Indians ruling the cowboys will not stop home fires burning
Sky have Munster playing at one on Sunday. We have the International Monetary Fund telling us how to run the country. Money rules the world.
Your man Chopra from the IMF, the first Indian who ever ruled the cowboys, is our real leader now. He calls the shots.
Munster, who have done nothing wrong, are suffering a diminution of sovereignty. It makes no sense.
The plan was to go to the game and then visit the hospitable hostelries of Limerick.
Me, and me alone, had the Limerick pubs opened up on Good Friday last for the Leinster-Munster game. Indeed, well-informed ecclesiastical sources tell me there are publicans' kids who finish up their prayers with God Bless Mammy, God Bless Daddy, God Bless Paulie and God Bless Billy.
"Here, have another one," The Claw might say. And I say: "ah no Claw. Stop. You're embarrassing me. That Dom Perignon is dearer than diesel."
"Drink up," orders Willie Sexton "or you'll insult us at Yule." To be honest I'd rather a pint. Champagne is only fit for making trifle.
But the thing is, if we go drinking at three, we'll be wasted by nine. Never go drinking longer than it takes to get to New York by plane. Take it handy and pace yourselves. Seriously.
I have little doubt, but that Chopra and the Flying Finn Ollie Rehn are behind the early kick-off. Our new overlords obviously ordered Munster to put the game on early to ensure the workforce will be in bed drunk, by nine. Monday output will not be affected.
Energy consumption will be minimised. It's a well known fact drunks do not feel the cold even though the Greens might well have methane issues.
The only consolation is the Finns and the Indians are useless at rugby and so the two might keep out of team affairs. Although a scant knowledge of the game hasn't stopped GAA chairman from interfering.
Roman Abramovich, who knows little about soccer, is always sticking his nose into team business. Brian Cowen's job is more secure than current Chelsea manager Carlo Ancelotti, who looks out from his window every morning to check on the progress of the erection of the scaffold.
Fiscally speaking, the IMF has absolute control over team selection, should they so wish. We had better explain. Rugby players are allowed a big tax rebate when they retire. Part of their earnings are placed in a trust fund and if Rehn and Ollie abolish the tax back, then we will see the greatest Irish exodus to France since The Wild Geese.
Let's journey back in the time to when the story broke about Bishop Eamon Casey, his kid and the kid's mother. It was a mere peccadillo compared to the perverts who came after him.
There were some who thought he was a disgrace to the church. More admired him for the way he faced up to his problems, even if it was late in the day. I was one of that brigade. The barman who was cribbing to me took a different view. It stuck in mind and stayed there over the intervening years.
"What chance," he moaned, "has the likes of my young lad against a bishop's son when it comes to getting on the Kerry minors?"
We are far from a meritocracy in this country. Just wait for the surge in last-minute appointments before the election. 'Pull' opens doors. So, expect to see Irish singletted middle and long distance Finns guzzling back their own blood like thirsty vampires after eating a feed of salty rashers.
The paranoid publican, whose son didn't make the minors even though Peter Murphy wasn't even on the panel, was on his way to the funeral of his best punter. "A publican losing a customer," he said morosely, "is like a farmer losing a cow." Quite what that has to do with this piece is beyond me too, but I thought the publican's take on life might be of interest to you. There can be no doubt, but that his milk of human kindness was skimmed. Let's not expect too much kindness from the IMF.
The Indians are great at the cricket and we are, as they say in 'Shoot', 'their favourite other team', mostly due to the fact that we beat their mortal enemies Pakistan.
Expect to see several Indians on the Irish cricket team in the very near future. Synge Street, the famous Dublin GAA nursery will henceforth become known as Singh Street. Ollie Rehn will claim Finn MacCool as one of their own and order an extra 'n' to be placed in Sporting Fingal.
The Greens rule us, too. Their latest plan is to limit football boots to a maximum size of five in order to minimise the damage to earthworms and millipedes. Kieran Donaghy and Henry Shefflin are having the tops of their toes amputated. At least Brian Cowen played for Offaly and knows his sport. You would have to worry, though, about the impact of just a few money men on our sporting heritage.
We'll be there tomorrow -- in Thomond -- in our thousands. This the IMF cannot impeach.
They might have their hands in our pockets, but they will never steal our games. You're just after singing 'Stand Up and Fight' and then something from deep within bursts out when the red flags are unfurled as the team walk out proud.
That shout is not so much a last hurrah but more of a Munster battle cry. Rosc Catha na Mumhan. Our sporting heroes will show the world that we are no subservient people. The fire in their bellies will incinerate pity and doubt
A mile up the road from Thomond, Crokes and Nemo will fight it out for the Munster Club championship. These lads are playing for their own place and for friends and family.
Let us take heart from our refusal to give up and our enduring loyalty to what matters most. A fleet of buses are travelling up from Crokes. The Yanks will have to cycle round The Ring of Kerry. Nemo will bring a thousand fans to the game. Twenty five thousand will be in Thomond for Munster and the Ospreys.
The IMF will never foreclose on our sport. There are some things money just can't buy.