AGAINST THE ODDS:Vinny enjoys some time out back in his customary watering hole in Clontarf following his eventful holiday in Italy

THE PINT of stout placed on the counter of Foley's was to Vinny Fitzpatrick a thing of beauty, a joy forever. It was cool, not cold, and came with a collar more suited to an aspiring parish priest than a bishop of the diocese.

Without waiting unduly for the yeast, water, hops and malted barley - roasted, to provide the dark colour and caramel-like flavour - to settle in the glass, Vinny opened the drawbridge and horsed back a deep swallow of Uncle Arthur's finest.

After a week of Chianti and umpteen bottles of Peroni on the shores of Lake Garda, he was gasping badly for a fix of Dublin's best brew. "Crikey, I needed that," he said to himself.

Three swigs later, the glass was empty and Vinny caught the eye of Dial-a-Smile behind the taps to order a refill. It was a quiet, muggy Monday afternoon and Vinny had repaired to his customary watering hole in Clontarf for a much needed time-out after a week away with Angie that, fair to say, he would never forget.

A knowing smile played on his plain, cherubic features as he reflected on his holliers in Italy, which had begun slowly but had finished on a high.

The week, he thought, had not been unlike the Tour de France, which he could see on the telly in the corner of the lounge.

There had been long days in the saddle when nothing had happened; there had been sprints that ended in chaos and flailing limbs; and there had been back-breaking climbs to the summit where it was crucial to set your own pace and ensure you lasted the distance.

And if he hadn't ended the week in the yellow jersey of race leader, Vinny felt he'd done enough to capture the green jersey for all-round consistency.

Thinking of the green jersey reminded him of Seán Kelly, the iron-willed son of the soil from Carrick-on-Suir, who won the jersey four times on the Tour in a distinguished career.

In those heady days for Irish cycling in the 1980s, when Kelly, the gifted Stephen Roche and the underrated Martin Earley were in their prime, Vinny marvelled at Kelly's capacity to race from early spring to late autumn at full throttle. Whether it was a one-day classic like Paris-Roubaix, a short stage race such as Paris-Nice or one of the grand tours, Kelly reported for duty.

They called him Le Cannibal after the all-time great Eddy Merckx, because both were possessed with an insatiable hunger for racing, and for winning.

These days riders looked to peak for one race, usually the Tour de France, but in Kelly's time you put your foot to the pedal in the Race to the Sun in March and kept racing until the leaves were falling in the Tour of Lombardy in October.

Kelly didn't say much in those days, once famously nodding when asked a question on radio by Jimmy Magee. But you couldn't shut him up now, thought Vinny, as he listened to Kelly call the shots on Eurosport's coverage.

Settling snugly into a third pint and his first packet of King crisps, Vinny took closer notice of the pictures being beamed back from the Pyrenees.

He didn't follow cycling as closely as before but knew the Tour de France was no longer the stomping ground of legends. There was no Merckx, Bernard Hinault, Greg Lemond, Big Mig Indurain or seven-time winner Lance Armstrong to boss the race.

Looking at his morning newspaper, he noted the rider leading was a chap called Kim Kirchen from Luxembourg, not a country you'd associate with potential winners of the Tour de France - even if Vinny faintly recalled Charly Gaul, a winner in the days of black-and-white TV, being from the Grand Duchy.

Watching Kirchen, wide-mouthed and bare-chested, struggle on his own on the climb to the finish at Hautacam, Vinny observed that there would be no Luxembourg champion this year, only to hear Kelly tip Frank Schleck, another Luxembourger, as the likely stage winner and overall contender.

"How can a country the size of Luxembourg produce two riders good enough to challenge in the Tour de France, and our only connection with the race is Kelly as an analyst?" wondered Vinny.

It was riveting stuff, and reminded Vinny just how much he loved the Tour de France. He particularly loved the stages in the mountains when there was no place to hide and only the hardest of hard men survived.

He loved the milling crowds, the breathtaking scenery and the masochistic bunch sprints. He also admired the clipped tones of TV commentator Phil Liggett and noted the peculiar way he pronounced the race as the "Tour de Fraunce". Heck, he even found the individual time trial exciting, especially when they split the TV screen and you could tell how all the top guys were doing.

He didn't love the drug scandals that had tainted this most wondrous sporting spectacle, but took comfort in the fact the sport's authorities had finally got around to doing something about it.

By now, it was close to 5pm and Vinny, who was due back behind the wheel of the 27 the next day after his hols, was contemplating shuffling down to the Capri for a fish supper when he heard a familiar voice.

"Well, if it isn't Clontarf's own Pavarotti?"

It was Macker. Ordering two fresh creamies, Macker pulled up a stool beside his close friend.

"Now, take me through the Italian job with Angie, step by step. I'm all ears."

Vinny shrugged and smiled.

"As Seán Kelly would have put it, it was super, absolutely super,"he began.

Bets of the Week

1pt ewAngel Cabrera in British Open (55/1) Paddy Power (paying top seven)

2ptsLevadia Tallinn to beat Drogheda Utd in Champions League (19/5)

PS(Trust you were on board last week as Graeme McDowell delivered the goods at 40/1 in the Scottish Open)

Vinny's Bismarck

1pt LayWexford to beat Dublin in Leinster SFC final (3/1 general, liability 3pts)