The Toast

So yesterday was St. Patrick's Day. I find it funny that the Irish's sworn patron Saint, is actually a Brit. Yes, St. Patrick was born in Britain, yet he is revered by the Irish. He is however, most likely responsible for the Celtic Cross, as he added the sun (a pagan symbol to represent fire, used by the Irish to worship their Gods), to the top of the cross, so for that he may be their Saint. He also spread Christianity throughout Ireland, using the traditional Irish ways, and mixing them in with that of Christianity. He did this to not alienate the Irish people. Letting them keep a portion of their heritage, with there new found religion of Christianity.

This leads me to a toast made yesterday. While having a few afternoon pops for the Cinco De Mayo for Gringos, and celebrating the start of the NCAA tourney, a fine group of young Canadian men walked into a bar I frequent. They happened to also be with a former famous hockey player who shall not be named. But he's definitely a guy you want to be running with at the bars on St. Patrick's Day. He knows everyone, no one will mess with him, and you'll get drinks bought for you by him or the bartenders all night.

I chatted with the hockey guy for a few, and he introduced me to his young Canadian friends. They're in the town for the weekend for the Drop Kick Murphy shows, and for the Southie St. Patrick's Day Parade on Sunday. After getting to know these guys for a few, they start to get a little rowdy. They had apparently been drinking since 9:30 at another bar with the hockey guy (HG from now on). So the sauce is flowing in these guys, and they are just now starting to get some food in them before a short trip to their hotel for a possible nap, a joint, and some more food and beverages before the Drop Kick show at HOB. 

So they buy me a round, and I thank them. As the round comes out for all of us. One of the guys in the group, whose been complaining that his friends bust his balls too much. They don't pick on anyone but him. And when they do, they "sandbag" him. I asked what "sandbagging" meant, as I've only heard it in terms of sports and cards, when someone says their not as good as they really are. So he says "Yeah sandbagging. Chicks pull the shit all the time when they want to fight with you. They keep shit in a bag, and they pull stuff out against you that you did like 8 years ago, just to bust balls. That's what these wankers do to me." So apparently his friends make fun of him like girls do. I thought it was funny. Especially with them saying "Hay" after a lot of the jokes. Yes they really do say it "hay". 

This leads me to the toast. As the new round came out. My new found friends from the north tell me, we can't drink without making a toast. He says, it's St. Patrick's day, and while he's not Irish, one of his buddies in the group is. So he stands up on his chair. The bartender tells him to take it easy, and HG says relax, kids okay. Kid says, "Today we are all Irish. Small dicks and fucked up livers for everyone." Cheers all around, as he steps down from the stool. HG, being the great, smart man that he is says, "I'm Irish, and I have a 9.5" penis. And I'm uncircumcised, which is odd for a Canadian." And on that note, I finished my drink, having learned way too much about the HG. I bought a round in return, and I wished them well and headed out.

- Joe Nicholas

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