I wrote this piece for my column in the Leinster Leader in March 2007. I couldn’t be prouder that our girl’s time has finally come…
A sweaty Sunday night in August 1998, the dancefloor of a seedy nightclub in Naas heaves with stumbling, drunken revellers. Nothing unusual about that, but look again, they are all dressed in white; white t-shirts, white sweaters and you think you may have seen two young men in white boiler suits hugging and crying tears of pure Heineken in the far corner. I too am in white, a dress, looking like I’ve just been thrown off Centre Court, wrapped drunkenly around an equally drunk, white-clad young man, my mad vodka-eyes scaring him from repelling my amorous advances.
Outside in the street the cars are bedecked in white flags and streamers and those that are not parked hap-hazzardly on the street, weave through the throngs of locals, honking and beeping raucously.