So I’ve brought Brian, Johnny and Leo to Morseille – yeah, no, the one in France – for their very first European Cup final. It’s, like, 24 hours before kick-off – or kick-orse, as I call it – and the excitement is already storting to build?
We're sitting outside a little pizza restaurant and I'm telling the goys what the four stors on the jerseys represent. In doing so, I end up giving them a pretty much score-by-score account of the finals against Leicester, Northampton, Ulster and Racing. It's genuine hairs-standing-on-the-back-of-your-neck stuff – people are always telling me I should do a podcast – and the goys are on the edge of their seats listening to it. Actually, that's not true. Johnny is standing behind Brian and he's trying to force his face into his thin-crust quattro formaggi pizza, while Leo is having an actual coughing fit after trying to snort the grated pormesan.
That's when I hear a little voice at the next table go, "Daddy, who was the best player between Johnny Sexton and Jonny Wilkinson?"
I sort of, like, chuckle to myself. The innocence of childhood and blah, blah, blah. I turn my head and there’s a little boy – from the accent, I’m going to take a punt and say Willow Pork – sitting there with his old man.
It’s what his old man says back to him that ends up throwing me into a literally loop. He goes, “That’s a matter of opinion.”
And I must end up pulling a face because the dude goes, “Sorry, have you got a problem?”
I’m like, “Me?”
And he goes, “Yes, you just said, ‘Horseshit!’ under your breath.”
Yeah, no, I may well have said, "Horseshit!" under my breath.
I'm there, "I'm just making the point that one of them is clearly a better 10 in every aspect of his game - including, like, leadership? Jesus, I would have thought that was basic."
The dude goes, “Why don’t you stay out of other people’s conversations and look after your own children?”
As Brian tries to stab Johnny in the head with a fork, I catch his wrist in mid-air. I’m proud to say that what I lack in parenting skills I more than make up for in reflexes and hand-eye co-ordination
And as he says it, I turn my head just in time to see a flash of steel, as Brian tries to stab Johnny in the head with a fork. I catch his wrist in mid-air. I’m proud to say that what I lack in parenting skills I more than make up for in reflexes and hand-eye co-ordination.
Suddenly, I hear the old man's voice coming down the street like a piano crashing down the stairs. He's like, "Kicker! And the chaps! Look at you all! I thought you said you weren't coming to Marseille, Ross?"
I’m there, “That was just to throw you off the scent. I wanted to avoid bumping into you for as long as I could. But here we focking are.”
He goes, "Well, I'm delighted you are here – because I have a little surprise for you!" and he reaches into his inside pocket and whips out a sheet of A4 paper, which has been, like, folded in three. He hands it to me and I open it out.
“I bought it at a charity auction!” he goes. “A mascot for the big day!”
I’m like, “A what?”
“That’s right!” he goes, a Montecristo like a roll of wallpaper wedged in the V of his fingers. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to walk out with the great Leinster team at the world famous Stade Vélodrome!”
I’m like, “Whoa!”
He goes, “Twenty-thousand euros I paid for the thing!”
Of course, I have an obvious dilemma.
I’m like, “Who’s going to look after the kids while I do it?”
The old man looks at me like he’s just discovered the pilot flying his plane is a woman.
Okay, Brian, a nice easy one for you. I gave you the answer 20 minutes ago. Who scored Leinster’s try in the 2009 Heineken Cup final?” " Spain! " Brian goes
"Ross," he goes, "I bought it for the kids."
"Oh, right," I go. "But hang on, it says here that this is for, like, one person?"
“Does it?”
I’m like, “Dude, it’s there in black and white,” and then I look at the goys, pizza sauce smeared all over their faces. “Jesus, which one is it going to be?”
He goes, “It’s a real head-scratcher, Ross! I shall leave you to ponder it! I’m meeting the famous Hennessy for a few, well, Hennessys!” and he off he basically focks.
I'm looking at the goys, their little – okay, made-up word – but expectant faces and I'm thinking how do I do this? Then I have a sudden idea.
I'm there, "We're going to decide this with a quiz. I'm going to ask you three questions each. Okay, Brian, a nice easy one for you. I gave you the answer 20 minutes ago. Who scored Leinster's try in the 2009 Heineken Cup final?"
"Spain! " Brian goes.
I’m like, “No, Spain is a country, I’m pretty sure. I’ll give you a little hint – he recently borred me from his boozer.”
“Focking Spain,” he goes.
I’m like, “Okay, wrong answer. Leo, your turn. In 2012, who became the first player to lift the Heineken Cup three times?”
“Focking Spain!” he goes – then the three of them stort cackling.
I’m there, “Come on, goys, I want you to take this seriously. Leo, you of all people should know the answer to this one!”
“Focking Spain!” Johnny shouts. “Focking pizza! Focking… fock!”
He looks at his old man in just, like, shock. It’s a definite Ed Sheeran on The Late Late Toy Show moment
It would not be an exaggeration to say that my eyes stort welling up in that moment. Because I realise that I should never have brought them here. And that’s when I notice the dude and his son at the next table standing up to go.
I’m like, “Hey, kid, what’s your name?”
The kid goes, "Er, Hugo?"
All kids are called Hugo these days. It’s not just Protestants any more.
I’m there, “You’re going to be the Leinster mascot tomorrow, Hugo.”
He looks at his old man in just, like, shock. It’s a definite Ed Sheeran on The Late Late Toy Show moment.
I’m there, “You’re going to walk out onto the pitch with Johnny Sexton and the goys,” and I hand his old man the piece of paper. He gives it the old left to right.
“This is… unbelievably kind of you,” the dude goes – he obviously regrets being a dick to me earlier.
I’m there, “Hey, it’d be wasted on these three fockwits. Be like taking a donkey to the Louvre.”
The dude goes, “Thank you.”
And I’m like, “The answer to your question, kid, is simple. And after tomorrow, you’ll never need to ask it again.”
*This article was edited on Wednesday, June 1st.
