The Games of the XXIXth Olympiad will officially commence at eight o'clock tomorrow evening, and the mind of the Irish nation has but one issue bouncing around in the brain – who’s going to mind our lovely Derval O’Rourke and her among all those hopped up buck eejits who fancy their chances with Ireland’s sweetheart in the notorious Olympic village?
Derval O’Rourke first won the nation’s heart when she won the World Indoor Championship of lepping in Moscow about two years ago. She hasn’t won too much since, God love her, and we might be well advised against holding our breath this time out either, but no matter. When Derval won in Moscow she unleashed on the nation the most beautiful smile seen in Irish sports in about twenty years. Cormac Bonnar, former full-forward for Tipperary in the eighties, had a lovely smile as well but he had only about three teeth left in his head – timber takes no prisoners in Tipp, you know. Lovely Derval has the full set of choppers, and when she turns on full beam she wins every heart within swooning distance.
Poor Derval will be busy in China. Not only has she to prepare for the hurdles in the light of yet another injury scare, but An Spailpín Fánach has it on good authority that she promised Seán Óg Ó hAlpín fifteen sets of Mao’s little red book with matching Chairman hats for delivery to Páirc an Chrócaigh by Sunday morning at the latest. They bonded over the breakfast rolls doing those Spars ads, you know. Seán Óg’s plan is that if the wild cats of Kilkenny are tearing Cork asunder coming into the final twenty minutes of hurling, Seán Óg can tip the wink to Dónal Óg and they can all go on strike again. Sure won’t Frank sort it all out later?
With all that on her plate, as well as her own training and preparation, it’s vital that no smartarse son of a bitch goes bothering Ireland’s sweetheart in the Olympic village, every damned one of them full to the gills of calf nuts and amour. It behoves the honour of every member of the Irish Olympic Team to protect lovely Derval, and to soften a few coughs while they’re at it. God knows, they’ll be doing nothing else anyway.
An Spailpín Fánach proposes a tag team strategy. Firstly, the Irish national champion boxer at Light Heavyweight, Kenneth Egan, should be appointed lovely Derval’s official IOC accredited minder and chaperone. He should take the book of Ruth as his light and inspiration, saying to Derval “whither thou goest, I shall also go,” and following that rule to the letter. So some wise guy who’s only over for the dressage will find Big Ken a horse of a different colour. Big Ken has a jaw like the front bucket of a JCB, God bless him – he won’t go down aisy.
But in case he does, or Derval, in a moment of weakness, succumbs to some flash Harry who can cycle a BMX – a BMX! – bike better than anyone else, Plan B comes into action. Plan B is to have Derval room with Siobhán Byrne.
Not only is La Byrne very beautiful, but the Ohio State Buckeye is the first Irish fencer to qualify for the Olympics in sixteen years. So, when Mr BMX slinks his way back to the flat, Siobhan simply reaches for the sabre under the bed and runs the dirty rat through. She then gets on the phone to Big Ken and gets him to dispose of the body, by ating it if he has to. By rights, Siobhán’s duties should also include giving Derval a good telling off, but what force could withstand Derval’s beautiful beam? Best to just run the sword under the tap and say no more about it.
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