Eoin Butler: writer, journalist and Mayoman of the Year
Tripping Along The Ledge
break for the border
“The nets are looking great. The markings all seem to go in straight lines…”
I can’t think of a whole lot else to say to the guy. “There’d be some in this club wouldn’t think twice about playing a match after it pissing down for a fortnight,” he spits. “Then they want to know why the surfaces are cut to shit!” He sniggers bitterly. Read the rest of this article here.
They say the guy has a metal plate in his head…
Now I don’t know if that’s true or not. But once, when we got caught out in a thunderstorm, I noticed him sprinting for the clubhouse in a manic, zigzag pattern – like a soldier dodging sniper fire… Read the rest of this article here.
Break for the Border
It’s Thursday night in Break for the Border, a sprawling open-plan bar on split levels. There are pool tables and waitresses in hot pants. Rock and roll blasting from the speakers. Yee-haw! Why the hell haven’t I been here before?
Aidan wants to play pool. I hate pool. He always beats me. We find a table. Read the rest of this entry »