In Friday’s Hospital Pass, we consider the big-money haul of Darren Clarke last weekend, and speculate on the reasons Conal Keaney was whizzing around the city on a motorbike this morning.
Darren Clarke was the toast of all Ireland last Sunday evening when he won the British Open golf championship at Sandwich in Kent.
But if there was one household which was celebrating more ardently than most, it was that of Darren Clarke.
Not the home of the golfer himself, but his namesake, the Louth footballer who’s slightly smaller and slightly balder than the big guy from Dungannon.
He may well be slightly poorer, too, but while Darren Clarke (golfer) was pocketing approximately £900,000, Darren Clarke (footballer) was happy just to land €900 after a bet on his alter-ego.
“He was big odds and I knew he had won another tournament recently so I just said why not? Because he’s my namesake I’ve always had a bit of interest in him and in fairness he played great over the four days. He really kept his nerve and cool when it mattered.
“I’ve backed him a few times before but this was the first time he has won when I’ve had money on him. I was delighted to get him at the price I did but the main reason I went for him was because of the conditions.
“It was scheduled to be bad and playing in Northern Ireland, he’d be used to that. I knew he was a great driver of the ball in wind and rain so I said to myself it was worth an each-way bet.”
What happened Conal?
It’s fair to say we were all shocked when the news filtered through on Friday lunchtime that Conal Keaney, the Dublin hurling star who carried plenty of his county’s hopes going into Sunday’s All-Ireland quarter-final against Limerick, had been involved in a motorcycle accident on his way to work and will miss the game due to the injuries he sustained.
We were all shocked, but no more than the JOE staff member who lives on the same road as Keaney and, he says, he doesn’t even drive a motorbike. He drives a Renault, apparently.
So what exactly was Conal doing on a motorbike in the city this morning, 48 hours or so before probably the biggest hurling match of his life?
Maybe he was a pillion passenger. Maybe he was auditioning for the part of James Dean in a new low-budget biopic – you can imagine a denim-jacketed, cigarette-smoking Keaney standing over a free at Croker on a Sunday afternoon.
Or maybe he lives a secret second life as a parcel courier.
Who knows…
