IT’S just a small tingle of emotion. Not as deep as other emotional moments, like, say, watching another country vote for the first time, or a goal scored from one of those counter-attacks in the World Cup, where the winger hoofs an arcing ball into the path of the striker, who has just run from his own penalty area and hits it without breaking stride.

I know we have to forget stuff. Biologically speaking, we need to put some experiences away.

FORGET the Papal visit. All I care about is the Potatal visit. Put the date in your diaries: 2021, the World Potato Congress will be held in Ireland.

It starts officially tomorrow although celebrations have been underway for a little while. The 30th anniversary of Ireland’s Euro 88 adventure. Specifically, tomorrow marks 30 years since Ray Houghton’s goal.

Yes you could listen to a match while driving somewhere but there are distractions such as other vehicles coming towards you or a shitehawk with italic number plates ‘up your hole’ in the rearview mirror, writes Colm O’Regan.

“Truly humbling,” say some award-winners on receiving their gong. I call bullshit, writes Colm O’Regan.

“WHAT are you going to do about it?” He had a point. The no doubt necessary rebalancing of rights, between adults and children, means there’s very little I can do about a couple of small boys squirting water at me in a park.

This week on Stating The Bleeding Obvious, it has come to my attention that podcasts are mighty yokes altogether.

By my made-up reckoning, 80% of TV now is some sort of competitive living, writes Colm O’Regan

Spring is finally here. I don’t mean the small amount of hot weather last Friday and