paddy's day 17 March 2008
I was once the Grand Marshal of the St Patrick’s Day parade in Dublin . An honour, of course, but tarnished a little by the fact that I was effectively a stand-by option. Roy Keane, footballer and now manager extraordinaire, was first choice but he had a game on the day appointed (it fell on a Saturday that year). It was very odd to know that most of the parade committee were silently praying that he’d pick up a injury during the week and be unable to line out for his real work and therefore be able to sit atop a car waving at people in Dublin’s fair city instead of thrashing opponents in The Beautiful Game. Well, it came to pass that he was hale and hearty on the day and yours truly sat in the green sports car waving green, white and orange pompoms at the hoards of revellers lining the streets of the Irish capital, and great fun that was too. I had declared earlier during my speech at the celebratory breakfast (champagne, a big fry-up including black pudding and banjo playing before 10 am, I kid you not) that I regarded this journey as my own personal JFK-in-Dallas experience and was fearful of book repositories and grassy knolls along the route – that set the tone for sure (and shocked a few of our American visitors). I survived, though, and have a lovely sculpture to remind me of the occasion.
Incidentally, I love black pudding but found it a challenge for a time after an American comedian playing the Cat Laughs Festival in Kilkenny opined that it was merely ‘fried scab’…
