Dial-a-Smile is all ears for Vinny's pub sweep

AGAINST THE ODDSBY VINNY FITZPATRICKS reckoning, there was just enough time between the end of the Epsom Derby and the opening match in the European Championships to organise a sweep and sup a pint of Foleys finest.

Eight bodies were needed, of which Vinny, Macker, Brennie, Fran and Kojak were five. Looking around the lounge, Vinny hailed rheumy-eyed Jimmy, a fellow bus driver from Clontarf garage who liked a bet, nursing a whiskey on his own in the corner.

"Are you in for the sweep Jimmy?" he asked. Jimmy raised his glass and nodded.

As a seventh, Vinny suggested Angie, who was busy next door in Boru Betting totting up the Derby takings.

That left one more recruit. As the lads scratched their heads, Dial-a-Smile Denis, one of the Foley's bar staff so-called because he never smiled, shuffled up to their perch by the telly. "Seeing as how you're stuck, I'll make up the numbers," he said huffily.

Now Dial-a-Smile was despised by the lads, who agreed he was a shining example of how not to attract customers.

For starters, he suffered from that curious affliction associated with barmen - temporary deafness. It was amazing how you could never catch his ear, or his attention, when looking to order, even when you were within touching distance.

For almost 30 years, by Vinny's reckoning, Dial-a-Smile had cold-shouldered the regulars with his surly disposition.

While the lads had become immune to his truculence, what annoyed them most was his habitual vanishing act five minutes before closing time when he'd slap a towel on the stout taps and nip out for a fag.

Yet whenever a well-heeled, and often well-oiled, crew rolled in late from Mozart's restaurant next door, he'd beam a welcoming smile and happily pull pints and mix shorts well past midnight. He was, without doubt, a miserable git.

"Now, here he is, making out that he's a friend of ours. What a nerve," thought Vinny.

The sweep was simple; for a score a head, you drew two teams in the Euro finals. "A hundred and twenty for the winner, 40 for the runner-up, okay?" suggested Macker. The others nodded in agreement.

Before you could say "okey-dokey", the draw unfolded. Vinny felt an old familiar tingle in his fingertips as Macker did the honours. "I've missed this," he said to himself.

With the National Hunt and Premier League in cold storage, Vinny's gambling activity had eased off in recent weeks, which wasn't a bad thing as he'd begun to run up more losers than not.

He was stumped to pinpoint why his touch had deserted him but felt, on balance, his concentration levels had not been helped by his dalliance with Angie, which had taken up far more of his time than expected - not that he was complaining.

Thankfully, things were about to heat up on the betting front. The next three weeks were chock-a-block with gambling goodies - the European Championships, US Open golf, Wimbledon and Ascot, not forgetting the GAA season. Vinny was sure he wouldn't be found wanting.

The draw unfolded with military precision as Macker scrunched up eight balls of paper, on which were written the names of the eight runners, into an empty pint glass. In another, he had the names of the 16 finalists. "Right, let's go. Vinny, do one glass, I'll do the other," he said.

First out was Brennie, who let out a squeal of joy. "Control yourself Brennie," ordered Macker as he extracted two bits of paper from the other glass containing the teams. "Spain and Greece," he said. "They'll do me grand," said Brennie rubbing his hands together.

And so it continued. Kojak landed the Czechs and Romania, Fran was drawn with France and Sweden, while Jimmy - "Shanghai" Jimmy to Vinny after his exploits in the Banana Cup - got the Swiss and the Turks.

"Not a snowball's chance in hell," he muttered, flinging a 20 on the table in disgust.

That left Macker, Angie, Dial-a-Smile and Vinny. Angie was next. "Croatia and Russia," said Macker. "A lot of quality sides still left lads," enthused Brennie.

Macker's name was plucked from the glass. "Vinny, you pick my teams. I don't want any allegations of skulduggery," he said. Vinny did the honours. "Portugal and Austria," he said solemnly.

By now, Dial-a-Smile was peering over from behind the bar. "Look at him, hovering like a praying mantis," hissed Fran.

There were four teams left, Poland, Germany, Italy and Holland, and two runners, Dial-a-Smile and Vinny, who was next up. "Poland and Italy for you Vinny," intoned Macker.

"Hey, Denis," he shouted to the bar. "That leaves you with Germany and Holland, did you get that?"

"Yeah, loud and clear," said Dial-a-Smile, as he turned away, the semblance of a grin on his lips.

"Amazing, how he can hear us from 20 feet but not from five, isn't it?" grumbled Kojak loudly.

But Dial-a-Smile didn't bite. He was busy, or rather preoccupied, placing out beer mats on the bar counter, which he did with deliberation and care.

Macker ordered a round and the gang settled down to see Switzerland play the Czech Republic in the opening game.

"Lads, strap yourselves in as there are two games a day for the next 12 days," said a joyful Vinny.

Some six hours, and eight rounds later, six middle-aged men tumbled out of Foley's on to the seafront at Clontarf.

Kojak and Macker were on a high as the Czechs and Portugal had won their first game while Shanghai Jimmy, dejected that both his teams had lost, was being consoled by Brennie.

That left Vinny and Fran together. It had been several weeks since Vinny spotted his old friend holding hands with an attractive young lady in the Botanic Gardens.

The incident still rankled. What should he do?

Fortified by stout, Vinny dived in. "Fran, look if you're having an affair, it's all right with me," he gushed.

There was a silence. Fran stopped, turned and looked at Vinny. "An affair? Me? Where are you coming from Vinny?" he said, his voice rising perceptibly.

"Er, nowhere really. I just thought you should know that I know and that I've no problem with it. I mean, it's a free world and all that," blurted Vinny.

By now Macker had joined them, the same Macker whose sister was married to Fran. "Great night lads, just like the old days," he said clamping his arms around the shoulders of his friends. "You okay Fran? You seem a bit peaky."

Fran glanced at Macker, then at Vinny. "I'm fine, just fine. Look, I think I'll walk home on my own, clear the head. Catch you during the week."

With that, Fran tottered off, a touch unsteadily, leaving unanswered questions dangling in the warm June air in Dublin 3.

Bets of the Week

1pt ew Padraig Harrington in US Open (25/1, Ladbrokes)´

3pts Robert Karlsson to be top Scandinavian at US Open (11/4, Paddy Power)

Vinny's Bismarck

1pt Lay Tiger Woods to win US Open (7/2, general, liability 3.5 pts)