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.