Ian O'Doherty: The night I began to fall out of love with The Beautiful Game
So, there we were, having a quiet pint on Wednesday afternoon. You know the drill -- you get to knock off work a bit early and one of your mates says: "Fancy a swifty?"
There are few phrases more enticing in the English language than that one -- implicitly guaranteeing one of the great pleasures of Irish life, and that, of course, is the idea of a couple of pints with good friends, good conversation and good slagging of each other in the afternoon.
It's kinda naughty, kinda bold and, let's face it, having a few sly beers in the middle of the afternoon, when most of your colleagues are still tied to the desk, is really rather ridiculously enjoyable.