‘If I’ve learned one thing,’ the late, great Father Fehily used to say, ‘it’s that life, families and rugby balls don’t always behave the way you want them to!’ Looking at my life, I’d have to say, the dude wasn’t wrong. My old man had been caught rigging a General Election. My old dear was about to become a seventy-year-old mother of six. And Honor was walking around in a yellow rain mac, telling everyone that the end of the world was coming. It was enough to drive a man to the brink. The only simple thing in my life was my new job as the Head Coach of Presentation College Bray – which is saying something given that I had to try to turn a collection of jokers, chokers and forty-a-day smokers into a team capable of winning the school’s first Leinster Schools Senior Cup in nearly ninety years. And while Father Fehily would have been spinning in his grave, I soon found myself falling in love – with the town I loathed.