Beyond The Call Of Duty

The story goes that, in the early 90’s, Alex Ferguson got wind of a house party which Lee Sharpe and Ryan Giggs were attending. He stormed the house and promptly accompanied them out of harm’s way. He had his eyes and ears all over town and knew every step his players took. I like his approach and so Rochey shouldn’t be surprised when he is caught with Tiramisu in hand or Johnny Phelan is seen strolling arm in arm with his lady in Place Jourdain whilst the lads are training hard in the Parc.

I’ve taken it a step further this last week and moved in with injury victim Colin Byrne to support his return to fitness. If ever there was a man who needed my help, it is him. Belgium has been kind to the man and his fridge is heavily stocked with its finest beer and darkest chocolate. He likes the ‘quiet’ pint too and I saw that side within 24hrs of moving in when he broke his curfew at the first attempt.

When a man of his age gets injured, the road to recovery is a longer one with more twist and turns and unforgiving hills to scale. After a week under my guidance though, he returned to training tonight and the baby finger survived intact. He’s sitting across from me now looking very smug whilst eating his kebab. Little does he know, it will be his last for a long time.

The clock is ticking though as his brother arrives on Monday morning and I have to have completed my mission by then as the scale of surveillance will need to be scaled down. Fortunately his wife to be will be following him over in a couple of months but I worry it may be too late. I’ve six days to change the man’s ways. Time to get cracking.