Once more with feeling

A Breaffy Man in Castlebar
Once more with feeling

Edwin McGreal

One last weekend of freedom. Returning to college in Galway this week, it won’t be long until I have my jar of change cashed in to buy notebooks or pay for €5 diesel to, hopefully, carry me home to Breaffy of a Friday.
No weekly wage coming in any more will be a bit of a hit to me but I’ve had to live a frugal life before so it should come back to me shortly.
Right being right I should be living a frugal lifestyle for the past few months, putting away what I can. But a fool and his money are easily parted and of course I went through August with the intention of letting September take care of itself. I am, of course, reminded of last week’s column where I told of my uncle telling me money is for spending and not minding.
So with the frugal lifestyle ahead of me, I splurged last weekend.
Friday night saw the usual thing happen of a night out in Castlebar – go for three or four pints was the plan but always ending up in Cox’s until the wee hours.
We went one better the last night when two of us went to the new card club in town at 3am. After a nice fill of drink the last thing you want to be doing is betting.
But luck was on our side and we both left with more than we went in with. No doubt we’ll probably give it back over time.
Saturday night brought us to Westport but with a game on the Sunday morning, I took the car. Going out in Ireland and not drinking is something a friend of mine has mastered over time. But easy it isn’t.
And it’s not that people need drink as a crutch. No, after Saturday night in Westport, I can definitely conclude that people need drink for an altogether more basic reason – to avoid going out of their mind.
Some of the seafórd I had to listen to on Saturday night in the Castlecourt was beyond belief. And ferrying some of the crew home afterwards was worse again. Being asked the same question ten times stops being funny after about the third go. Clearly I don’t realise this half as much when I’ve a few pints myself. Or maybe I’m as bad as them? But I doubt it – sure there is no way I could be annoying or a nuisance, is there?
So home I get, six hours sleep, and off to play a match. And was I better off for not drinking? Barely. The six or seven Cokes I stupidly drank had me hung over. And I was as tired as if I was out on the tiles all night long.
But it was a good weekend to finish on. I’ll not see a night out til Christmas now. There’ll be no drinking for this student in Galway.
Sure I won’t be able to afford it!