AGAINST THE ODDS:"YOU KNOW what Vinny, so much depends on the sex." Vinny Fitzpatrick almost spilled his cup of milky tea at Angie's mention of the forbidden word, one which he was never entirely comfortable with, especially not when he was trying to concentrate on the racing from Longchamp, writes RODDY L'ESTRANGE

It was a Sunday afternoon and Vinny had resisted the temptation to join the lads for a slurping session in Foley’s, to stay put instead for a pot roast dinner with his loving wife, Angie, heavily pregnant with twins.

In Grand National parlance, Angie was over Valentine’s Brook for the second time and heading towards the Melling Road.

In eight weeks’ time, possibly less as twins were notorious early arrivals, all would be changed utterly in the predictable world of the portly 51-year-old bus driver.

Angie, 10 younger, had been down this route before with Emma, now 16 and blossoming into a stunner but for Vincent Finbarr Aloysius Fitzpatrick, this was his one, and only shot, at fatherhood.

At first, the notion of becoming a dad had frightened the wits out of him but now he was quite receptive to the idea; he’d even got his head around the fact that he would be likened to a granddad when the kids were starting school.

That was down the road a bit; today was about being an attentive husband and attentive racing fan, especially as the runners were leaving the parade ring for the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe.

The world and its mother were backing Sea The Stars but Vinny had laid the colt and would be down a ton on his Betfair account if the horse succeeded where the legendary Nijinsky, among other thoroughbreds of the turf, had failed.

As the runners began to load up Vinny was happily ensconced in the front room, the sports pages of the Sunday papers on his lap, mug of tea to hand and a plateful of Jaffa cakes within reach.

Hearing Angie’s provocative remarks, he stood up quickly, papers and crumbs of biscuit falling to the floor. “Er, everything all right love?’ he said. “You’re not suggesting anything too energetic in your condition now are you?” he said.

Angie looked up from the kitchen table. “Keep what little hair you have on Vinny. I want to get a handle on possible names for the babies, that’s all,’ she said.

“Let’s watch the Arc and then get down to work. I can’t see See The Stars being touched, can you?”

Vinny mumbled something about their being no certainties in racing, especially in a big-race field at the end of a long season, and then watched, in half-dismay, half-wonder, as Sea The Stars bolted in.

His misery at losing €100 was eased, only slightly, by knowing he had witnessed one of the great equine displays in the history of Flat racing.

“What about Michael or John in honour of the jockey or trainer?” he suggested half-heartedly as he sat down beside Angie in the kitchen where two large sheets of paper and two pencils were placed.

“Right,” said Angie. “Let’s do some brainstorming for 20 minutes and see what we come up with. Then, we’ll make a democratic decision, which we can review if I don’t like it,” she added with a flashing smile.

Vinny sat down and, suddenly, the enormity of what he was about to do hit him. This wasn’t like the Fantasy Football teams he named in Foley’s, like “Forever Everton” and “Blues Soon Rising”, this was for real.

He was about to come up with a name; make that two names, for two little persons. As he and Angie hadn’t an inkling of what sex the twins were, he had to think of two boys’ names, two girls’ names, and one of each.

Vinny’s family were all old-style Irish; his dad was Finbarr, his mother Bridie, his sisters were Mary and Bernie. He had an uncle Séamus, an aunt Annie and a batch of cousins, including the bould Con from Cork.

Should he stick with the Gaelic trend? He wasn’t sure they were popular any more but then, what did that matter? Running names around his head, he decided to draw a line through those names which might lead to confusion.

That ruled out Ray and Roy, Colm and Colin, Aidan and Aiden and any form of Ciarán or Kieran. Kathleen was also tricky as it was too like Catherine, Caitlin and Kate.

He also discounted names which were like surnames so Ryan and Rogan were out, Carroll and Quinlan too.

And he detested those ridiculous names which celebrities, thinking they were being smart, saddled their kids with, such as Fifi, Peaches, Pixie, Brooklyn and Zowie.

He looked at his blank sheet of paper. “This isn’t easy,” he thought to himself. Angie was scribbling furiously and he hadn’t come up with anything.

Scrunching his brow, he made a note to avoid a name that might provide comic relief. He knew of a family called Hamm who’d called their child Ethan, and didn’t see the funny side of things.

You couldn’t make a mess with a surname like Fitzpatrick, bar Patrick, and even that was acceptable, he thought.

He considered the American names which were popular; most of them with biblical undertones like Jacob and Joshua, Nathan and Noah; Abigail, Sophia and Isabella. “Angie might go for something like that, not me,” he thought.

“Five minutes Vinny. Will you please put something down?” said Angie in a slightly vexed tone.

Beads of sweat formed on Vinny’s brow. He kept ruling names out; why couldn’t he rule any in? He thought of the lads, Fran, Macker, Shanghai, Kojak and Brennie. Four of them were known by their nicknames, two of them by shortened names. “Keep it simple,” he thought. “And try not to go for a name that can be abbreviated.”

“Sixty seconds,” hissed Angie. The clock ticking, Vinny finally got to work. He wrote down two names if the twins were boys, two names if they were girls, and two names if they were one of each.

Twenty seconds later, he put down his pencil, pushed the piece of paper across to Angie and stood up. “That wasn’t hard at all, was it love? I’ll put the kettle on,” he said.

Angie quickly gathered up Vinny’s page. After a bit, she whistled. “I wasn’t expecting that,” she said. “I was sure you’d go for a sporty theme or something straight from the bacon and cabbage bible. But these aren’t bad, aren’t bad at all.”

Vinny smiled and said nothing. In less than two months, the arrivals would be delivered in the Rotunda Hospital.

“Will it be Bill and Ben? Jack and Jill? Or Lily and Rose? Who knows?” thought Vinny. “But on the day they are born I know I’ll see the stars.”

Bets of the week

3ptsIreland to draw with Italy in World Cup (2/1, general)

1ptLondon Irish to win Heineken Cup (20/1, Victor Chandler)

Vinny's Bismark

1ptLay Sergio Garcia to win Madrid Masters (8/1, Sporting Bet, liability 8pts)