‘Clack, clack, clack’… a beautiful sound of this week… and thoughts of Paris 2024!


I’m sorry?

No need to apologise! CLACK, CLACK, CLACK! Or maybe thud, thud, thud…

Everything okay?

It’s just one of the sounds of the week…

I get it… well, I don’t, but I can guess…

Go on…

Micheál Martin banging his head off his desk after reading those opinion poll results?


Dublin players bouncing off Offaly players?


Hold it! Thud, thud, thud… is it yet another candidate in Midlands-North-West arriving in haste into a civic area to sign their registration papers?

NO! I’ll give you a clue… it’s to do with sport!

Ah, is it the sound that reverberated inside Rory Mcllroy’s head after he spent the night partying with Shane Lowry after their big win in New Orleans?

NO! It’s the sound of the snooker… at the Crucible. Clack, clack, thud, thud… and it’s beautiful!


(They pause to place election leaflets received through their respective letter boxes in alphabetical order)



So I take it you spent the weekend watching snooker?

I watched some snooker… and spent the rest of the weekend watching GAA, soccer, golf…

Me too!

Speaking of sports, congratulations to Aoife O’Rourke on winning a third European boxing title!

Brilliant! Congrats also to the Convent of Mercy, Roscommon team on retaining the All-Ireland Senior Girls Schools golf title! And Olivia Costello continues her rise as an international star!

Isn’t Aoife O’Rourke bound for the Paris Olympics?


Okay. Just wondering…


You know the way relations between us and the Editor are a bit.. er, tense?

In the sense that it’s over two years since you promised to negotiate a new contract with him for our column, and you’ve made no progress? That and the fact that we suspect he has been lining up Joe Brolly to replace us? And that we broke into his office a week or two ago and retrieved the resignation letter that you bizarrely sent him in an effort to call his bluff?

Er, yeah…


Let’s try a new approach! Let’s be proactive!


We put a proposal to him! Tell him we’re prepared to cover the Olympics in Paris. You and me, on the ground over there, providing blow by blow – literally blow by blow – accounts of Aoife’s fights! Just imagine, we could file the copy from outside an exclusive bar/bistro overlooking The Arc de Triomphe on the Champs-Élysées!

Brilliant! I’ll draft an email to him straight away!

Parfait! Parfait!


(Editor: ‘Get me Joe Brolly on line one’)