Memories flood back as Vinny bids adieu

AGAINST THE ODDS: IT WAS the night before the nuptials and Vinny Fitzpatrick shuffled about his unassuming house in Clontarf, where he was born and raised, for the last time as a bachelor.

His gait was not light, rather ponderous, as he went from room to room with a wistful smile, the reason for which had something to do with the gallon of porter and large curried chips swirling around in his capacious stomach.

The earlier foray to Foley's, where the lads gave him a fine send-off, had followed a long day in Angie's where, among many other things, he had been given his suit for the following day's wedding, and warned not to be late for the 2pm tee-off at the registry office.

As he bid adieu to his abode, Vinny peeked inside the tallboy in his parents' bedroom, where he spied a battered old Scrabble box, which he dusted off and placed on the bed.

Opening the lid, he noticed the scores had been scribbled down in pencil on a notepad, and were accompanied by comments in the handwriting of his old man, Finbarr.

"Mam too good for me tonight," said one. "Got lucky with the X, Z, and J," was another. He smiled, observing how his mother, Bridie, had comfortably won more games than his dad.

Back in his own room, he eased down on one knee and peered under the bed, where his old toys were kept.

Soon, he was surrounded by the remnants of a railway set, Subbuteo, Monopoly, a giant poster of Jeff Astle, a cluster of Shoot! magazines and, improbably, a tattered Teddy bear.

"Ah, Roosevelt. 'Tis many a night I was glad of your company," he said, clutching his comforter of youth.

"Like me, you've seen better days," he thought, noting how his old friend was missing an eye and was split open down the back.

Heaving himself up on his bed, he brought Roosevelt with him, for old time's sake. Then, curling up in a foetal position, Teddy bear held tight to his portly chest, Vinny fell into a deep sleep.

Saturday morning dawned crisp and bright and Vinny took a hot bath as per Angie's instructions, making sure he attended the usual suspects with a soapy sponge - under the arms, the back of his neck and, especially, his feet.

He had just started to clip his toe-nails, with moderate success as bits of shrapnel were flying off in all directions, when the doorbell rang. It was Macker.

"Time for the hangman's breakfast, me old mucker," he said as he embraced his friend.

"Now, show me your finest frying pan," he added, marching into the tiny kitchenette.

By the time Vinny had dressed himself in the hired suit Angie had picked out, complete with starched collar and a dickie-bow, which he thought unnecessary, Macker had called "grub's up".

And what a feast it was: sizzling Superquinn sausages, crispy Galtee bacon and rounds of Clonakilty black and white pudding, topped off by a couple of fried eggs, fried bread, brown sauce and a pot of tea.

"I want to get hanged every day," grinned Vinny as he dipped his fork into a egg, sending the runny yolk squirting out on his plate.

"Hold your horses," said Macker. "Vinny, you're a dribbler at the best of times. Now put on a jumper to cover that nice white shirt of yours."

Vinny did as told and then opened up with gusto. By his own estimation, he polished off half a dozen sausages, four rashers and made sure the last of Macker's pudding didn't go to waste.

"What would we do without our old friend the porker," he sighed happily, before unleashing a burp which rattled the windows. "Gesundheit," he said sheepishly.

It wasn't yet noon and there were two hours to kill before kick-off at the registry office in Sir Patrick Dun's Hospital, Lower Grand Canal Street. "Time for a snifter," said Macker, brandishing a bottle of Famous Grouse from his trenchcoat.

Vinny hesitated, as Angie had warned him not to have a pint before the ceremony. A whiskey isn't a pint, he thought to himself. Besides, a little Dutch courage wouldn't go amiss. Macker poured two fingers' worth each into a couple of cut glasses which Vinny's old man had won playing bridge many years ago. "Sláinte," said the groom-to-be, knocking back the amber nectar in one slug.

"Another?" offered Macker with a sly grin.

"Sure, why not?" replied Vinny.

An hour later, and the bottle was empty while both tummies, in particular Vinny's, were full.

"C'mon, let's get a wriggle on. It's nearly one o'clock," said Macker.

In the taxi ride into town, Vinny felt his insides rattle and hum. It was nothing new, except that he was used to the sensation late at night, not at lunch-time.

They arrived at the registry office at twenty to two, which pleased Vinny as he hated being late. Inside it was warm, unpleasantly so, thought Vinny, as he and Macker took their positions in the front row.

By five to two, Vinny had met all his well-wishers, from his beaming sisters, Bernie and Mary - not to mention her insufferable husband Bungalow Bob - to Fran, Brennie, Shanghai Jimmy, Kojak and Socket, his boss from the Clontarf bus depot.

By now, Vinny could feel himself sweating. He wasn't the type to glow, or perspire; rather, he sweated, great flowing rivers of the stuff. He could feel the shirt sticking to his lower back and his neck, and didn't dare imagine what was going on in his armpits.

His stomach was starting to heave, his could feel his heart hopping and his breath had quickened. "This isn't nerves," he said to himself. "I feel lousy."

As he bowed his head, praying the sensations would pass, he heard Handel's The Queen of Sheba play and knew that was the cue for Angie's arrival.

"Good God, what a time to get Moby Dick," he mumbled.

Vinny's head was spinning, he was gasping for air and his stomach was churning. As Angie drew level, his head turned towards her but his legs didn't respond.

Aware of a vision in pale pink with what looked like a helicopter of feathers stuck to her dark hair, he opened his mouth, said nothing, and crumpled heavily to the floor with a resounding, 16st thud.

1pt e.w. Darren Clarke in Australian Open (33/1, Totesport)

1pt e.w. Won In The Dark in Boylesport International Hurdle (40/1, Coral)

2pt Lay Real Madrid to beat Zenit St Petersburg (Evens, general, liability 2pts)