‘Ronan, I’m still terrified of you being sucked into that world of guns, drugs . . . non-rugby nicknames’

Forget the housing bubble, the return of the stag weekend in Europe will be all the proof we need that the Celtic Phoenix is an actual thing

Ronan rings me at some ludicrous hour. I’m like, “Ro, it’s the middle of the night.”

He goes, “It’s eleben o’clock in the morden, Rosser,” which in my world amounts to the same thing.

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