I was in the Gaelic Grounds early Sunday morning, before noon, where the only people outside the ground at that stage were lads selling hats and flags, and this fella in a chip van who was trying to get the generator going.
Your man wasn’t happy. The fella alongside him in the van was getting a fair roasting. He looked disorientated and dishevelled, under the weather even, while his boss was all business.
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