This afternoon we took the children with us to the local Irish pub to watch Ireland play Argentina in the quarter finals of the Rugby World Cup. They knew my dad was at the match, so I thought we could interest them by keeping an eye out for him.
We got there, found seats with a good view and ordred our drinks. Fairly quickly Number One was bored and sulky. Number Three was mesmerised by the flickering of the screen. Number Two, however, was a bundle of excitement and gave us a running commentary. The. Whole. Way. Through. The. Match.
“The Argentina one hurt his nose”.
“Do you see that fat one with the fat face? He has camouflage trousers”.
“Did you see the leprechaun?”
“I can’t see Grandad”.
“The blue one pushed the green one because he thought he had the ball”.
“Why is there grass growing inside a house? A stadium is a house”.
In response to my pointing out the president of Ireland: “Who? The one with hair growing out his ears?”
“I think I am up for Argentina”.
At bedtime, four hours after the match ended: “Did Ireland lose?”
7 thoughts on “My Son The Rugby Commentator”
Takes after his Godmother, always lots to say!
Eactly. And like his mother's godmother and his godmother's mother too 🙂
Haha at least you knew what was happening?? #ftmob
Brilliant – love the running commentary throughout and yet having to be informed of the result several hours later! I love the logic about a stadium being a house! Thanks for sharing with #ftmob 🙂
Exactly! I hardly needed to watch it at all 🙂
He is such a funny little fellow. He comes out with the best lines, mostly entirely naiively.
Awww it is !lovely to here the children full of life X