Guest piece from The Colonel

Get out if you don't like the rules!

I spluttered my sugar smacks all over my Mac this morning on reading that the begrudgers are turning on his Holiness "Kiss my ring" Cardinal Brady ("blessing on his name"). Give the man a break ! He was there simply taking notes! He was obeying orders! Now we see a bunch of liberal middle class softies (led by the Irish Times which seems incapable of keeping its nose out of other peoples business) crying to high heaven asking for his resignation. Give me and him a break!. What did they expect him to do. Voice his concerns that Smithy still had his fingers and ..whatever... in a child's nether regions.

Did they expect him to question his seniors, ask embarrassing questions , spend time wondering if Smithy was still at large - and still be in the refectory in time for dinner? These people have no idea of the demands made on a young celibate priest. They are quite content to sit in a pew and assume that the young fellow up on the alter reading from a book has nothing better to do then worry about every paedophile priest in the country.

My message to these tight arsed, straight backed trouble makers is very simple - If you don’t like the way that we run the church then get the f**k out of it. And that includes the young fellows who Rip van Winkle like have suddenly woken up and remembered that they were buggered 25 years ago. Did they never read the bible? "Turn the other cheek"

The (disgusted) Colonel

'Arry, Rosie and the Law - from the Colonel

Well that was exciting! How we all laughed as poor ol Arry was forced to grovel before the bar of public opinion. We howled at references to Rosie 47 and his proud boast that while being a "phantastic manaja" he could not write (Arry that is and not Rosie - although presumably his canine partner in crime is equally challenged when it comes to putting his thoughts on paper). The key actors even got their lines screwed up as the Slav said it was one thing and Arry screamed it was another. In fact Arry did a lot of screaming. He screamed at the Detective leading the investigation that he was to stop "staring at me". The pantomime was complete when the curtain came down with a resounding "not guilty". Fair enough. We have a jury system so we cannot and really should not challenge or scoff at it's findings.

The circus has moved on and a Mr Suarez has entered stage right and is now the focus of the media. Forgive me therefore if I linger a little longer in the High Court with the evidence of one Mr Harry Redknapp formerly of White hart Lane, 3 Sisters North London.

Harry went to great lengths to explain to the simpletons in the jury how "football" works. If Arry was able to sell a player for more then he bought him then he was entitled to a share of the "profit". Sorry Arry - run that by me again. Arry was given a financial incentive to sell on players! Why? Incentives are there to encourage a particular type of behaviour. In the world I live in such behaviour must be of benefit to the person or entity paying the incentive. Are we to infer that Portsmouth Football Club (on the verge of administration) really considered it to be in their interests to have Arry run his skilled eye over the human assets belonging to the club and then proceed to sell those where he thought he could turn a sizeable profit. Was West Ham delighted when Arry picked out Rio Ferdinand and like some Arabic slave dealer of old announced that he could get a good price for the "Big Guy" at the back. Were they of the view that without the "incentive" Arry might have sold on the cheap? Did nobody say "Mr Redknapp you focus on the game next Saturday and the club will value its own assets if it becomes necessary to sell them"? Did or does nobody recognise that an "incentive" to sell creates a clear conflict of interest. Did or does nobody question why all the fee should not go the club that has nurtured the player since he was 16. Did nobody suggest that Rosie & Arry were already drinking deep at the none too deep well that was Portsmouth Football club.

One thing is for sure, Spurs supporters can be confident that when Mr Bale moves to a warmer clime they will get a shed load of money as result of Arrys standard agreement with his employers - but can they be ever confident that Arry will snub the sale in favour of trying to persuade the player to see out his career at WHL. As Arry himself would say "not on your nelly".
Anyway the show is over. Let move on.

Ed. - when Spurs release Bale, and it really appears that Levy, will decide this and not Arry (after the Modric success), well maybe just maybe they'd be happy to split the proceeds with the raincoated cigarette-smoking tout who screws the diegos rightly.

Ok, maybe not glamorous bank-rolled attractive Spurs when selling the crown jewels, but what of a small unfashionable club down on the south coast of England offloading Peter Crouch for £4.5 million? Not so much of a conflict of interest (90 for you, ten for me), but more of a let's work together to part this fool from his money. As long as people like Abrahovic, Mandaric and Sheikh ManCity are in the game, this kind of questionable behaviour will continue. Let's get back to basics.

Pic courtesy of the British Dog Breeders Association - Harry, Rosie and Buster. Buster was sold for £235,00 in 2011.

A one constant in my life

She was always there for me. Invariably late but she would never let me down. I can picture her now - coming around the top of the road sometimes alone but all too often in a crowd. Without her I don’t know what I would have done. I would have been lost. She witnessed my transition from child to adolescent to university student and more recently to an ageing married man. She was the one constant in my life and I will never forget her.

What you need to remember is that my family were motor less until my mother in a moment of madness bought a 2nd hand blue Volkswagen Beatle despite having nobody in the family who could actually drive the thing. A trip to town for me did not start with a key in the ignition but with my mother pouring over the well thumbed bus timetable. An algorithim of numbers. Time selected, hand in hand, we would make our way down Brewery Road and wait patiently for our bus to keep it's promise. And it always did - maybe late but it always turned up. The 46a you see was our link to the outside world. I can still sense the rush of excitement and adrenaline as it appeared at the bend on the Stillorgan road at the ESSO building. There was a few seconds while mother and child strained their eyes to get confirmation that it was indeed our 46a and not some impostor. The "46" without the "a", easily detected as it was a single decker had to be avoided as it took the Lower Road into town. This would have left us too faraway from the Anne Street post office where my mother, every week, picked up her widows pension. The 86 was a rare bird - very welcome on the return journey when we might be laden down with shopping- but to be avoided at the outset of the day as it detoured via Ranelagh and would have upset our carefully planned morning. Likewise the 84. No we needed to see the "46A" in the little box at the front of the bus before we could relax safe in the knowledge that we would get to our destination. My mother never liked sitting upstairs but she knew I would be heartbroken if we did not tackle the twisting stairwell. As far up to the front as possible. If really lucky at the very front seat. Sit back and enjoy the journey all the way to Grafton street. We relied on it for short hauls too particularly at Christmas. Buying the 6 packs of coke in SuperQuinn knowing that it would not be possible to walk home with such largesse. Loaded down with plastic bags hanging off every finger and crossing over to Nimble Fingers to await "our" bus. Two stops only but a mighty relief to avoid a trek along the busy Stillorgan road. I can vividly recall the first time being on it without my mother. A trip to Dun Laoghaoire with John O Farrell to go to a meeting of the SeaScouts in Dun Laoghaire. This became a regular Friday night odyssey. Sitting bolt upright wearing our round sailors hats and being easy targets for the "knackers" who would invariably board the bus as it passed through Sallynoggin. The journey back. Playacting with the Pilkington brothers and eating our chips. The night I was alone getting off at the bottom of my road not feeling great and fainted just as I stepped off the running board. Lying on the ground having chipped my front teeth and being ignored by other passersby. They assumed another drunken sailor ! In my Blackrock College days it represented the first leg of a highly complex journey planned with military precision. I needed to get to the bottom of Trees road in order to catch the 5 bus which would take me down Merrion Avenue. If I failed to make the connection all was lost unless Gerry Coll happened to come flying by on that odd looking but oh so welcome bicycle of his.

My old reliable saw me in to university and home again. It was always there along side the wall of trinity college waiting amongst a flock of other buses. You would go from bus to bus looking up at the number waiting to see that magical combination of numbers and one letter - 46A. Salvation. Nothing now between me and the comfort of home.

So on my last trip to Dublin to visit the lady who had taken me by the hand on my very first 46 A trip I decided to travel on it again. I did so in the knowledge that it may well be the last occasion that I would travel on the bus that has stood witness to my life in Dublin. It was only 4 stops to the top of Merrion avenue where I dismounted to walk down the avenue to the Blackrock Clinic. Four Stops but a lifetime of happy memories.

History lessons

Am I the only one who views all world events through the prism of exam questions? Ok maybe I am but I have my excuses. I blame the inter cert/leaving certificate curricula. At a very early stage in the history course one's mind jumped to the exam at the end of the year. That was the real skill that separated the good from the mediocre and left a yawning gap between the excellent and the unsatisfactory. You see you did not need to learn about the Weimar republic or German inflation, the Versailles treaty or national socialism - but you did need to know that all these events could be captured under the exam question "Please describe the origins of the 2nd World War. Once you had broken the formula life was easy . Just group various events under the appropriate exam question . Late 19th/ early 20th century Russian history became the "Track the rise of Bolshevism". The long drawn out demise of the Irish clans and the gradual English/Norman plantation was better known to the schoolboy as "Celtic Ireland disappeared at the battle of limerick- please discuss. And so on and so forth.

This is where I have to admit to something even more weird. I have started to predict or at least anticipate future events in the guise of an exam question - particularly in view of recent events on the European stage. Will our grandchildren be scratching their heads as they struggle to answer "What Germany failed to achieve in two World wars they achieved via their economy - discuss and cite to examples". Or "Discuss the demise of Greece as a sovereign state". How about something closer to home. "The transition of Sinn Fein from illegal organisation to a Governmental party" (extra points for those who can cite to the role of the GAA and TG 4) . In very dark moments and thinking way out in time I envisage a soft question such as "Describe how Chinese became the dominant language in Europe - please identify the specific stages of it's development" (Extra marks if answered in Mandarin) . More real might be the "Trace the origins of the Franco German 2020 War and describe the role played by America". And then if in need of a laugh I can go off on a tangent - "The emergence of the European Super state and the role played by Dana." My ego sometime gets in the way "Assess the contribution of Brian Hartnett to the rebirth of European Theatre". We can but dream.

I think it always reads well to finish these thoughtful pieces with a quote. So I give you Einstein " I never think about the future as it comes soon enough"

The Colonel