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Coffee Morning Whispers: The gods of Facebook melted our hero's moment in the sun


Facebook Likes can reveal a lot about someone's personality

Facebook Likes can reveal a lot about someone's personality

Facebook Likes can reveal a lot about someone's personality

I was a little taken aback when I logged on to my Facebook page and saw a short video of Jose wearing his golf hat and holding a trophy. His status read "Winner of Kildare Golf Open".

Underneath, friends and family from as far away as New Zealand had congratulated him on his prowess. "Magnifico," commented his brother. "Rory better watch out," wrote a work colleague.

Jose took up golf when he arrived in Ireland a couple of years ago and now dresses for the course as if he is being sponsored by Nike. When he started out he also wanted to buy a pair of plus fours in the Spanish colours, but Patsy put a stop to that.

"No way. You will look like a madman," she said to him.

"Si ahora soy un loco es porque vivo con usted!" he replied, which roughly translates as "if I'm a madman, it's because I live with you" - which is a fair observation.

Anyway, he now spends his spare time posting golf scores and generally teeing off the rest of us with videos of himself swinging a driver over his head like a demented Tasmanian Devil.

The divots of grass that ensue often land closer to the green than his actual ball.

But back to the Kildare Golf Open. It was the first I'd heard of such a competition, and I also thought it was a little early in the year for the event. The day he posted the video the ground temperature in Kildare was around -10C and accompanied by a gale that would strip the hair off your nasal passages - hardly optimum conditions for such a prestigious event.


I looked closer at the trophy. It really was quite beautiful. A disc of glass, perfectly round and clear and about the size of a Frisbee. Then I noticed something else. The trophy appeared to be dripping down his arm. I rang Patsy, but it was Jose who answered.

"Congratulations on your great golf win," I said to him.

"Si, si, me briliante, no?" he replied.

I went for the kill.

"Why is the trophy dripping down your arm?"

"Que? Que? No comprendo, no comprendo," he replied, sounding more and more like Manuel from Fawlty Towers.

Patsy grabbed the phone off him and ordered him to go and turn on Spongebob Squarepants for the cat.

"I nearly believed him as well," she said. "Then I copped that the bucket of water outside had frozen over and he had managed to prise the ice out whole. Hence the trophy. One of his cousins has even suggested he should be picked for the Ryder Cup."

I wouldn't worry if I was you, Rory.