distant rumble of thunder. Rob gets out of the car and starts running. As if that would help.

My First Lions Tour Diary, by Keith

Tony called me to the office today to tell me I am on a team called De Lyons. I told him I was very happy and that I loved their tea. He gave me a Funny Look. He told me they wear red, so I guess they must be OK. He told me I must not lose my Focus for the remaining games in the Heineken Cup. I told him I do not have a Focus, I has a Starlet. He gave me another Funny Look.

Later, Quinnie told me there will be some fellas from outside Munster on the team who are not from New Zealand or wherever Mafi comes from. Quinnie told me not to speak to the Leinster boys, as they were a bad lot who might 'Give me ideas' and that I might 'Get above myself'. Spent the rest of the day trying to stay under myself. This is not easy.