It's Hennessy, of all people.

I'm there, "I'm, er, kind of busy at the moment, " and he goes, "I can see that. Can I come in?" and I end up letting him.

He goes, "Lauren phoned. She and Christian have settled right in. California. She said she's never seen him so happy, " and I'm like, "Sorry, you called around to tell me my best friend is getting on fine without me?"

He sits down and suddenly looks all, I suppose the word is grave. He's there, "No, I called around for another reason. Ross, as you may or may not remember, in 1999 the government announced plans to build a national stadium in one of Dublin's northwestern townships?" I wish he wouldn't smoke those focking cigors in here. Sorcha will have a knicker-fit.

He's like, "Your father and I set up a group called Keep It South Side, which, I can happily recall, succeeded in its primary objective of scuppering the plan. However, in recent times, we've become complacent?" I'm there, "You're talking about Ireland playing at Crock Pork, aren't you?" and he goes, "You're damn right I am, " and I sit down on the other sofa and I'm like, "Well, relax, will you? It's not going to happen. There's no way the likes of Shaggy and Dorce are going to play in a place like that.

Their insurance wouldn't cover them for storters. It's not going to go ahead - mork my words.

There'll be a revolt."

"Ross, " he goes, raising his voice and standing up, "stop deluding yourself! It's happening. Rugby in the Herald. Drico talking about the Dubs. There's only one man who can stop this madness - and at the moment he's refusing to see me?" I'm like, "My old man?"

He goes, "He won't talk to me - thinks I'm trying to persuade him against pleading guilty. Ross, we need your father. He's still our most powerful voice - even from within the walls of that? stalag.

You need to go and talk to him."

Which is what I do on Friday, roysh. Of course the dickhead ends up making me look a tit in front of the entire visiting room by going, "Here he comes everyone, the best backs coach in the land - Eddie O'Sullivan to my George Hook, quote-unquote."

Of course everyone looks up and loads of them go, "Howiya, " which is working class for hello.

"How are you, Kicker?" he goes.

"Didn't expect to see you today.

You're still coming in to train the boys tomorrow, aren't you?" and I look around at the goys - Anto, Bowie, Snail's Pace, the Gartons - they're looking at me in, like, awe and there's no way I can let them down.

"I haven't decided yet, " I go.

He doesn't take the bait. He's like, "I'm glad. Look around you, Ross. Look at all the smiling faces, " and he is roysh - it's actually quite a happy place, compared to what it was like when he came in here first.

There's, like, a buzz that definitely wasn't there before.

He goes, "Rugby - that's what's done it. It's mellowed this place like a tonne of burn. And if you've noticed a felicitousness in the air, that's not your imagination, Ross, because the big news - fanfare please, trumpets, etcetera - is we've arranged our first match."

"Who against?" I go and he's there, "Shannon! Would you believe it, they're letting us out to play - under guard, of course."

I go, "Do you not think you'd be better off concentrating on your case? Your trial's in May."

He throws his orms up and he's there, "There isn't going to be a trial. Not as such. I've pleaded guilty. It's open and shut. Caveat emptor, if you'll pardon the French, for their servile capitulation in two wars. All that awaits me is my sentence, which I'll face with a manly stoicism, fullstop, new par?" He's focking madder than JP.

Then he goes, "Pardon me for saying it, Ross, but you don't seem your usual cheery self."

I sort of laugh and I'm like, "Can you blame me? It looks like I'm going to have to take my life in my hands if I want to watch Ireland this year."

"Ah, " he goes, "rugby at Croke Park. Practically on our doorstep here, in the old NCR Hilton."

I'm there, "So you haven't forgotten then, " and he goes "Of course not, " and I'm like, "I was beginning to wonder. I thought the man who once said that the National Lottery was an ingenious way of taking people's dole money back was going soft in his old age.

The man who said that people who fail the Leaving Cert should be sterilised?" He goes, "Don't you worry.

While you've been out and about with your pals and so forth, me and the chaps here have been planning a demonstration."

I'm like, "A demonstration? This is more like it. Are we talking, like, a rooftop protest?"

"Difficult, " he goes. "Some of the chaps weren't too keen. See, it's alright for me - I'm looking at 10 years before I make paper - but some of these are going to be hitting the bricks in a matter of months. That'd put a few extra years on their sentences."

I throw my eyes up to heaven.

"Now you can take that frown, " he goes, "turn it upside and make it into a smile, Kicker, because I'm not going to let this occasion go by without making my feelings known in the strongest possible terms. Lex and I have made a banner, Ross, which we intend to hang from our cell window."

I'm like, "This is good shit. I'll give Ryle a ring, make sure they get footage of it in the can."

"That'd be great, " he goes and then he shouts down to Lex.

"Bring that banner over here, Lex.

I want to show Kicker here."

So the old man storts unfurling it - that's the word - and going, "I want my feelings to be made known to the widest possible audience, " and I'm stood there, roysh, staring at this banner and I'm, like, rooted to the spot.

It says, "Mountjoy Welcomes Rugby To Croke Park!"