After a fair few bribes and promises of a treat – to the kids, as well as my parents – myself and my husband skipped out of the house last Saturday evening in pursuit of uninterrupted adult conversation and a beer. What’s rare is beautiful and we were like giddy kids heading down to the local. The autumn evening had just turned dark and like all good Irish pubs, as the door squeaked open, we were met with lively chatter, a friendly salute and a cosy atmosphere.

Settling in, we weren’t taking much notice of the giant TV in the corner, except for the roar from fans when Chelsea scored a winning goal against Liverpool in the 95th minute of a Premier League match. Soon after the final whistle, there was an exodus and so we found ourselves in a quieter pub, surrounded by a few couples and the older local lads sipping their pints. Delighted with ourselves, we were.

This local pub has always been a hub for sporting fans, and so over the years, the TV screens have gotten bigger – but they’ve only been there for matches and the likes of a good golf tournament. So I found it a bit distracting when, after the match, the sound was muted but the ads continued to play. A short while later, I glanced up and the Saturday night movie was starting. Ghost, an enjoyable movie in itself, but was this really the right vibe for the local?

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And then it happened, we looped onto that famous scene, yes, you guessed it, the pottery wheel with Patrick Swayze, Demi Moore and its many passionate euphemisms. The lively chatter reduced to a subtle din and an awkward atmosphere settled over the bar. Couples tried – and failed – to conceal their distracted conversations and sure the lads at the bar, quite literally gave up the ghost and abandoned their post-match analysis.

And then it happened, we looped onto that famous scene, yes, you guessed it, the pottery wheel with Patrick Swayze, Demi Moore and its many passionate euphemisms

It was like that awkward teenage moment, sitting on the couch with your parents when a sex scene comes on the telly. No one knows where to look, we’re all trying to be mature, until the tension becomes too much, and someone (usually me) grabs the remote and makes a joke to the parents, that really this stuff isn’t suitable for the two of you. Except in the pub, no one could grab the remote.

So, this is a desperate plea to the publicans of Ireland – please turn off the TVs. Yes, play the matches and cash in on the profits of the Premier League or the good atmosphere of GAA clash. But after that, let the Irish pub do what it does best – be the home of conversation and craic, catch-ups and the occasional debate; where couples escape from the kids for a few hours – only to talk about the kids – and friends right the wrongs of their world. Let’s leave the Saturday night movie where it belongs, in front of the fire at home.

In other news, we’ve had a great response to our Cook with Neven competition, where readers can be in with a chance to visit Dunnes Stores HQ and enjoy a day of festive cookery advice. We have extended the deadline until next week and all details are on page 17.

We are also still running our succession survey and we would really welcome your opinions. See the QR code to your right.