Well well well, it seems the Sunday Game panel are trying to outdo each other with tales of past adventures with members of the opposite sex.
I think it's no exaggeration to say the nation was collectively flabbergasted when Pat Spillane regaled us on All Ireland final day with a story about him getting the shift in Adelaide in the 1980s but now Joe Brolly has gone and stolen his shift thunder.
Nestled within his Derry Journal column this week is a story about a night of shenanigans he had in America over 20 years ago:
'After the first training session with the team in Van Courtland Park, we went to the bar overlooking the park and got very drunk.
“Duck, young Brolly,” said one of the older lads, just as a volley of empty shot glasses smashed against the wall of the pub. I had barely straightened up when they drilled another row of shots and another half dozen egg cups shattered against the wall. At this point, I got into a safer position behind a pillar. Thing was, nobody asked them to stop. It was like Vikings drinking after they had sacked the nunnery and cut off the locals’ heads.
As the night wore on I fell in with a girl and after a short time we were earnestly telling each other how much we loved one another. In the small hours, we ventured outside, she produced keys to an ancient $300 sedan and full as a monkey, she drove home. When she reached her building, she turned right a bit too hard and drove straight into the wall of the apartment block. It was like the opening credits in “Police Squad” where the squad car drives straight into the dustbins. She didn’t even reverse. Just left the car with its nose crushed against the wall. Next morning when we emerged, she saw the damage and said, “What were you thinking of driving home? Look what you’ve done to my car.”'
Joe was rumoured to have responded to her by saying 'I want absolutely nothing to do with that. That's an absolute disgrace. You can say whatever about you being a great shift but you can forget about it as far as you're a good driver.'
The best bit is, it's not even funniest anecdote in Brolly's article. He goes on to tell another story about two Derrymen who also found themselves in an inebriated state one night in America. They stumbled upon a police car that had been left copless, with the policemen presumably gone in pursuit of someone on foot.
Brolly eleborates, 'The two lads did what any young farmer abroad in a strange country would do. They climbed into the squad car, took hold of the mic and enquired after the price of ewes at the Dungiven sheep sales.'
After getting warned by the voice on the other line that they were committing a federal offence, the boys responded 'Jesus woman, we only want to know the price of ewes, we’re not f****ing drug dealers.'
Reflecting upon Joe's article I have decided that a) I'm moving to America and b) there should be some sort of weekly television show with the Sunday Game lads where they do nothing but relive past excursions. Excellent stuff.
