A few weekends ago I was able to make my way down to London on a whim and stopped in on an old friend to catch a Six Nations rugby match. I knew this friend since the time I studied in Ireland at University College Dublin, back in 2004. Oddly enough, that was one of the years the Irish won the Six Nations trophy, but I'm sure superstition had nothing to do with him inviting me along to the match. (Probably.)
The thing I remember most about Six Nations that year was, after the Irish victory, a giant tarp with a picture of team captain Brian O'Driscoll hung very prominently along Grafton Street. When the commentators announced his name in the starting lineup, then, it was a pleasant little surprise. "I would have thought he'd retired by now," I told my friend.
"Yeah, he's getting up there," my friend admitted. "But he can't have been that old when you were in Dublin."
"Well, he was definitely already the captain," I said.
"Oh. Then he must be old," said my friend. "That was . . ." and then he calculated in his head. "Seven years ago."
I immediately flashed back to one night during that time in Dublin, when some friends and I went drinking at Foley's Pub between St. Stephen's Green and Merrion Square. We were chatting and enjoying ourselves like normal when I noticed one boy in particular across the bar who looked vaguely familiar. He seemed to have the same thought about me, so we introduced ourselves and realized we had gone to the same high school together and shared an English class in ninth grade.
Immediately, since he went to a hometown university where many of our classmates were still in touch, I pestered him with questions about other old friends. I bashfully asked about one boy who I had fostered a bit of a crush on in my tender years. "He was so cute!" I gushed.
"Really? You thought so?" he asked. "I don't know. I don't see him much anymore. That was seven years ago!"
It made me feel old to remember this (tho not as old as Brian O'Driscoll), but it made me feel a little better, too. After all, here I am seven years on with a friend I made my very first time abroad, having a beer at Covent Gardens and commiserating about our dissertations. If this is the rate I'm going, what will things look like seven years from now?
The thing I remember most about Six Nations that year was, after the Irish victory, a giant tarp with a picture of team captain Brian O'Driscoll hung very prominently along Grafton Street. When the commentators announced his name in the starting lineup, then, it was a pleasant little surprise. "I would have thought he'd retired by now," I told my friend.
"Yeah, he's getting up there," my friend admitted. "But he can't have been that old when you were in Dublin."
"Well, he was definitely already the captain," I said.
"Oh. Then he must be old," said my friend. "That was . . ." and then he calculated in his head. "Seven years ago."
I immediately flashed back to one night during that time in Dublin, when some friends and I went drinking at Foley's Pub between St. Stephen's Green and Merrion Square. We were chatting and enjoying ourselves like normal when I noticed one boy in particular across the bar who looked vaguely familiar. He seemed to have the same thought about me, so we introduced ourselves and realized we had gone to the same high school together and shared an English class in ninth grade.
Immediately, since he went to a hometown university where many of our classmates were still in touch, I pestered him with questions about other old friends. I bashfully asked about one boy who I had fostered a bit of a crush on in my tender years. "He was so cute!" I gushed.
"Really? You thought so?" he asked. "I don't know. I don't see him much anymore. That was seven years ago!"
It made me feel old to remember this (tho not as old as Brian O'Driscoll), but it made me feel a little better, too. After all, here I am seven years on with a friend I made my very first time abroad, having a beer at Covent Gardens and commiserating about our dissertations. If this is the rate I'm going, what will things look like seven years from now?
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