Highs and Lows

77 Minutes in and we were on Cloud 9, Ireland were 4 points clear, having led through most of the second half of the match. A Grand Slam looked probable, Croke Park had fulfilled all expectations, and even us Irish over in Cayman felt like we were in North Dublin, singing the Fields of Athenry...... 60 seconds later, and the dream was over. Grand Slam and Six nations hopes were dashed. Plans to continue celebrating into the afternoon were cancelled, and we were on our way home 5 minutes later. It could have gone either way. You cant blame the ref, you cant blame anyone. France were strong, Ireland got better, both teams made mistakes, neither would have beaten an even average performing All Blacks side, but it will probably end up being the game of the six nations. 'Nuff said!
The weekend started on Thursday night when I finally brought Jill for dinner in Papagallos, the nicest restaurant on the island. She was suitably impressed! I had been in a miserable enough mood all week, complaining of the pain of my rib, and the lack of sleep it was causing, so Jill more than deserved a nice meal out.
One of our friends, Dec, had visitors over for the week, two girls from home, so a few of us went out straight after work on the Jolly Roger booze cruise, a 3 hour, all you can drink for 25 bucks, cruise up and down the beach, on a faux pirate ship. We then bailed down to Aqua Beach where another of the lads, Paul Foxton, whom myself and Gav Tobin had gone to college with, was having birthday drinks (part 1). There was a "dishco" in the Irish bar next door, being organised by Sunset FC, whom a few of the lads play for, so we headed in after a few more drinks. By this stage, most of the lads and the girls were hammered, and when the bar closed we all fell in to the Next Level nightclub next door. Unfortunately this was the one weekend that we didn't bring our camera out, missing some classic scenes of all the lads with their tops off, dancing around Jill, rubbing their sweat in her face as she squealed. Very classy indeed!
Saturday morning was a slow start. I walked the dogs on the beach before waking Jill up to help me bring the two mutts for their visit to the vets. We chilled out for the early afternoon, Jill going back to bed, as I waited for the carpenter to arrive to fix the spare bedroom door that I busted the first week I moved into Southampton, back in July when Graham and Ais were here! Only took me 7 months to get it fixed!
Myself, Murph, and Jimmy played golf in the late afternoon, after a bit of practice on the driving range, which I badly needed to find a comfortable swing for my cracked rib (not that I don't need the practice anyway). We played nine, ending up 3 skins each, a fair outcome considering how badly we played: three of the nine holes saw all of us hit three off the tee, and the 18th hole, a par 5, was won with a score of 8! My ribs were killing me by the end of it, but at least I had lost no money! A game of golf in Safe Haven is class. There is a girl who follows you around in a buggy with iced cold beers, soft drinks, and food, whenever you need it. You cant beat it!
Anyway, couple of pints in the club house, quick shower and change, before 20 of us met up in Copper Falls, the Steak House beside our house, for Paul Foxton and Sarah Sweetnam's joint birthday dinner. We unfortunately were split across two tables, but it was good craic all the same. By midnight we were all standing in a circle between the two tables watching two of the lads play a game of "Gay Chicken", the brainchild of Jimmy where the first guy to pull away from the snog is the chicken. As the last people in the restaurant at 12:30, shouting in a circle at two guys nearly kissing, you can understand why the restaurant threw us out!
We all bailed back to our pool were some of our neighbours were hosting a Toga party. Most of the toga crew (men and women, yes women, dressed in just togas!) had already gone home, not surprising considered they arrived half locked when I was setting up the music at 9pm, just before we headed out to dinner, but we kicked the party back into gear, continuing our drunken quest to get the girls to start playing gay chicken. It was, alas, not to be ...
By 3am all the beer was gone, and all we were left with was a bottle of Rum, and no mixers, so I cut the music and we all went home!
This morning we dragged ourselves out of bed to watch a famous Irish victory in the making....but as I said before.....'nuff said about that!
Joyce arrives on Tuesday afternoon, Jill gets her mid term next Friday, and our livers will have another ten days of torture....Graham and Ais come two weeks later, and then my sis is moving to Cayman in early April. And then it really gets messy....