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Mon 07 Jul 2007Real case of the Blues for Bob in Thurles LockerRoom:Travelled to Thurles yesterday with old pal Bob in the car, wondering all the while what I could steal from him. Yeah yeah yeah, I'm a poor class of friend to have, but listen, it's dangerous to set off on the morning of a Munster final without a column written. You could be waylaid by vagabonds or drinkers and never even get a column started and then have to endure an awkward conversation with the sports editor the next day. Believe me, it's always awkward talking up to him from a kneeling position. I learned that as a freelance.As Bob always says with undiminished relevance, The Times They Are A-Changin'. In olden times, better men than me would set off two days early for a big match knowing what perils there were in pausing for refreshment in, say, Morrissey's of Abbeyleix with a deadline just 72 hours away. On Sunday they would file decent approximations of the action for the benefit of a grateful audience who hadn't been clued in by television on Sunday and who wouldn't be bitching in chatrooms all day on Monday. Then they would return in slow and dignified triumph hoping to hit the city by Wednesday there to have a shave and to pick up their riding instructions for the next weekend.