It’s not often I feel elated watching Manchester United being humiliated. Last Saturday was different. In what felt like taking another step from the COVID-19 maze, I took my son Patrick to Old Trafford. The last time I was at a game with him he was a boy, now he’s a man. Taller than me at 15 and more tuned-in with life; equipped with profound knowledge of what seems like every soccer player across Europe, it made for a perfect father-son day out.

The plan was to go to Stamford Bridge to see his beloved Chelsea, but I would’ve needed to win that nights’ €18m Lotto jackpot to afford the flights to London. You see this was a last-minute plan. I was presenting Liveline last week so I was given a rare Saturday morning off, so we set about planning this only the week before.

Patrick’s best friend’s dad had contacts for tickets for Old Trafford. “I wouldn’t turn down the chance to see Ronaldo in the flesh Dad, even if he is playing for Man U!”

On the bus from John Lennon Airport to the train station, we got stuck in a queue outside a petrol station due to panic buying

Surprisingly, I was able to construct a reasonably priced flight package which involved an early-morning plane to Liverpool and a late-night return from Manchester. There was excitement at the prospect of going to a live match again. On the bus from John Lennon Airport to the train station, we got stuck in a queue outside a petrol station due to panic buying, the latest legacy of Brexit.

We only have one barman serving and we should have five

It would be one of many little reminders of how Brexit is messing with life in the UK. “You’re waiting time for a drink will be 30 minutes sir. You can take a seat and order it using the QR-code,” said the nice lady at the bar in Manchester airport that evening. “We only have one barman serving and we should have five.” Maybe it wasn’t Brexit-related but I couldn’t help but think so.

Manchester city centre was hopping as we completed over 25,000 steps around it before and after the game according to my Fitbit. No masks and everywhere was wedged with people as if nothing had happened. There was no food being served in any of the bars advertising food.

We weren’t asked for COVID-19 certs anywhere

They were concentrating instead on filling their customers’ desire for drink with a heap of concerts happening around the city, hoards of football fans dotting the outdoor dining areas, stag dos, hen parties and boxing fans who were gathering from 5pm for the Joshua v Usyk fight in one pub we tried which was for “boxing fans only”.

We weren’t asked for COVID-19 certs anywhere and the stadium itself was at full capacity – over 70,000 people including Irish voices everywhere, many of them who began the day in a busy Dublin airport swilling beer at 6am.

By the time the 9.30pm flight was boarding, it was clear many of them would be spending much of Sunday in bed. Patrick looked on quizzically at how excess drinking can affect some people’s ability to act normally which may have actually saved me the bother of ever needing to extol the virtues of sobriety to him!

All in all, it was a wonderful day out. Just don’t mention the actual match

On the flight home he reviewed the videos and snaps he’d taken of the players, including Ronaldo, as they left the stadium following the game. We were only a few feet away and he was naturally chuffed to see them in the flesh. All in all, it was a wonderful day out. Just don’t mention the actual match. Thanks.

An icon in agri journalism

I was very sad to hear of the passing of Larry Sheedy, an icon of Irish agricultural journalism. I only spoke with him a few weeks ago in relation to the 60th anniversary of the Guild of Agricultural Journalists, of which he was a founder. May he rest in peace.