“So this dude here,” Oisinn goes – and he means me, “he tucks the ball under his orm, beats five players and crosses the try-line under the posts. But he doesn’t ground the ball there. No, he puts it down in the corner to make the conversion horder for himself.”
Brett, my brother slash half-brother, just shakes his head in – I’m going to use the word – awe? Yeah, no, we’re in The Bridge 1859 and the dude made the mistake of asking the goys what I was like when I was younger.
JP’s there, “And then, of course, he nails the kick, runs to the crowd – who’ve been on his back all afternoon, bear in mind – whips off his jersey and he storts fingering his abs like they’re accordion keys, shouting, WHO DA MAN?”
I’m like, “I was a definite showman – in fairness to me.”
‘We’ve been through so much. I slept with two of JP’s ex-girlfriends, and Christian’s actual mother and even that didn’t break us up’
Honor goes, ‘People will talk about my speech for years to come. And that’s just in the libel courts’
Ross O’Carroll-Kelly: ‘My old dear doesn’t have the embarrassment gene. It’s a South Dublin thing’
Honor is staring at Brett like he’s an ATM and she’s sitting in a JCB, trying to work the levers
“And then to cap it all,” Christian goes, “he ends up scoring the girlfriend of the other team’s captain.”
Brett actually claps. I think he’s a bit jorred. He goes, “You guys are awesome. I’m noticing that a lot of your stories end with you scoring the girlfriend of the other team’s captain.”
I just shrug – as cool as a blind man’s dog.
I’m there, “It’s just how it was, Dude.”
Fionn goes, “Did you play sport yourself, Brett?”
Brett’s like, “No, nothing. I wish I had now. You guys sound like you had some amazing times. And you’re still so close–”
I’m there, “Best mates.”
He’s like, “–all these years later.”
“It’s a bond that will never be broken,” I go. “We’ve been through so much together. For instance, I slept with two of JP’s ex-girlfriends, two of Oisinn’s, three of Fionn’s as well as his sister, and Christian’s actual mother and even that didn’t break us up. One word, Brett: rugby.”
He goes, “Well, listening to your stories for the last two hours, I feel like I’ve wasted my life.”
Christian’s there, “I’d hordly say you wasted it. You’ve got a beautiful wife and two great kids,” attempting to put a positive spin on it and failing miserably, “an incredible house, a successful business.”
Brett goes, “I guess you’re right,” except he knows how hollow it all sounds.
“Hang on,” JP goes, “which two exes of mine were you with?”
I’m there, “Issy O’Brien.”
He’s like, “I knew about Issy.”
I’m there, “And Carolyn Loeb.”
He goes, “You were with Carolyn?” because it’s obviously news to him. “As in, like, with with?”
I’m there, “It was the week you took your old dear to Medjugorje with your SSIA money.”
He goes, “I can’t believe you were with Carolyn.”
And I’m there, “Rugby, Dude.”
Brett goes, “So do you guys want another drink?”
I’m like, “Another one?” hating myself for sounding like his – yeah, no – mother. “Fionn just bought a round.”
He shows me his empty glass and goes, “Well, I’m all out.”
We’ve basically nothing in common except the old dear. And she’s worried, by the way, that I’m going to corrupt him
He can certainly put away the drink – he inherited that much from the woman.
I’m there, “I think we’re all good for the moment, Dude.”
And he goes, “Well, I’m going to go get another one.”
He sounds a bit mashed.
When he’s gone, Oisinn asks me what it’s like having an – all of a sudden – brother that I never knew about.
I’m there, “It’s still a bit random. We’ve basically nothing in common except the old dear. And she’s worried, by the way, that I’m going to corrupt him.”
Christian goes, “Corrupt him?”
I’m like, “Yeah, no, she keeps telling him to go home to the States. She’s convinced I’m going to lead him astray. It’s a good job I’m not sensitive.”
Oisinn goes, “He can certainly drink.”
And I’m there, “Yeah, it’s funny how the gene skipped me.”
No one comments on this either way.
JP goes, “I can’t believe you were with Carolyn Loeb.”
I’m there, “Dude, you’re going to have to let it go.”
Christian’s like, “Who’s that he’s talking to?” and I look over to see Brett deep in conversation with a woman in her – I’m guessing – late 40s with sunglasses on her head.
I’m there, “No idea.”
Oisinn’s there, “How is your old dear, Ross?”
I’m like, “You know yourself. Good days and bad. I was in with her yesterday and she had no idea who I even was?”
He goes, “Must be hord.”
I’m like, “Yeah, no, I showed her my Leinster Schools Senior Cup medal–”
He goes, “Of course you did.”
I’m there, “–to see would it hopefully jog her memory, but – yeah, no – nothing.”
Christian goes, “Jesus, that woman is being a bit–”
I’m like, “What?”
And he’s there, “A bit handsy – she’s all over him, look.”
Yeah, no, she’s being a bit touchy-feely, all right.
I’m there, “He won’t do anything. Like you said, he’s happily married. He’s a bit of a dry shite, to be honest.”
I turn to Fionn and I’m like, ‘This is your fault – distracting me with your nonsensical riddles’
Speaking of dry shites, Fionn tries to change the subject then by going, “If you take the first three letters of Sweden and put them together with the first three letters of Denmark, it spells Sweden. And all of the remaining letters spell Denmark.”
The goys are all like, “Wow!” actually encouraging him.
As usual, I’m like, “I don’t get it,” because I’m famously slow on the uptake.
He repeats it two or three more times, but he might as well be explaining the plot of a Mission: Impossible movie to me.
I’m like, “Dude, I’ve no idea what the fock you’re on about.”
And that’s when Christian suddenly goes, “Ross, where’s he gone?”
I’m like, “Who?”
He’s there, “Brett.”
I look over and – yeah, no – he’s literally not there any more.
I’m there, “I don’t know. Maybe he’s gone to drain the spuds.”
But he’s like, “That woman he was talking to is gone as well.”
I’m there, “Did he leave with her?”
He goes, “Must have done.”
I turn to Fionn and I’m like, “This is your fault – distracting me with your nonsensical riddles.”
I put down my pint and I race for the door. A second later, I’m standing outside the bor, looking up and down the road, except there’s no sign of them. But then suddenly I watch a taxi pass. And sitting in the back of it is my brother slash half-brother and the woman who was being all handsy with him. And what I can’t fail to notice is that they’re wearing the face off each other like teenagers.
