Denis Lehane: Men wearing short pants is an epidemic in West Cork this summer. It has to stop

Spotting not one, but three so-called 'cattle men' at the mart wearing short pants was too much for Auld Lehane

Every Tom, Dick and Harry seems to be zipping up a pair of pants that shows off his old hairy legs to the world.

While I can stand most things in life, the sight of a grown man going around the place in short pants is the one thing that damn nearly turns my stomach.

I can't stand it.

Nor can I understand it.

How in the name of all that is normal and natural could this be considered the best way for a grown man to behave?

I myself haven't worn short pants since 1972. And I have no intention of beginning again.

Here in West Cork this summer, the sight of grown men wearing short pants (and proudly, I might add) has taken on epidemic proportions.

Every Tom, Dick and Harry seems to be zipping up a pair of pants that shows off his old hairy legs to the world.

I was at a function the other evening, and I damn nearly choked on my burger with disgust at the number of men who showed up in such a fashion.

"Courtmacsherry," says I, shaking my head in disappointment, "where did it all go wrong?"

And, but for the fact that I was treated to free drink the whole night long, I would have marched home in protest.

So where did it all go wrong? And why are so many men now wearing short-legged trousers?

Well, if you ask me, I blame the tourist.

I blame the summer visitor to our shores for the introduction of such a contrary creation.

And while perhaps in Cannes or in the Bahamas, or on the streets of San Francisco, the old shorts might be acceptable enough, when they are seen here in rural towns like Macroom and Kanturk, someone has to shout 'Stop!'

And today auld Lehane is doing just that.

The summer short pants need to go. It needs to go the way of the corncrake and the Warble Fly Inspector.

It needs to get the bin. And I don't mean the clothes bin, I mean the rubbish bin. The skip. The bonfire.

We, the men of Ireland, need to say 'No!' to the short pants before it becomes compulsory.

When I was a young fellow, no man in his right mind wore short pants, except, of course, when on the field of play.

Indeed, most men I knew back then wore a donkey jacket over the summer months and the winter too, and never died of either the cold or the heat.

But alas, times have changed.

And then last Saturday we reached a new low, when at a cattle mart I spotted not one, but at least three so-called 'cattle men' wearing short pants.

"Cattle men in short pants! In the name of the almighty." I roared.

If the Bull McCabe could see us now, he would be either laughing or crying at the state of affairs.

The big stick would be out, and nothing surer.

It's no wonder they are threatening to bring in so much Brazilian beef — sure we are practically on the equator ourselves with our old multi-coloured Bermudas.

At this rate, fellows will be going to the mart in flip-flops and sun visors before the end of the year!

Our only hope now is that with a change in the weather, sanity might be restored.

And that the bizarre practice of wearing short pants might peter out, or better again disappear entirely.

But alas, the greater fear is of course, that the practice could become widespread.

And just like with a bout of coccidiosis in young calves, the short pants curse could be very hard to get rid of once it takes hold.