Did I ever tell you about the time....

“DID I ever tell you about the time that I ...”

For years, those words were the verbal equivalent of a kick in the stones.

It is the stock phrase of the “back in my day” merchants, guys who hang around clubhouses using drink to bribe young players into listening to exaggerated tales of historical derring-do.

And now, I find myself using those self-same words for, when you retire after a largely unremarkable career you cling to associations with those who went on to achieve rugby stardom.

I have become a “back in my day” merchant.

Did I ever tell you about the time I out-paced John Kelly and Peter Stringer?

There is a picture taken during an All-Ireland league game between Dolphin and UCC six years ago that I now polish on a daily basis.

In it, yours truly is racing towards the UCC line, ball tucked under his arm, while trailing in his wake are current internationals Kelly and Stringer. The former is panting for breath, mouth wide open, while the latter sprawls on the ground, a look of desperation on his face, having unsuccessfully tried to execute a hand-trip.

Legend has it, that after this humiliation, Stringer spent hours on the training pitch perfecting the technique that allowed him deny Dan Luger a certain try and secure the famous win over England in 2001.

I swear it’s true.

Did I ever tell you about the time Keith Wood trashed my hotel room?

It was 1990 and I was on the bench for the Munster U20s for their game with Connacht in Limerick.

Also on that bench was Keith Wood because the first choice hooker on that Munster team was my good friend Conor Twomey.

Most weekends, you can bump into Twomey in the Musgrave Park clubhouse and will know him by his catchphrase, “Did I ever tell you about the time when Woody used to sub for me?”

Those were the amateur days when teams would share a post-match meal, swap ties and go for a few drinks together.

That night after beating Connacht quite comfortably we went out for a few drinks and a dance.

I was rooming with another sub on the team and we arrived back to the hotel in the early hours fit for nothing but a long sleep.

Our trip to the Land of Nod was interrupted by a loud banging on the door. Woody.

He burst into the room and quite matter-of-factly started to overturn furniture and throw water and clothes about until the room was in a state of complete disarray.

When he was eventually satisfied, Woody sat down on the end of an upturned leaba and started telling us all about his schooldays.

I clearly recall cowering against the wall, wrapped in a sodden sheet, exchanging bewildered glances with my room-mate as this stranger related his madcap escapades in St Munchins.