The other day I was in a bar watching a rugby world cup game, and… did I hear right? Do the French really have a player named “Remy Martin”? Anyway. Maybe I was tired, maybe it was the beer. But I could have sworn this is the rest of the commentary as I heard it on TV:

“Thank you for joining us, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Stade de Plonk in Paris for tonight’s exciting Rugby World Booze-Up encounter between France and Ireland: two nations with a long and proud history of blood, sweat and beers.
“With me in the stadium to comment on this alcoholic encounter is former England superstar, Carling Black. Carling, what are your predictions for tonight’s booze-up?”

“Well, you could say it’s a clash between Old and New World Alcoholism. France, of course, is famous for its fine wines, but let’s not forget it also produces a wealth of potent after-dinner beverages that can burn holes through even the toughest defence. Ireland, on the other hand, tends to favour beer over spirits, but can still unleash the occasional mean whiskey to provide that extra fire-power where it matters most. It’s anyone’s guess really…”

“Thanks Carling. For those of you just joining now, we’re already in the 15th measure of the first half-litre, and so far it must be said the French have shown plenty of spirit – not least, in the form of captain Remy Martin, now on his 115th cup for Les Bleues (in fact, it’s a wonder he can still even stand at all)…
“Let’s go live now, and France have just ordered another round. Up goes Courvoisier, that giant of a cognac from the Bercy province near Paris, who taps it down to France’s tot-glass scrum half, Pernod. From Pernod it’s out to Cointreau, and we all know what a punch this fiery liqueur made from orange peels can pack…”

“That’s right, Bob: it’s an absolutely lethal combination between the two, and the Irish three-quarter pints seem to be momentarily slaughtered by the unexpected, intoxicating rush. But Ireland is nonetheless putting up a stout defence, spearheaded by Guinness and Murphy, both of whom have somehow managed to keep their heads despite the intensely volatile French pressure…”

“You said it, Carling. And what an important tackle Murphy just made, combining with Guinness to form a wedge of lemon which dashed Pernod’s run to a halt. But the French Brandy brothers, Calvados and Armagnac, are there in support… and now it’s Anisette with the ball… Anisette… feeds out to Cointreau… Cointreau tries a little dummy past Baileys, but OOOOH! That’s a glass-shattering challenge from the cream of Irish rugby, and Cointreau is well and truly downed in one. The French attack appears to have suddenly evaporated, and it’s all Ireland at the moment: But what’s this? The referee is having a word with his assistant barmen. Looks like he’s about to order a refill… and yes, indeed: That’s the end of the game for Cointreau, who’s taken off the shelf, with Grenadine coming on as temporary booze replacement…”

“What a shame. In purely rugby terms, that’s what we call a ‘Brain Damage’: Happened to me in ’78 when I was taken out in the quarterfinal by Italy’s number 8, Molinari Sambuca. Had a slippery nipple for three whole weeks…”

“One second, Carling, ‘cos we’re back live now, and Ireland are still in possession. Seems the referee has penalised France for pulling Guinness. They’ve taken it quickly, and that’s a well-worked forward mixture there, with Jameson leading the pack supported by Soda and Lime – that classic blend of single malt that worked so well against Italy’s Nastro Azzurri last week – and suddenly Ireland appear to be back in business, propping up the bar with a series of searching orders that have the French backline desperately trying to get their bottles in order. But what’s this? Kilkenny has broken away from the queue, and is making a bold dash for the Gents. One quick dummy, and – I can’t believe this – Kilkenny’s clear! A little misty, perhaps, and a bit too heavy on the Hops, but absolutely clear for a unopposed run all the way down the South Park to score! Hang on… looks like French substitute three-quarters Ricard, Pastis and Chartreuse have just poured onto the pitch from the sidelines, and … Oh my god, they’ve Killed Kenny!

“What can I say? The crowd’s going wild here at the Stade de Plonk. There’s broken glass all over the pitch, Ireland are calling for a new keg, and the referee has just asked to consult the video maitre d’ for a final consignment. With all this jeering and boozing in the background it’s hard to tell exactly what’s really happening… but the whistle’s gone, and it looks like Ireland have just been awarded a free pint. Can they take advantage of this to claim a surprise lead before closing time? Looks like they’re about to make yet another substitution: yes, it’s Caffreys warming up on the side...

“Personally, Bob, I like Caffreys better when chilled. But there’s no doubt that even at room temperature, Caffreys can hit those places other boozers can’t reach…”

“Hang on, Carling, it looks like he’s taken a quick tap… Oh my goodness! He’s just poured himself a big one while the French were still arguing over who was going to settle the bill! Down the hatch it goes, and looks like Ireland have recovered from their early sobriety to claim a late lead in the sozzled stakes. Can the French come back from here? The fans don’t seem to think so. Caffrey’s quickly taken pint has stunned them into silence, and they watch in dismay as the Irish lurch, heave and vomit all over the pitch, while their own side can’t even manage to stagger even slightly out of the line-out.
“And there can’t be much left in it now, either. The referee is looking at his watch… and that’s it! The bell goes for Last Orders!

“My word, what a grand finale we’re having here. Suddenly there’s a mad scramble in the Irish defence, as France have just brought on their super-sub: Absinthe. The fans are now going wild, cheering on for “La Fee Verte” - The Green Fairy, as this killer spirit is fondly (and somewhat misleadingly) known.
“The Irish, of course, are objecting, with their captain Guinness arguing that Absinthe was formally banned from the sport for containing a psycho-active agent procured from wormwood barrels in which it was traditionally stored. Meanwhile, doubts also remain over his eligibility to play for France, having originally been brewed in Switzerland as an elixir or ‘tincture’. But the referee is having none of it, and even as the Irish argue, Remy Martin, Courvoisier, Pernod and Grenadine have already combined with Absinthe for one final killer cocktail to knock themselves senseless in a single gulp. Can Ireland produce anything special to maintain their slender lead?
“Maybe they can. Seems the Irish centre half-pint has just produced a cigarette and is about to light up – it’s an open air stadium, there’s nothing they can do to stop him – and … KER-BLAAAAM! That’s it folks! All the alcohol has ignited from the French cocktail in one sheet of flame, leaving nothing but a sickly sweet concoction of caramelised sugar and smouldering, tasteless, odourless liquid. The whistle goes, and it’s all over! Final score: France mildly tipsy – Ireland completely smashed off their faces!...”

Well, what can I say? It was an exciting match. Never realised that rugby commentating was such thirsty work, either. Now where did that barman go…?