Ross O'Carroll-Kelly

The old man tells Hennessy that he has every faith in him. Hennessy’s like, “Wait a minute, what?” Yeah, no, we’re sitting in the District Court in Bray, waiting for Bernie’s case to be called. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

“So, anyway, I tee’d off,” the old man goes, loving the sound of his own voice, “and of course I managed to slice the bloody-well ball and, well, naturally enough, it ended up in the lake!” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

JP looks well – even though I don’t know what to call him any more? I’m like, “So how are things – I don’t know – Father?” He actually laughs at that? He’s there, “Ross, you don’t have to call me Father.” I’m like, “What do I call you then?” because it’s my first time seeing the dude since he finished his studies to become an actual priest. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

I think I’m on the record as saying that being a parent is one of those things that I just happen to be very, very good at without having to put any actual effort into it. Even allowing for that, at the end of a long, hot summer, just like the rest of you, I’m absolutely sick of the sight of my children and I’m glad they’re now someone else’s problem until the end of October. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Hennessy is grinning like a dog trying to pass a laundry ball through its urinary tract. Yeah, no, for five days now, me and Bernie from Bray of all places have been – in fairness – texting each other, and the dude is reading through the exchanges, some of which are pretty, it might be a word, explicit? Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Hennessy actually laughs when he sees me sitting at the bor with a pint of the old Dutch medicine in front of me. He’s like, “What the hell are you doing here?” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Everybody knows about the Dalkey Lobster Festival. It’s coming up in, like, two weeks’ time, and Sorcha is already practising her walk and wave for the Parade of Lobster Queens Past, wearing the sash and crown that she’s held onto ever since her victory in 2008, at the stort of the crash, on a platform of, I want to say, hope? Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

All of Ronan’s old mates are there. We’re talking Buckets of Blood. We’re talking Stacks of Money. We’re talking Nudger. We’re talking Gull. It’s actually Stacks of Money who sidles up to me as I’m watching Ronan across the room, chatting to Paul Reynolds from RTÉ. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The old man looks wretched. I say it to him as well. I’m like, “You look focking wretched – worse than usual" Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

“The fock is going on here?” I go. Because – yeah, no – I’ve arrived home to find my wife, my four sons and my in-laws sitting in front of the TV watching, quite literally, a soccer match? My reaction is basically the same as it would be if I arrived home to find Sorcha in bed with Russell Crowe. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So me and Ronan swing out to – believe it or not – Bray, just to see how my old man is getting on. I’ve a bet with him that he won’t last the summer living out there and I like to check on my investment from time to time. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

I absolutely despise Christian’s wife, Lauren. I say it as well. Not to her face obviously. Sorcha goes, “Ross, you shouldn’t despise anyone.” This coming from the girl who refuses to watch anything with Jake Gyllenhaal in it because he broke Taylor Swift’s hort a life sentence ago. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So the latest “thing” in our house is the Swedish death clean. For those of you who aren’t married to Sorcha Lalor, this is a decluttering method that’s meant to spare your loved ones the trouble of sorting through your shit after you’ve dropped the mic. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The old man says he thinks he might not live long enough to see Leinster win the European Cup again. I tell him I’m only 46 years old and I’m storting to feel the same way. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Sorcha says she’s – oh my God – so excited about Saturday and I tell her I am too. She goes, “These are the moments, aren’t they?” Which is random because she’s hasn’t shown the slightest flicker of interest in rugby since she thought Rob Kearney gave her a smile and a wave at Taste of Dublin the year before the pandemic and I didn’t have the hort to tell her that he was smiling and waving at me. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So what do you think? Yeah, no, Nicola – as in, like, Honor’s girlfriend – is showing me a watch that she bought from, like, Tiffany of all places? It must be, like, a grand’s worth. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The old man asks me if I’ve been boning up on my Spanish ahead of the trip to Bilbao. I’m like, “Is that where Bilbao is? In Spain?” I honestly think I learned more from rugby than I ever did at school. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So I’m in the gym and I’m bench-pressing, I don’t know, something ridiculous, when all of a sudden there’s someone standing over me and – yeah, no – they’re, like, talking to me? I take out the old AirPods and sit up and it ends up being Nicola, as in, like, Honor’s new – in fairness – girlfriend. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The old man is sitting in the corner of what was once Shanahan’s on the Green, sucking on a Cohiba the size of a Daihatsu exhaust. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Sorcha asks me how I’m feeling and I tell her I’m in scintillating form – especially after the win over Sale yesterday. I’m half-thinking of doing my joke about having a semi to look forward to – but then I think better of it. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

“Come in,” she goes. This is Bernie I’m quoting – word for word, by the way – as in, like, Bernie the mother of Claire from, like, Bray of all places? Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

“Stop!” Sorcha goes. Yeah, no, we’re driving through Donnybrook at the time. I generally slow down anyway as we’re passing the spot where Kielys once stood, just to make the sign of the cross on myself. Except Sorcha is looking past me at the other side of the road? Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The airport is absolutely rammers and I’m in – it has to be said – scintillating form, so much so that Sorcha actually remorks on it. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this is actually happening? Yeah, no, you always try to think about worst case scenarios in your head – just so you have a plan in case something goes wrong – but this is beyond my, literally, worst nightmares. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This is me in my – yeah, no – absolute happy place. Castlerock College jersey with the collar popped. Rugby Tactics Book under my orm. The match against Blackrock College is just four days away and I have a plan to beat them. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So it’s, like, 11 o’clock on Sunday morning and I’m hord at work – albeit still in bed – making notes in my famous Rugby Tactics Book. Sorcha walks into the room and goes, “Get dressed, Ross. We’re going out for lunch.” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

“Kicker!” the old man has the actual nerve to go. “To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Sorcha says this is the worst thing I’ve ever done. And it’s far from it. I could give her a list of 50 things, except I doubt if it would help my cause. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

There’s no sugar-coating this one. We’ve been taken to the literally cleaners today. Yeah, no, beaten 45-10 by – and there’s easy way of saying this – Wesley College, the same Wesley College who haven’t won a Leinster Schools Senior Cup since the world was in pretty much black and white. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

I’m like, “A what?” And Honor goes, “A double date. It’s cute.” I’m there, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Claire from Bray of all places–” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Joy Felton – yeah, no, one of our neighbours – is standing at the front gates as I swing the cor into the driveway and she nearly ends up with the BMW logo imprinted backwards across her, I want to say, midriff? Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

A Prius pulls up at the next pump, just as I’m imagining what topics my pep talk would touch on, and suddenly I hear the driver say my name. She’s like, “Ross!” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So – yeah, no – I’m in the staffroom and I’m chatting to one or two teachers about the Leinster match against La Rochelle: Miss Casey, who teaches something-or-other, and Miss Nealon, who teaches, I don’t know, something else. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

I’m packing away the last of the Christmas bits and – yeah, no – I’m throwing out the Advent calendar that someone sent me obviously as a joke. It’s a Blackrock College Advent calendar – which is the same as a regular Advent calendar, except that your daddy opens all of the doors for you! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

“Okay,” I go, “today we’re going to work on one or two moves from this sacred text,” and I show the players my famous Rugby Tactics Book. There are no gasps from the kids, even though there are a lot of rugby coaches out there who would kill to get their hands on it. Yeah, no, they all just roll their eyes, probably pissed off at being asked to train in Herbert Pork on New Year’s Day.... irishtimes.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Sorcha’s old dear has a scream on her like Wayne Bornes’s whistle. Sorcha’s old man is like, “What in the name of God?” and we all rush into the living room – we’re talking me, Sorcha and, like I said, her old man – to see her standing there with the famous Elf on the Shelf in her hand. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

“Mee, meh, mah, moh, moo,” Sorcha goes – and not for the first time since we left Dublin. “Mee, meh, mah, moh, moo.” And I’m there, “Don’t worry – I’ll, em, let you know when that gets annoying.” She goes, “I’m doing my vocal exercises, Ross. This is a huge night for us.” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The old man says he doesn’t think he’ll bother with Christmas this year – “what with everything”. By which he means, what with it being the first one since the old dear – yeah, no – pegged it. Sorcha goes, “Oh my God, Chorles, Fionnuala was such a Christmas person. She’d want you to celebrate it.” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Sorcha is in her – literally? – element. She goes, “This is gorgeous, isn’t it?” This being the humungous Christmas morket in – believe it or not – Belfast. Honor’s there, “I still don’t understand what we’re even doing here?” And Sorcha’s like, “Honor, we may end up living in a united Ireland one day. And what do we know about our brothers and sisters from the North?” “They’re very angry,” Johnny goes. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Ronan shows up at the front door wearing a Santa hat and a big smile. I’m there, “What are you, drunk?” because I’m aware that the Ireland soccer team had some kind of result at the weekend. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Things have been a bit – yeah, no – strained between Christian and me ever since he got back with his ex-wife, Lauren. I told him straight out that he was Hertz Car Rental even thinking about going there again. But he asked her to marry him irregordless and then, in the first flush of their rediscovered love, she asked him – “tell me honestly, I won’t be angry” – what his friends thought of them getting hitched again and the dude snitched on me like a parrot with a megaphone. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The front door slams and the entire orangerie – built without planning permission at the height of the Celtic Tiger – shakes to its foundations. Sorcha’s eyes meet mine. Ten seconds later we hear Honor’s bedroom door slam too and we both silently wonder whether the structure will stay standing for what’s left of our daughter’s teenage years. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The room is absolutely rammers and I’m listening outside the door as various randomers talk s, h, one, t, about me and my famous coaching methods. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

There’s a meeting. That’s the big news of the day. I’m like, “What kind of a meeting?” And Fionn goes, “Ross, you’re not invited.” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

“Here, Rosser,” Ronan goes, pouring me a lorge glass of red, “get yisser laughing gear around that.” Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.