Colin Sheridan: This is not Halloween. I am Andy Moran's ghost

For those of you who have ever encountered Andy Moran, either publicly or privately, he is that rare phenomena of what you see is exactly what you get. There is no duplicity. There is only Andy

Former Mayo footballer Andy Moran. Picture: INPHO/James Crombie

For the weekend that’s in it, here’s a piece about the Ghost Writer. Much like a fella who might find himself at a swingers party in Rathmines on a Monday night, let me tell you straight up, I don’t usually do this sort of thing.

I never saw myself as somebody who would want to ghost-write a book. Why would I, when I never read those books in the first place? Save for all the times I find myself in other people’s houses, stalking their bookshelves like a deer hunter, waiting to find some rare, beautiful stag, like “Brian O’Driscoll — My Year in the Centre”, just so I can slide it out of its cosy home on the shelf, read 50 pages, before reluctantly returning it and spending the next week wondering “how did Drico’s weekend getaway to the Big Apple end up?”