Ross O'Carroll-Kelly

“Okay,” I go, “today we’re going to work on one or two moves from this sacred text,” and I show the players my famous Rugby Tactics Book.There are no gasps from the kids, even though there are a lot of rugby coaches out there who would kill to get their hands on it.Yeah, no, they all just roll their eyes, probably pissed off at being asked to train in Herbert Pork on New Year’s Day....irishtimes.com

Sorcha’s old dear has a scream on her like Wayne Bornes’s whistle. Sorcha’s old man is like, “What in the name of God?” and we all rush into the living room – we’re talking me, Sorcha and, like I said, her old man – to see her standing there with the famous Elf on the Shelf in her hand.

“Mee, meh, mah, moh, moo,” Sorcha goes – and not for the first time since we left Dublin. “Mee, meh, mah, moh, moo.” And I’m there, “Don’t worry – I’ll, em, let you know when that gets annoying.” She goes, “I’m doing my vocal exercises, Ross. This is a huge night for us.”

The old man says he doesn’t think he’ll bother with Christmas this year – “what with everything”. By which he means, what with it being the first one since the old dear – yeah, no – pegged it. Sorcha goes, “Oh my God, Chorles, Fionnuala was such a Christmas person. She’d want you to celebrate it.”

Sorcha is in her – literally? – element. She goes, “This is gorgeous, isn’t it?” This being the humungous Christmas morket in – believe it or not – Belfast. Honor’s there, “I still don’t understand what we’re even doing here?” And Sorcha’s like, “Honor, we may end up living in a united Ireland one day. And what do we know about our brothers and sisters from the North?” “They’re very angry,” Johnny goes.

Ronan shows up at the front door wearing a Santa hat and a big smile. I’m there, “What are you, drunk?” because I’m aware that the Ireland soccer team had some kind of result at the weekend.