I don't usually go drinking at midday of a Sunday,
but a Pal shouldn't be drinking alone when one of his pals leaves this mortal coil.
And so we drank a toast to his friend's life, to his memory. We talked shite, we laughed, we held back tears, we drank some more, and more, and we stumbled home in the sunshine.
There are too many clichés I could insert here, just pick your own.
In the midst of all that, here's what was in front of us in our local today for the match! Only in Ireland!! (thanks to Eiméid Ó'Throighigh, my favourite barman, for the pic!)