Ross O'Carroll Kelly

‘It might surprise you, Ross, but quite a number of people – your godfather included – are of the view that a Charles O’Carroll-Kelly presidency is just what the country needs’

HOW’S SEAN FITZPATRICK’S old car running, the old man wants to know.

I’m like, “Fine,” because it’s quicker all round just to give him an answer.

“Because he still asks for it, you know. Just the other day, in fact, on the difficult fifth hole in Delgany. ‘How’s that old car of mine running?’ says our friend.”

“I already told you it was running fine. I mean, yeah, I end up taking a fair bit of abuse for it. People shouting shit at me in the street. Wanker, traitor, blahdy blah. I pulled up at the lights outside the dole office in Dún Laoghaire last week and someone tried to drag me out on to the road through the window on the passenger side.”

“Good lord!”

“Hey, it’s no worse than what I had to put up with when I, like, was captaining Castlerock back in the day. I actually don’t mind being a bit, I don’t know, notorious?”

This is us standing over the shredder, by the way, feeding documents into it. We’re coining it in, by the way. We’ve done nine, like, pick-ups already today and we’re wiping the floor with Slash Byrne, Des Troy Evidence and the rest of the opposition.

“Oh, it’s well I remember,” he goes, “what you went through to win that senior cup medal. Do you remember a couple of nights before the final, you and the chaps were accused of wrapping the Newbridge College coach’s car in – what’s this they call it – cling-film?”

I laugh. “I had to get Hennessy to send one of his world famous solicitor’s letters,” he goes, “to stop the school making in public the same accusations they made on the telephone to me.”

I’m like, “Well, it’s probably only fair that I tell you then – it was actually me.” “What?” “Me and Oisinn. We did it to, like, fock with their heads. Destroy them mentally before they even went out on to the field.” This all news to him, of course, and I can see that he’s, like, struggling with it.

“But why did you deny it at the time? You said you were in your room the whole time, cramming – for your Irish oral, wasn’t it?”

“That’s because I knew you’d buy it – and I knew you’d defend me, like the sap you are.”

“Oh, well,” he just goes. It’s very difficult to actually hurt my old man, much as I try. “I suppose the point I was trying to make still stands. You have to be prepared to suffer the brickbats and the whatnots if you want to lead . . . ”

He’s shaping up to tell me something. I just know it. He’s grinning like a focking axe-killer. “Go on,” I go, “spit it out.”

He’s like, “Well, do you remember a few months back, all that talk of your old dad here running to become Dublin’s first directly elected lord mayor?”

“Not really. A lot of the time when you think I’m listening to you, I’m actually just nodding while focusing on a point in the distance. I’ve become a pretty much yoga master ignoring you over the years.”

“Well, Kicker, it turns out that I have a confession of my own to make. The lord mayor business was nothing more than a smokescreen. No, the real prize I’m after in something far greater. Ross, I put out a press release yesterday to the effect that Charles O’Carroll-Kelly intends seeking a nomination to run for the presidency.”

That gets my instant attention. “The presidency?” I go. “The presidency of what?” He looks at me like the answer should be somehow obvious. “The presidency of Ireland, of course.”

I laugh so hord, I end up nearly herniating myself. “I thought you were going to say the presidency of the golf club! The presidency of Ireland? You? Want to be the president of basically Ireland?”

“It might surprise you, Ross, but quite a number of people – your godfather included – are of the view that a Charles O’Carroll-Kelly presidency is just what the country needs at this, well, uncertain juncture in our history.”

“Er, what are you even talking about?”

“Well, positivity, Ross. It’s spirits lifted. That’s what I’m all about, isn’t it? You saw me on the Frontline a few weeks ago, telling Pat Kenny to stop referring to the current economic crisis and start calling it what it really is – the current economic challenge!”

“You were booed. Didn’t someone try to throw a dig at you?”

“Oh, I’ll win people around, don’t you worry about that, with my message of hope. Yes, we’re in something of an – inverted commas – bind. But look on the bright side. We’ve got the IMF in, giving us a dig-out, plus we’ve got Nama, looking after some of the poor unfortunates out there who’ve lost almost everything through no fault of their own. No, it’s time Ireland stopped focusing on the negative and put its best face forward.”

“And you’re our best face? Jesus, I’ve seen better faces when I’ve picked roadkill off my cor tyres.”

“I hear the note of caution you’re sounding, Ross, and it’s respectfully noted. Oh, I know what you’re thinking. You’re worried that my deciding to run for public office is going to mean it’s open season on your old dad. The papers will be picking through my past life, looking for something, anything, to use as a stick with which to beat me . . . ”

“Er, you did two-and-a-half-years in the clink for bribing county councillors. They won’t have to dig too deep.”

“But I’ve got broad shoulders, Ross. I can take it.” It’s at that exact point that his phone rings. It’s Hennessy – I can just tell by the way his face lights up when he answers. “Ah, my election agent! I’m just in the process, old scout, of winning over a key voter here!” and that’s when I watch his face turn suddenly serious.

He listens for a bit, then he storts, like, shaking his head, giving it, “No! No, they can’t! Surely even our press would never stoop so low! But that was years ago!” I’m straight away laughing, even though I don’t know what it is yet.

Maybe he was right – he’s already succeeded in lifting my spirits.

Anyway, this continues for the next five minutes or so, then he hangs up, looking, it has to be said, as sick as I’ve ever seen him.

“Go on,” I go, “this should be hilarious.”

“You remember when I was elected to Dún Laoghaire-Rathdown County Council?” he goes. “Well, I did an interview during the campaign. It was, I should add, an academic, hypothetical and intellectual discussion, during which I just so happened to mention that I thought the unemployed should be allowed to have only one child, like in China. And now several newspapers seem determined to twist my words completely out of context.”

rossocarrollkelly.ie, twitter.com/rossock