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McHugh's did look after us. They arranged a table for thirteen almost as soon as we'd made our first enquiry about their restaurant. This table was right next to a balcony which overlooked the lower level of the bar. There were a number of hockey fans in by the time we left, but there seemed to be a regular trendy clientele mixed in too. The place ended up absolutely heaving. God, is Slate#18's hair really that grey, or has my flash done that to his barnet ?
Just about all of us must have had a shot like this on their camera by the time we left. This is the 'I'm going to surprise everyone as I come back from the toilet' angle. In the background you can see Ginger leading Slate#18 astray. This was to prove telling in the early hours of the next morning as he was reported to have been sat in a pizza place entirely unable to co-ordinate the pizza to mouth, mouth to pizza operation which is essential to any pizza eating endeavour. It is fortunate he hadn't become this drunk before the game as we went straight from McHughs up to the Odyssey and this isn't as simple as it sounds. You see, there's the small matter of a bloody motorway in between pedestrians and the arena. Shaggy and Keefe later dubbed the experience of crossing this as 'drunken Frogger'. Translation for anyone under 20: Frogger is an arcade game from the 1980's in which you have to jump your 'frog' all over a busy, multi-lane road without it getting squished until you get a high score or until you realise that your Atari Console is better used for propping open doors.
