Latest posts by Martin Moodie (see all)
- The manifestation of a thousand transitions - September 19, 2024
- All aboard the Gucci Pink Express bound for an Amar (and AI) reimagined Heathrow - September 13, 2024
- Eating cats and dogs in media land - September 11, 2024
So we remain The Moodie Davitt Report.
For 37 phases over the last six minutes or so of a pulsating Rugby World Cup quarter-final between the All Blacks and Ireland when the mighty boyz in green had the ball in their hands and the New Zealand goal line in their sights, it looked as though I might have to honour my pledge to retire, become ‘free of duty at last’ and to rename our title after my Irish business partner Dermot Davitt.
Ireland – and The Davitt Report – were that close. But somehow… somehow (and I am still not sure how) the All Blacks held out. As did, miraculously, the floor of my Hong Kong apartment as I paced it for those last excruciating moments.
In our Rugby World Cup Readers’ Competition, Bernard Walsh, the Founder of Walsh Whiskey, put up a bottle of Writers’ Tears as the prize for our top pundit. It’s my favourite Irish whiskey but I wanted to be drinking it in celebration rather than shedding its and my tears.
Now the writer who will be doing the latter is Dermot, though he, like all my Irish friends, has been magnamanious in defeat.
Onwards. The tough as teak Pumas from Argentina await us in the semi-final. But first two more quarter-finals, the Flying Fijians v England and what promises to be an epic match-up between hosts France and the reigning champions, the Springboks from South Africa.
How nice, how very nice, it will be to watch both matches tonight and in the early hours of tomorrow, relaxed, just a large glass of a certain Irish whiskey in my hand. Undiluted by tears of course.