Avoiding the scrum of bargain hunters
I WAS like a determined show jumper in the RDS attempting to stay well clear of the top of the mighty wall in the Puissance as I manfully avoided one of the most maddening and suffocating phenomenons of modern times.
I’m not talking about Jose Mourinho’s scowl after he witnesses Man United suffer another embarrassing setback, or the sound of condescending Clive Tyldesley’s voice as he fawns over a less than impressive England victory.
No I’m referring to the annual painful boil on the backside that is Black Friday - the day when businesses inflate their prices, then drop them back to somewhere close to normal to make you feel like you’re getting a brilliant bargain.
For one day only you can bag an Andy Carroll for £30 million, a Fernando Torres for £50 million, and why not go crazy, as a limited edition Paul Pogba can be yours for just £100 million give or take a few pieces of silver.
I feel I deserve a pat on the back for successfully navigating the entire day without setting foot in a shop or looking at any ‘bargains’ online that cynically scream ‘buy me’ from the screen.
Christmas shopping is bad enough for us men folk at the best of times without Americanising ourselves and throwing in another day to drive the stress levels through the roof quicker than the devil during a card game.
Apparently some masochists can’t get enough of it though and are even willing to literally scrap it out to lay their greasy hands on the best offers.
Rugby may have become over-physical of late but it’s only in the ha’penny place compared to a couple of auld ones armed with handbags and umbrellas with an evil glint in their eyes in search of a bargain.
I did manage to catch Ireland’s battling win over Australia on Saturday after rushing back from seeing the pensioner with the red nose switching on the local Christmas lights (not Alex Ferguson, the other one, Santa Claus).
The game offered further encouragement that Ireland have a new-found self-belief, that wasn’t always there, to match their talent.
Some Irish teams of old would have buckled when Australia fought back to take the lead after being 17 points adrift, but not this current crop who seem to have an unwavering belief in their own ability. The most pleasing aspect is that we now have players that can seamlessly come into the starting 15 without weakening the side.
When you compare it to the ill-fated World Cup quarter-final against Argentina when the loss of a few key men completely scuppered our chances, now the likes of Josh van der Flier or Garry Ringrose can step in and do as good a job as the player they’re replacing.
After beating New Zealand, Australia and South Africa we certainly have plenty to look forward to in the Six Nations. Of course, getting the better of an in-form England side will be no easy task, but it will certainly be a mouth-watering occasion and similar to the season of renewal, Ireland will definitely have a spring in their step.
Speaking of springtime, Chelsea’s Victor Moses, who spent the last three seasons out on loan, has certainly blossomed like a long overdue daffodil of late.
It looked like he would continually cower under the cracked soil but finally he has burst into the light and is showing what he’s made of, like a preening peacock confidently spreading its tail feathers.
Not so long ago he couldn’t hit a cow’s arse with a banjo, but now as he struts his stuff it seems that, like his namesake, he is capable of parting the Red Sea.
It may have taken time but the £9 million Chelsea paid for him certainly seems like a bargain now and the Stamford Bridge side won’t be too bothered now if they’ve thrown away the receipt.
Finally, the most heartening sports story of the week involves father and son Peter and Oliver Lines who both pulled off seismic shocks to reach the last 32 of the UK Snooker Championship.
Amateur Peter (46) caused a huge upset by beating the reigning champion Neil Robertson, while his son Oliver (21) ousted world number three Judd Trump.
I’ve seen a few father and son combos lining out in Junior ‘B’ or low-grade soccer games from time to time, but to do it away from the mucky fields in a high grade televised tournament is a massive achievement.
Almost as praiseworthy as managing to avoid the Black Friday scrum.