Was out with a really fun Irish guy called Brian the other day from the K Club in Dublin who had just got back from Lyon watching the footy. He had never been across here before and had indeed had to turn down a game on the Old only a few weeks ago as he had work commitments. But here he was now and what a fun guy. You know the sort of Irishman who has that twinkle in his eye and a very quick sense of humour.
We shared our stories of Marbella as he used to have apartments there and it was a place where I worked one summer as an Animateur du Golf for Club Med. Somehow trying to teach, mostly women, to play golf in French. So if you do come across any French ladies with weird and wonderful swings then mention Marbella. I have a slight conscience about that.
I recalled my story of how I’d been to the rugby once in Dublin and managed to consume 24 pints of Guinness and meet the most pretty Irish lass called Maraid. I recounted how I fell badly for her but didn’t manage to get her phone number on the Saturday evening. So I desperately called up the local radio station on the Monday morning and, to my surprise, was put immediately on air to describe my plight.
‘Hi we have got Keith from Edinburgh here? said the announcer who immediately claimed that I didn’t sound Scottish which I don’t. He then asked me to describe Maraid and I said that she was ‘very pretty, had mousy brown hair and a lisp’.
´Oh’ said the guy ‘and anything else?’
‘well she had a six pack…’ I said, and then I immediately heard the announcer shout ‘CUT !!’ and I was no longer on air. Of course, I only knew she had a six pack because she told me that, and I was just about to try a wee bit of humour by adding ‘of Guinness on her’ but alas. Or to be more accurate- no lass!
My vital opportunity on air was suddenly curtailed, my attempt at live wit undermined and the end of a story about a very lucky escape for a young lady called Maraid.
Anyway, Brian laughed at my wee anecdote and I think he liked my enterprising attempt to find love and was surprised, even for a seasoned Irishman, at my ability to knock back the local stout.
Alas, these days are over.
And alas things are never perfect in life either. Although this round with Brian was certainly one of the best and most enjoyable caddying rounds I have ever done, you can understand how I was a bit dismayed when one of our caddies, who had my chap Brian the next day, said to me that I had talked ‘a pile of crap’ to him!
Hmm. Very interesting theory and statement from a caddie who doesn’t really know me and certainly doesn’t know my past.
The ‘pile of crap’ is now a mystery to me as I asked the said caddie to expand upon these, let’s say, inflammatory words, and funnily he walked away and said arrogantly ‘ I have bigger fish to fry’.
Well my word of advice to him would only be that maybe he should stick to frying the bigger fish.