Smokey Goes to the Cross
Goes to the Cross
With me drivin licence revoked, Wilomena dumpin me (again), an Toby back
inside, I'm at a loss what ta do with meself Friday evenin. So it's good
timin when Sully phones me the first time in yonks ta see if I wanta
go to the Cork City match. Now, Smokey Looney is always willin ta try new
experiences - of the legal as well as illegal kind - so we ball on over
to Turners Cross ta lamp the Rebel Army!
I start havin second thoughts as soon as we get there though. I mean, I
not sure I like the looks a this. But we're here now so I may's well carry on.
I give a quick check through me pockets n try to act casual.
Normally I follows Celtic, so I was hopin City'd be playin them tonight.
But Sully says Celtic don't actually play in the Irish Premiership Division. I'm
fairly sure he's wrong about that, but anyways, we're playin some crowd
called UCD, that Sully says is a bit like UCC, except in Dublin. Which means
they're students like, so I'm expectin a shower a lazy, slapless wasters
whingin ta the ref about how they don't get paid enough for doin nawtin.
Bit like Arsenal, Liverpool an Man United, come ta think of it.
Our team is the fellas in the green. Not bad for a soccer jersey, but it
be way better if it was, ya know, more luminous. Fluorescent lime green,
like. An I know they're playin soccer, but everywan knows shorts are for
langers. Be mad if they wore tracksuit pants instead. They could have Le
Coq Sportif signs goin all the ways down the sides. Sully says they're barred
from wearin jewellery durin the matches though, which is a good reason never
ta play soccer.
I get inta the spirit a things soon enough, screamin insults at the UCD
feens, callin the ref every name I can think of, an doin the same to our
own players if they make a mistake. Daycent. An fair play to the people
around us, they don't seem ta mind. In fact they're all doin the same thing.
Bein honest, Sully knows a bit more about soccer than I do. I mean, I knows
a fair bit about the big players like Roy Keane, Heimlich Larsson an Patsy
Freyne, but I'm more inta normal stuff like cars an reggae. But I haveta say, this
is some howl. I never been too fond a feens from Dublin, and we're
givin em a batin here. An they're students too so it's two for the price
Final score: wan nil ta City. An this place has everythin, I discover when
I sample the caterin outside.
The two of us head back towards my gaff afterwards for a sit-down, listen
ta some choons, relax n take it easy, if ya know what I be sayin like. Crowbar
was there with his new ol doll an her four brothers. They tore straight
inta the cover of the match programme Sully brought back. Should
keep us in roaches for a couple a weeks. CITY TIL I DIE!
Later the same evening Laurence 'Smokey' Looney was seen propping up the counter in a city-centre
fried chicken outlet, shouting "I'll tell you when I've had enough" at staff.
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