Day 5 - Afternoon.
Well if the last few days were bad, "you ainst seen nothing yet" ,as Big Tom used to say. Was woken at 1.30 in the feckin afternoon by the sound of Marc crying, jaysus the poor garsun needs his Liga every morning and some hoor had Swiped it last night when we were out. I blame Donal Daly who is only a quarter the player of my Darragh and is dead jealous of all of us O'Se's and our medals. I called an EGM with the players to find out what was going on but found out they were training again with O'Keeffe. Feckin training will be the ruin of them. Be much more in their line to be enjoying the free holiday, we don’t get much from those mean hoors in the County Board, so enjoy it. Its fine for them to be flying around the place in first class while I am stuck sitting in the back with my players, with my knees wedged into the arse of the hoor in front of me. Not in Micko's time I tell you.

Just on the way out for the afternoon now and there are a group of players carrying out some kind of protest in the lobby of the hotel. Kerry players chanting "We only get Marieta , the O'Se's have Liga , We want the Bomber, Paidi Out" . The Bomber was nothing before we taught him how to drink way back in 1978. What has he done since, win one county championship and with a feckin Tralee team from Strand Road, not even with his own crowd. I would not piss in Strand road for they would have the steam bottled before you got a chance to shake it. What ever bit of respect we had for him is gone now, the lanky beardy hoor and me with another hangover. I tell Johnno to sort It out I have better things to be worrying about, like who stole Marc's Liga. And I told the players spokeman Liam Hassett they could all feck off. I will manage the team and will pick it based on merit. Therefore Kerry will be represented by the Gaeltacht senior team in 2003, with Darragh O'Se as Captain and yours truly as player manager probably at full back. So there.

Johnno calls a team meeting while I go fishing with my boys.

Finally while on the bus to the fishing we see the missing Ligas and we deduced that the black hoor of a bus driver Today Mulapoo took the packet saying he was hungry which was never a good excuse in my book , which I will remind you was called "I'm Paidi , dont f*ck with me" , (TM), and was better than that tripe produced by the Mouth Spillane., but all is well again, Marc wins the golf and has to pay for the beer for tonight as a prize. The moral of the afternoon is if "Today takes the f*ckin biscuit......catch the hoor and break his f*ckin fingers before he can do it again !!"

My Friend Brian Cowan rings on my lovely new Bord Failte sponsored mobile. He says there is uproar in Kerry over my comments, that I am being portrayed as some kind of racist or bigot whatever that is. What f*ckin comments I want to know the f*ckin animals there will be looking for my head again I suppose, nothing new there, good job I have thick skin as well as a thick head. F*ckin Kerry hoors are never happy , pure animals the lot of them. Something about what I said to that failed cyclist jackeen fellow Kimmage. Can he not treat a friendly chat over a few pints as a bit of craic and not be looking for a scoop all the time. Good job he didn't mention the time I gave him a bag of those auld anabollix steroids I was using on a few bullocks at home. They never seemed to work for us. Didn't do Kimmage much use on the rothar either, the useless bollix, my mother on her High-Nelly would be faster than him.

Brian in his Biffdom recomends playing the trump card, Maurice Fitz, to get us out of the shit. Jaysus I dont want him back at all. What with his tanned legs , we will have to splash out a fortune on the Gooch and MFR for fake tans to match them up with that hoor from Cahirciveen. What has he done for me lately, scoring a few points when we bring him off the bench but taking all the limelight away from my Darragh who is 3 times the man and twice the footballer. Feck it I would score half those points myself if I was sober.

Spillane also rings saying to bring back Fitz, I tell him to go f*ck himself , what in the name of Christ would he know about football, another Klingon from the glory years , you never saw me limping around the place with hamstrings and bandages. Jimmy Deenihan rings too but I don’t take the call. Martin Ferris rings to say I will be missing a kneecap if I don't issue an apology, yes Martin you a brave hoor now that you are a TD, just like Spring and Deenihan, I'm shitting.

Lifelong Friend of Fianna Fail and thus my best friend Jackie Healy Rae also rings, but even Kitty with all her 14 languages cannot figure out what the f*ck he is trying to say. I agree with him anyway to keep the party line happy. Wouldn't want to be seen pissing in Bertie's Bowl now would you, not with an election only 4 years away. Paidi O'Se, Publican, Kerry Manager, TD , Minister and King of An Gaeltacht will have a nice ring to it or should I use Padraig. Will I have to give up the Bord Failte gig for that one, must check it out with Brian.

Day 6 Morning -
Slept well, dreaming of the Dail Bar and government junkets, woke up dehydrated. Raid mini bar again. Ahhhh thats better.

Day 6 Afternoon -
Wake up refreshed with a slight hangover but at least the bags under my eyes are grand which is always a good sign of a man, that and a big arse I always say. Time to bite the bullet so I have 9 pints at thebar while I hatch my plan.

Send fax to Radio Kerry saying Fitz has signed for An Gaeltacht and will tog out for Kerry in 2003 without doing any training. 30 mins later send another fax retracting my original statement. 1 Hour later send original fax again with the foot note that Pony (Seamus Moynihan) will also join. Ring Fitz but he is on the sun bed and has poor mobile coverage. Meet Pony in the Sauna but says he will not play for Gaeltacht as long as there is an O'Se on the team so I have to send second fax again with the new footnoot that Pony will not join us and is to go off with his ex Glenflesk colleague Johnny Cash to Cork. They are welcome to him too, Pony is overrated totally in my book, "I'm Paidi, don’t f*ck with me" (TM). He was never a full back in the mould of the Great Paddy Bawn Brosnan or myself even though I played in the corner, but sure I spent half the time covering the mistakes of that langer John O'Keeffe while still holding my direct opponents to 1 point in 10 All ireland finals, a horse of a f*ckin man is what I was and I'm still covering for O'Keeffe. But that’s what happens when we have 5 selectors in Kerry who know shit about picking a team, playing a fellow at full back just because he's a good footballer. Jaysus the Bawn is spinning in the grave.

Day 6 Evening -
Mobile coverage in Kerry crashes as people ring everyone with my utter confusion, send final fax saying I had nothing to with any of the previous faxes, can't beat a cute hoor like myself for a bit of confusion by throwing the cat among the rolling stones. Maurice returns my call and I ask him would he like to be involved with us next year, he would be delighted to give it one more lash, so I tell him he will be a big asset to us carrying the water bottles at the games for the O'Se family but he will have to do some training, we can’t have the water carrier panting and collapsing after a short burst accross the pitch to give a drop of water to Tomas or Darragh. For the craic I send another fax on County board paper signed by Sean Walsh saying I have been replaced by Micko with Fungi as his assistant. That should stir it up a bit for tomorrow !!

Golf cancelled as Kitty has ran away with the Bus driver and we have no one left to pull our trolleys. Maybe we should kidnap the Gooch and force him to do it.

Day 7 Afternoon –
An easy day so stay in the cot, worn out from the pressure of my high profile job in Bord Failte.

Day 7 Evening -
The Bike Kimmage has flown out for another exclusive, agree and get him to buy an expensive dinner and drinks for the night for us in this nice fancy restaurant, then I give him a kick up the hole and tell him to pick a story out of that , the useless bollix !!

More Later....

Paidi