Howayiz, Jemmy here again to tell you what random reds related thoughts entered what passes for me mind since I last wrote for the lads. The time me and Hughie ‘the stroker’ Borde went to see Dev was a bit of craic. This was a big deal; we were trying to get the GAA trun out of Dublin, seeing as it was full of smelly culchies, priests, bachelor farmers and the like. Anyway, we had asked to meet him in the bar in the Shelbourne Hotel but Dev would have none of it. He insisted we met in an early house down be the markets. Well, we weren’t due into work till 8 and he wanted to meet at half 6 so we said we may as well. When we got there the gaff was full of them aul alco spunkers. We fitted in well. As for Dev, he was like a fish out of water. ‘You get a better class of drinker at this time of the morning. Down and outs, labourers just finished in the markets, gobshites like you two, much preferable to the usual gombeens I have to spend time with’. He refused point blank to ban the GAA from Dublin, pointing out that the GAA had done great things for Dublin over the years. Funnily enough, he didn’t say what they had done, but it seemed to keep us quiet. Hughie wouldn’t let it go though, ‘jaysus Dev, the kip is full of rednecks for half the summer, it’s like living in a bleedin’ piggery, what with all the pigs they bring with them to ate and that. This didn’t sway Dev at all, but sure we had a decent few pints with the man. We had to leg it though, cause Hughie noticed the till was unguarded and stroked the spons. I never thought I’d be legging it with Eamonn de Valera after robbing a pub, but you never know what’s around the corner. We ended up going on a mad session, the three of us, drinking what Hughie stroked. We had a grand day, only spoiled when someone told Dev he was only an aul bollix and stuck the nut on him. You wont read that in any biography.

Another memory is when me and the brother, Dixer went to hear Jem Larkin at liberty hall. Dixer wasn’t really me brother, but he had a manky black neck with a little pale spot under his chin. We couldn’t call him father cause he never tried it on with any of us, so we just called him brother, which drove him mental. Anyway, we were at liberty hall the day big Jem lashed Bohs for having scabs playing for them. Funny how some things never change. I was only sayin to the son the other day, no matter how many times I pass Dalymount, I always think of the time I got the trots, bleedin savage they were. But I got some of mushats cream, rubbed it in and I was regular again in no time. Me arse was killin me for weeks mind you. I went to the doctor to get it checked out and he says to me ‘Jemmy, if you must wipe your hole with the Herald, make sure you take the staples out first’. Even then, that’s all the Herald was good for. It’s a lesson I stick to even now. Another thing the doctor told me was that he wasn’t a doctor and would I ever stop goin in to tell him all me medical complaints. He was tryin to make an eejit out of me though, if he wasn’t a doctor why was he pushin a trolley around Mercers hospital from morning till night? I’m not that easy kidded.

Anyway, that’s all in the past now, like Rovers having a good team and Shels constantly being on the move, Jaysus thems were black days. Thank God we won’t see them again and thank God Shels have a few lads in charge who know the story. Sure Tolka’s the best home we ever had. They’d never make the same mistake again, now would they?