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How Not to Be A Rapist

Lads, it is not easy these days. What with the feminists and the social media and the video cameras. It is getting harder and harder to go out and have a good time without someone crying rape.

What can be done about it? How can we reset this imbalance? How can we change it to make ourselves accepted into society again? How can we stop these liberal new age ideals from crippling our ability to have a good old fashioned “laddish” time?

Read on because you are in luck. I have the answers.

Here are my credentials

I have gotten through forty-one years of my life without raping anyone. With one in four women in the world sexually assaulted or raped, that is no mean feat. That’s almost 1 BILLION women. That is a monstrous statistic. That is a serious amount of sex assaulters and rapists. How did it get to be such a big number? Most of us are alright, right?

When Ivan Payne was having his charge sheet read out to him in court nearly twenty years ago, I was sitting in the gallery looking down. There was the paedophile priest who had sexually abused me in handcuffs in front of the Irish Courts of Law. I watched in a surreal haze. I had smoked a spliff earlier in the morning to help get me through it. I felt OK. It felt like everything had come full circle.

In the aftermath I don’t remember the papers extolling his priestly virtues. I don’t remember the Catholic Church waxing lyrical about his empowering sermons or his inspirational work as a marriage guidance priest. Nobody came to the defence of this man who pleaded guilty to his sins. Aside of course, from those who were legally obliged and paid to do so.

There was no social media frenzy as it didn’t exist then. There were no rogue priests

One of the most common things people ask me is “How did I get sober?” There is no short answer. It was a long and painstaking process. It took me many years to realise I had a problem. It took me many more to ease off and transition to sobriety. I will break it down step by step.

How bad was my drinking?”

I would drink most days. I would end up in fights. I would lose things. I would wake up in places I had no idea how I got to. I would black out. I would be abusive. I would put myself in seriously harmful situations. I would gamble excessively. I would end up on drugs. I would miss days from work.

I have been blown away by the response to Dub Sub Confidential. To top off an incredible reaction to the book, I was awarded the inaugural Setanta Sports Book of The Year award. I want to say thank you for all text messages, phone calls, emails, likes, tweets, hugs, handshakes and kisses from all over the world. I am truly humbled.

Slaughterhouse Death

Growing old is a permanent thing. There is nothing to do except to prepare for the inevitable onslaught of Mother Nature. The ravaging beast of noxious Time allows none to escape. And yes you can prepare. You can slow it down. You can diet and train and exercise your intellect and body. You can go …

The last time I spoke with Pat Gilroy

Pat Gilroy stepped down as the Dublin GAA manager last week. I take my sombrero off to him as he brought the glory days back to the city. He went about his business calmly and steadily and he has to be commended for an outstanding few years work.

The last time I spoke to Pat was when he told me I was no longer involved in the senior inter-county set up with Dublin. It was October 2008.

I was working as a sales rep for Guinness out in Meath and Cavan and was just after walking out of a pub in a sleepy town called Oldcastle. The dry winter evenings were setting in. It was close to 4pm and already the sky was darkening. You could smell the turf fires being lit in cozy little homes. It smelt like Christmas was just around the corner.

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