A Hooker's Diary . . . with John Hogan
During the two week hiatus from the Hooker's Diary there were some interesting developments that warrant mentioning before proceeding any further.
Predictably, sales of the Limerick Leader plummeted during the break as a result of the Diary deficiency.
However, I also received a boost to my ego by virtue of an invitation to join Catriona Tierney as a 'guest celebrity co-host' on the Live 95FM Breakfast Show. That's right folks, I am now officially a celebrity and at this rate don't be too surprised to see me firing my clumsy clogs around the dancefloor on the next season of Celebrity Jigs and Reels.
With the league done and dusted, this week saw us start into the play-off stage of the season with a semi-final against the opponents from our final league game, Banbridge.
Tuesday
Although we'd beaten the northern boys by 22 points in our last game of the league stages two weeks ago nothing was being taken for granted this week.
If anything, the rate at which we were being put through our paces in training was more furious than usual.
Without a doubt this had a lot to do with almost half the panel having boarded the same campervan on our weekend off and hit the road to Gloucester for the Heineken Cup and a few cups of Heineken.
Some might say taking off for a weekend with the lads wasn't the brightest idea the week before a big game.
Others may say living in such cramped and potentially injury-inflicting conditions with such cracked and potentially injury-inflicting friends wasn't quite a stroke of genius either.
However, the only mistake in the lead up to Gloucester was that made by the bright spark who chose to tell our coach that we were going, leading him to think that we'd need a "run it out of your system" training session upon our return.
I haven't found the informant yet but once I do, I'll most likely chicken out of taking any physical retribution and opt instead to spread rumours about him behind his back.
Thursday
I inflicted an injury on a teammate this evening in probably the strangest manner that's ever been conceived.
While attempting to halt a rolling maul in my capacity as a Thursday night tackle-bag, I fell over and landed on Martin O'Rourke. The angle at which I fell, combined with Martin's raised leg meant that his knee clashed with my person at the location in which a man least likes to receive a good bash of a knee.
After sustaining such a considerable blow to my nerve centre, I set about counting my essentials - standard procedure in such a scenario - but I was surprised to hear Martin also wailing in pain.
I checked to see if someone else had made contact with our burly number eight, but no one had, and besides it was his knee that he was clutching.
The same knee that had been buried literally "knee deep" in my groin only a few seconds previously.
As it turned out, whatever pain I was feeling at that point had been equally felt at the other end despite my blow jeopardising future generations of Happy Hookers and Martin's being received in his presumably sturdy knee cap.
Well at the rate the game is going, they do say that you need balls of steel to compete, so it sounds like I'm suitably equipped.
Saturday
From the kick off this afternoon, Banbridge seemed intent on taking revenge on us for the beating inflicted upon them two weeks ago in their own backyard.
There may has well have been a revolving door on the sin bin and on more than one occasion, knuckles were tasted.
The tense mood was broken only by the intrusion of a pitch-invading dog, who showed some fast feet to not only dodge the fourth official but also half our backline.
I wonder if anyone has signed him up for next year.
After putting up a much tougher battle than our previous encounter, the northerners finally buckled and we were in our second final in two years.
The news came filtering through that our opponents the following weekend would be Instonians, who had put up a cricket score of 69-17 on Queen's University in the other semi-final.
Let's hope the students had just finished exams and were hiding in a bottle of Buckfast in the last few days before their semi-final because a scoreline like that would otherwise suggest that Instonians have hit form.
Some outsiders may incorrectly think that the average rugby player is in the game for the camaraderie, the pride of representing their club or the lack of options in any other sport due to their less-than-aerodynamic build.
However, the fact of the matter is every rugby player in Ireland, nay the world, is motivated by one thing and one thing only and that is the prospect of free gear.
With the season drawing to a close and the weather getting warmer, the powers that be at the club were obviously worried that some of us would lose our interest during a summer of not being beaten up four times a week.
With that in mind, we received some extra "motivation" to continue playing after the match this evening with the presentation of some free Bruff fleeces courtesy of Pa Halpin.
As much as I moan about playing and training for rugby, the free fleece got me thinking that one day I will have to pay for my full wardrobe so I think I'll stick it out for a few more years yet.
As I left the dressing room in my newly acquired clobber, I received some shocking news from our manager, Michel.
"Come here can I have a word with you," he said, with my mind instantly set racing with the notion that I had been unceremoniously dropped from the panel for the final game of the year.
"One of my neighbours told me you were flirting with her over at the Gloucester game last weekend, coming up and telling her she was beautiful for half the evening."
I initially received this news with a degree of relief.
The news could have been a lot worse.
I could have been joining the supporters on the sideline for the game next week or worse again, I could have been caught flirting with the manager's daughter.
"Ah well you know me Michel, a bit of a rogue with the ladies when I'm out on the town," I dishonestly replied.
"Well obviously you are.
"She said that she told you she was 50 and it didn't put you off one little bit.
"Fair play to you," answered a chuckling Michel.
Well a lot of people say that the vintage models are better than the flashy new ones anyway don't they?
Just to return briefly to the subject of balls, we're having one this year to celebrate our victory in Division Three and that's right ladies, I am on the hunt for a date that will blow everyone else's partner out of the water.
The e-mail address again is john.hogan@limerickleader.ie.
If you can guarantee that you will be the most eloquent, evenly-tanned, well-proportioned belle of the ball on the night, send in that application!
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Weather for Limerick
Monday 21 May 2012
Today
Cloudy
Temperature: 12 C to 18 C
Wind Speed: 17 mph
Wind direction: South
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Temperature: 13 C to 18 C
Wind Speed: 18 mph
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