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Mary puts a stick of Heinemite on the bor for me and I end up having a bit of a moment. I’m wondering how many more times I’ll get to order a pint in Kielys of Donnybrook Town. If they’re serious about being out of here in six months time, it could be in the low thousands.
“It’s funny,” I go, “I always thought I’d grow old in this pub.”
Mary takes my money, goes, “You did, Ross,” and then laughs.
And I laugh – no choice in the matter. I’m going to miss that and a whole lot more. For the 20 years I’ve been drinking in their boozer, Mary and Pat have been not only my hosts, but also my therapists, my shoulders to cry on and – aport from the 14 or 15 occasions when they’ve borred me for life – two of my dearest friends.
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I'm actually thinking, if they'd only held firm the first time they borred me for life in 1998, I might have followed a different life path that ended with me playing for Leinster in a fourth European Cup final in a fortnight's time. And yet I've never held it against them. I realise that's more of a pat on the back for me than them – but, hey, I'll take it!
Suddenly, the place is filled with familiar voices. It’s, like, JP’s that I recognise first, then Oisinn’s. I turn around on my stool and it turns out that Christian and Fionn are with them. They obviously got my text.
“Monday night pints?” Oisinn goes. “It’s like 2003 all over again.”
I'm there, "It was either that or stay home with Sorcha watching The Crown – which is basically Game of Thrones without the bloodshed, the dragons or the riding."
Fionn gets the round in. Typical of him to arrive after I’ve already paid for mine?
JP goes, “God, I’m really going to miss this place. Most of the happiest moments in my life had some kind of association with Kielys of Donnybrook.”
Dude, it's kind of like raising a child. There's no right or wrong way to do it
“What I’ll miss most,” Oisinn goes, “is watching Ross, sitting on that stool there, slowly transitioning into his old man. I was watching you during the England match, Ross, shouting at the TV: ‘Character! Character! Character!’ and I thought to myself, five more years and the metamorphosis will be complete.”
And that’s when I decide to hit them with it – the reason I asked them to come here tonight.
I’m like, “What if I told you we could still have that?”
They’re all there, “What are you talking about, Rossmeister?”
And I go, "What I'm talking about is us . . . buying actual Kielys."
Oh, that rocks them back on their heels.
“Us?” JP goes. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m deadly serious.”
“But we don’t know the first thing about running a pub.”
“Dude, it’s kind of like raising a child. There’s no right or wrong way to do it. One day you’re just landed with one and you sort of make it up as you go along.”
“I can’t wait to hear you make that little speech in the bank, Ross.”
And you couldn't come up with a million squids at the drop of a hat? You're a disgrace to your class
Oisinn goes, "How much is it?" because he's, like, the real businessman among us?
I’m there, “It’s guiding at, like, five mills. And there’s five of us. Now, by my calculations, that’s one million yoyos each. Oisinn, is that the figure you’re getting as well?”
He goes, “Er, yeah, Ross.”
“One million each. Now, I presume none of us would have any problem laying their hands on that kind of moo?”
Fionn actually laughs. He’s there, “Not me, I’m afraid.”
I’m like, “Excuse me?”
“Ross, I’m on an academic’s salary.”
“And you couldn’t come up with a million squids at the drop of a hat? You’re a disgrace to your class, Fionn. I’m telling you, Fr Fehily is spinning like a rotisserie chicken in his grave.”
Christian’s next. He goes, “I’m not sure I could lay my hands on that kind of money either.”
I’m there, “Can you not just re-mortgage your gaff?”
He actually laughs. He’s like, “I couldn’t do that.”
I go, “Why can’t people just relax and accept that the economy is back? Oisinn, tell him. This bubble could end up lasting as long as the last one.”
But Christian goes, “There’s no way Lauren would let me stake our family home on a business venture and that’s just the way it is.”
“A business venture?” I go, hordly able to believe my ears. “This place is a holy shrine, Christian, and it could end up being lost forever. Or, worse, turned into a hipster café. I’m actually scared to fart these days in case someone sets up an independent coffee shop in my back passage. JP, what about you? Do you want a taste?”
JP is another serious, serious numbers head, who also, thankfully, understands the importance of tradition. He goes, “I have to say, I like the idea of us running a rival pub to Jamie Heaslip, Sean O’Brien and the Kearneys at the other end of Anglesea Road.”
I slap the bor – that's how excited I suddenly am? I'm there, "Can you imagine their reaction? Rob Kearney finally gets his comeuppance from the Rossmeister. I shoulder-nudged him coming out of Base Pizza on the Merrion Road last year, just to let him know, 'You're one of my all-time favourite Leinster and Ireland players, but at the same – yeah, no – Clongowes?" and I ended up spending six weeks with my orm in a sling. I don't think Rob even noticed. God, what a hero he is to me."
JP goes, “So are we going to do it? Are you going to ring the agent and make an offer?”
Christian is suddenly struck with the fear of missing out, because he goes, “Okay, let me talk to Lauren about re-mortgaging the house.”
I look at Fionn and I go, “Dude, think about it. We could end up being the Pat and Marys to the next generation of players who very nearly make it in the game. This is our chance to give something back.”
He just sighs and goes, “I suppose I could sell my apartments in Stoneybatter.”
His aportments in Stoneybasher? An academic’s salary, my orse.
I raise my pint and I go, “To the next owners of Kielys of Donnybrook Town!”
And Oisinn’s there, “Ross, this could be your best idea yet.”