Time waits for no man (or journalist)

Around teatime last Sunday week a pal rang: “Well, what did you think?” He was referring to Cork-Tipperary, lately ended, and was clearly settling in for a long chat. I pointed out I was not only still working, but actually right in the middle .... “What, you’re still there? Still?” 

Explaining deadlines is tricky, mostly because of a tendency among people to guffaw at the notion what you’re doing is work at all, never mind convincing them about the seriousness of a looming cut-off for submission.

One size doesn’t fit all: a 4pm GAA game has a pretty forgiving deadline compared to an international soccer game which has drifted slightly beyond its intended evening conclusion due to injury time or an extended half-time.