"The lads done superb. They hassled and harried the French and, though the pay-off's not come, they can be proud of a lion-hearted performance." Johnny Football Pundit.
Yeah it was good stuff alright, we beat the French 0-0 and Germany, for me, beckons. Not to hyperbolise, but with the likes of John O'Shea and Steven Finnan in our team I can't see us getting beat. Or even beaten.
I watched the match in the cosy surrounds of Owen and Emma's Phibsborough flat. We resisted the temptation to watch it with the baying hordes and instead let the mini-fridge master us for the afternoon. Twas cheap and sweet. Oh, and let me recommend Domino's new Indonesian skewers. Mui bueno.
Friday was more of the more. Was spreadeagled on the couch circa 2.30 in the pm, lamenting the demise of Kilroy, when in burst a thirst-riddled John Boy.
"We need to get drunk immediately!"
I sensed the urgency in his voice and decided not to quibble. One quick spray-spray later and we were in The Penny Hill, setting the world to rights and letting lady liquor work her majesty. WMDs, the plight of Palestine, economic disparities and oil...Absolutely all of the above were decidedly off the agenda.
One journey through the by-roads and leafy lanes of West Dublin later and we were back on the couch, setting the world to rights and letting lady liquor work her majesty...
You know that kind of way?