OFFICE: Not your normal working afternoon

"Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life."

Over the festive period I came across a movie called New Year’s Eve. One of plots ‘cute little stories’ was that of Ashton Kutcher and the talented Leah Michelle (leading lady from Glee). They got stuck in an elevator on New Years. That left then in the uncomfortable position whereby they were depending on people outside putting 2+2 together and getting 4 to rescue them. It got me thinking of that one time when I got stuck in a bathroom while at work…..Let me explain.

Entertaining stories in your standard office environment are usually few and far between. For most, hours, days and weeks will pass where very little will happen in the office that will get the pulse racing. You’ll come in, have a cuppa tea, work for a while, have more tea, then work until lunch, have a quick cuppa to wash it down, do a little more work before heading home. Nothing wrong with it of course, after all, it is what we signed up to.

I remember one afternoon breaking this cycle. I was working with a colleague at client site in Cork. We were provided with the use of a portakabin which itself was located in a large abandoned warehouse. The warehouse was used for storing old construction equipment which was no longer being used because the property bubble had burst. Everything was going according to plan as I headed towards the bathroom shortly after lunch. Like any other normal and well-mannered individual I locked the doors behind me before going about my business. This is where the story starts – the bloody door would not re-open no matter how hard I tried. Lightbulb moment and I recall the client mentioning something about one of the two doors being dodgy in the bathroom when we met him that morning! Bit late for that now. 

At training the week we were told how to solve problems by thinking outside the box. "You have to be creative and ask yourself is there another way around a particular problem" was quoted a number of times by the presenter. Somehow, I don't think he was thinking about a situation like this!

I had let my phone at my desk so making a call to my colleague was out of the question. There was a little window in the bathroom but that faced out into an empty yard which looked desolate and in need of a good weed killer. Could I fit out the window? No chance, that hot chicken roll at lunch made sure of that. Roaring was not going to work as it was a bathroom in the far off side of the aforementioned massive abandoned warehouse. Kicking down the door? I thought about it but I was a professional working on a clients site – I couldn't do that!! Also got to remember that I am not the strongest of individual and even if I decided to kick it down I probably wouldn't be able to.

While stuck in the bathroom I learned a good deal about myself;

• Firstly, while I had managed to leave my phone on the desk I did manage to bring a pocket calculator to the bathroom with me. Typical bloody accountant. Of course I started to play with it and see what words I could make by typing in digits and then turning the calculator upside down. That bit of fun lasted a whole 5 minutes. 
• Secondly, I started to think about how I would survive in here for a night if worse comes to worst. My food options were a bar of Dove soap – which I was happy with rather than those cheaper options and some toothpaste which I assume was used by an employee at some stage. To be honest it wasn't a bad selection if it got to that. I opted to wait a small bit longer before tucking in. 
• Finally, I thought about how I would get a message to the outside world in these circumstances. How would I let my parents know that I was alright? How would I tell the GAA club that I’d be missing training? What about the lads I was renting with – it was Wednesday wasn't it, damn it was my night to cook, and they would be pissed.

The minutes passed and still no sound or movement on the outside. A crow did perch about 20 meters from the window but my attempts to cajole him were to no avail as he just flew off, probably to tell his crow buddies that there was some ape stuck in the bathroom. Bloody crow! Then again, even if I managed to 'cajole' him whats in gods name would I have done then?? I was under so much pressure now that I had the tie off. It wasn't quite the time to put it around my head in Tarzan style just yet though. Roaring wasn't helping – I was actually getting hoarse. I suddenly felt my throat become a little dry, soon I would need water. It was a first world problem I was having, a tap alongside me that I didn't dare drink from for fear of where it was coming from!

I now wish I had read that book, 127 hours, whereby an individual spends ages stuck down a chasm in Utah after going out for a run in the outback. He was basically stuck between a rock and a hard place and managed to survive, albeit by eventually cutting off his hand. I was starting to see similarities. I'm sure there would have been some good survival tips in that. 

Just as I was cutting the soap up into smaller little parts that I was going to ration and eat I heard what could only be described as life-saving footsteps. Someone was out there looking for me. HOORAY! I got up off my perch, ran to the door and with whatever ounce of strength I had left in my body roared my head off while kicking and punching the door. My colleague heard it and approached the door cautiously. She said something which to me sounded like blubber. She returned with two men shortly after who used a crowbar to free me. FREEDOM…….Is this how Mandela felt I wondered? I embraced the three of them before falling to my knees and kissed the ground. Emotions was running high as you could imagine! 

After 27 of the longest minutes of my life it felt as if there should have been a full fanfare on the other side but no, nothing, no ambulance with waiting drip for my dehydration, no TV crews with questions about my ordeal and no friends or family. The two men, my heroes, had already gone back to work. It was just my colleague asking if I was okay and that my manager was coming out to review the work shortly and was in bad form. Maybe the toilet wasn't so bad after all.   

FARMING: When you know Farming isn't for you – HIDING (1/4)

‘HIDING’ is the first in a 4 part series where I examine the reasons why, despite growing up on a farm, determined that it was not the vocation for me.

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I - I took the one less traveled by..."

The Road not taken by Robert Frost

It’s a sunny but cool afternoon and primary school is over for the day. Not a very challenging day as we spent most of it playing with mala and doing some sums from the famous Busy at Maths textbook. As per usual I’m to be found watching the Power Rangers in front of the TV at 4pm. It was part my usual after school ritual – change clothes – eat dinner – watch TV. I used to love the Power Rangers with Jason, the red Power Ranger, being my favourite. I had all the action figures, had the pyjamas, the bed-sheets, the posters and had even gone to see them Live in the Green Glens arena in Milstreet the winter before. To say I was a big fan was an understatement. Missing an episode was sacrilege.

Therefore when at 4.05pm my Dad came in and asked me to stand on the road to re-direct the cattle down the passage to pastures new I was not a happy camper. This was in the days before some bright spark at SKY had the novel idea of series link. Reluctantly, I took the order and stood on the road – hands folded, pout on my face. ‘How dare he I asked’ as I kicked a ball with temper up against the gable end wall. As I waited rather impatiently for the cattle to come up the road I started to get a bit antsy. ‘What’s taking so long?’ ‘Why would he bring me out here when they weren't ready to come up the road?’ ‘Will I miss the second half of the show?’

Another few more minutes passed there was still no sign of the cattle. I jumped on a nearby pier which was an achievement in itself given my age and size. By jumping up and down I was able to catch a glimpse of my Dad and his farm assistant running around the field hopelessly trying to get the young cattle out of the field.  To say they were struggling was an understatement. They’ll be ages I thought. I’ll just head back inside and watch a few more minutes of the Power Rangers and come out again – he won’t even know I’m gone.

So I headed indoors with a massive grin as I told the babysitter that I had climbed up on the pier all by myself!! To add to my excitement the second half of the show was just starting. After a few minutes of being engrossed in the episode I naturally enough for an 8 year old forgot all about the road and the cattle and my Dad. Similar to every other episode of the Power Rangers they were in the middle of saving the world from disaster. And all was going well for them but things started to take a turn for the worse for me.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a rouge animal galloping up passed the house. He gave a quick mocking look in my direction as he trundled on up the road. That’s not supposed to happen I mused. Naturally enough the rest of the herd past the spot where I was supposed to be stationed in their droves. OH HOLY SHIT. Despite the merciless speed that they passed at, to me it was like they were going in slow motion.  To this day them passing reminds me of the ad with all the Ping Pong balls being released down the hill. 

With each passing animal it was like a dagger to my heart! Without understating this……Dad would not be happy! One or two of the animals decided that they would be better served coming into the front lawn and digging that up. At this stage they were taking the piss……literally in the case of one of the beasts.

All of that happened in the space of a few seconds. Then two clear paths emerged......One, the correct one, was to go out and help and take the wrath that was undoubtedly going to come my way but at least be involved in the salvage operation. The second of course was to hide. Yup – I went and hid.

The cattle ended up going into a neighbour’s field where they were finally contained and eventually brought to calm and home to the paddock. The babysitter, the neighbour, the candlestick maker and even one of my younger sisters were involved in bringing them back. She was no more than 5. I was nowhere to be found and that suited me just fine. I decided that my new home was going to be in behind the couch. It was small with very little room for manoeuvre but I knew it was safe as my Dad would never look in there. The fear of his arrival back though had me sobbing like the coward that I was.

Eventually I heard him coming. Thumping, bellowing and roaring. If the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk had met him in his travels he would have run for safety. Into the sitting room. I could smell his anger. I stayed quiet. I heard his roar. I stayed quiet. A second roar. I stayed quiet. He left, I sobbed………well for a few minutes anyway as the Animaniacs were starting at 5pm!!

Part 2 examines STUPIDITY!!

SPORT: Pre-season Training – It’s not all that different to flying!

"If God had really intended men to fly, he'd have made it easier to get to the airport."

George Winters

It’s that time of year again – the commencement of pre-season training for many GAA clubs the length and breadth of the country. The turkey has been polished off, the mince pies devoured, the sherry trifle with ice-cream and warm custard now but a distant memory and the bottles of beer finally put to one side – well for some anyway.

For me, pre-season is just like getting ready for a flight, and just like flying there are a number of challenges that need to be overcome. The questions that are posed by family, friends or loved ones in the lead up to take-off bare an uncanny resemblance to those that should be posed in the lead up to the first night back on field.

It is no secret that GAA players hate pre-season training. It scares the living daylights out of the majority. They know that in the first few weeks the only time they will see a ball of any shape or size is when one of them is sent to the equipment room in search of an extra bib or some extra cones. Its rep after rep after rep of the same run with the odd variation thrown in to mix it up. There will be jumping jacks, squats, push-ups and sit-ups. Bodies are going to ache for days. It will rain, it will snow, there will be heavy wind and the ground will go from being rock solid in places to soft and sticky in a matter of meters. The floodlight (or car lights depending) will work some nights and other nights your imagination will be required as you plough through a secondary field for a few weeks. 

Buckle in as I bring you through the first night back after the winter break.

1.       Preparation:

After a full day of drinking water you leave work/college with a small bit of a pep in your step but also with a very full bladder. It’s been ages since you took on so much water but you have been told year after year that the intake of water is vital. Of course you should have been doing this the last few days/weeks but you have decided to leave it until today to start gulping down the H2O.

Just like checking your emails to make sure of your boarding time you check the club text a number of times to make sure that you won’t be late on the first night. I still have no idea how people get it wrong but there will always be one who will not be able to read the following ‘PHYSICAL TRAINING will commence at 7.30pm SHARP on the field’ and run out onto the field at 8pm, boots unlaced and tying their shorts as they realise the error of their ways. The “I was milking the cows” trick doesn't really fly if you have never milked a cow in your life.

As you approach the field that night you wonder if those few games of 5 a side soccer over the winter have paid off and not forgetting that one night you got a trial run at the new local gym and used the benches for some upper body work. That surely counts for something right? Right? On deeper considerations you know it hasn't. Fear encapsulates you!

Packing the bag is a minefield – especially if Mom is not involved. You should ensure that you have two of everything in the bag as you have no idea what you will be coming up against conditions wise. The passport is undoubtedly your football boots – you can rob a pair of socks, togs and a tee shirt off anyone in the dressing but just like forgetting the passport – forgetting the boots is a big no-no. It is probably easier to tell your girlfriend that you forgot the passports pre sun holiday than it is to tell your coach that you can’t train as you forgot your boots!!

2.       Check-In:

The first night is full of the same old clichés being bandied about the dressing room when you walk in….”Fair play to you Gerry, you’re giving it one more year”, “White boots, who do you think YOU are? They won’t be white for long out there”, “Did your girlfriend buy that top for you” and “Tights, you've changed boy”. It all adds to the atmosphere at the first night of training. An atmosphere that is filled with anxiety and worry about what the next 90 minutes will bring. 

There is, however, an amazing sense of togetherness on that first night back which is heavily vested in that fact that the longer we all stay in the dressing room the warmer we all will be. It’s probably the only time of year that everyone is willing to watch and wait for the renowned slow coach to finish putting on the white socks over the GAA socks and the tape around the wrists. For today we wait for him as a unit as a team as one………..for the rest of the year we tease and mock him incessantly.  

Then there are the younger lads. Ah yes - Some of these boys (they will have to earn the title of ‘lad’ as the year progresses) look so nervous. First time flyers as such. Some would have got a taste of the action last year when we short one or two faces due to a local wedding, but there will be a few new faces here for the first time. I remember my first time flying, it was nerve jangling and exciting all rolled into one. It is fantastic to see these new faces though – well that is until you realise that they are better than you and that #15 jersey that you had for 10 years is now under threat. 

3.       Departure Lounge and Pre-Flight Instructions:

Finally, one of the new selectors will come in and just give a look at one or two of the older lads before roaring on what seems like an airport style tannoy system– “COME ON BOYS - ITS GONE WELL PAST 7.30!!” It’s the final call! That walk to the field is daunting. You know there will be cones there, that’s a given. The questions is – how far apart will they be? You notice that odd new snood, the lad who got a new pair of white Nike boots for Christmas, the lad that forgot his training top and the one or two younger lads who are wearing white/light coloured tops. Mammy won’t be pleased with them when they go home – they’ll learn with experience.

The funniest is the lad who works in a warm office from 9 to 5 every day. He reminds me of that poor man with his girlfriend in the departure lounge who has to wear three jumpers and 2 coats on his way to the Algarve all because his baggage was 2kg over the limit. Just like that man, they won’t be on for long!

A quick greeting with the coach at the gate which we all hope only last a few seconds as it is a chilly -5C in the shade with a north to north westerly wind from the heart of Scandanavia blowing right down the field. The warm up is quick and snappy. As the year goes on there will usually only be one or two sets of water bottles out at the start of training. Tonight there are 5. In fact there is usually extra people from the locality drafted in to assist with the carting of water to the lads for this session. We can take comfort in this as we know that they know that we will need it!

As the warm up concludes with a quick 50meter jog out and back one smart ass shouts from the back “That was a tough session”. It gets a ripple of laughter, some of the younger lads love it but the scary thing is that when you look around and see the agony on some of the older lads’ faces you know that there is a touch of honesty about the little gag. If only management had done their job properly and shown us where the Exit doors were!

4.       Take-Off:

A quick look around and for the first time I really take it all in – It’s the middle of January, its freezing, the pitch is like my brother just ploughed it a few weeks ago and forgot to go back to it, the shrill blast of the coaches whistle send shivers from the ear drums right down to the baby toe, there is not a football in sight, there are at least 50 cones dotted around the field, someone inevitably forgot to turn on the showers before coming out but...........I can honestly say is that there is no place in this earth right now that I would rather be – make sure you are strapped in as the 2015 GAA season is just about to take off.