...so he finished his deliveries early on Christmas Eve. The reindeers loved the snow and they relished the white Antrim glens and rolling hills of County Down as Santa took them everywhere on his bumper fairytale ride around the homes of his favourite cricketers. Deluxe dictionaries were delivered to a bevy of website pundits, and new bats, balls and cricket gear were dished out aplenty. He had just delivered a big wooden spoon for stirring the pot to an old codger in Buckna and was weaving his way home around the country roads at great speed when Rudolph was startled by a small green object on the side of the ditch and fell badly on his leg. Santa pulled up immediately and rushed to his fallen trooper, but he was immediately confronted by a strange little man with a pixie hat and long grey beard, who looked very inebriated and was not short of giving advice!
“You are a silly old bugger racing recklessly around the countryside dressed as a clown with no respect for local people making their way home on this cold wintery night.”
“And who are you?” said Santa, looking down on his winkled little snow-covered face. “I’m Breen the King from Antrim, the doyen of all leprechauns, and you nearly made six little fairies orphans.”
“I don’t believe in fairies,” said Santa.
“And I don’t believe in Santa” said the cocky little pixie as they exchanged barbs in four feet of snow. “OK” said King Breen, “I’ll grant you three wishes if you deliver presents to my six children.”
Santa thought for a moment and looking at his wounded champion reindeer he was in a predicament and needed help. Also this was one way of testing the leprechaun’s status so he took up the offer. The two unlikely soul mates then sat down on the side of the sleigh and Breen took out his hip flask and offered Santa a swig of Bushmills Whisky. The genial philanthropist accepted with relish, and then put his mind to his three wishes. He wanted to help all the cricketers in Ulster, but Rudolph looked helpless with his damaged leg so he said, “I’d like Rudolph’s leg mended with my first wish.”
Almost immediately there was a great puff of smoke and Rudolph bounced up fully recovered and ready to get back on the road home to Lapland. Santa was very impressed, so he now turned his thoughts to good cricket deeds. He particularly wanted to leave something substantial to all his favourite cricketers, so after another swig of Bushmills, he said,” For my second wish I’d like every cricket ground in Ulster to have covers, sightscreens, clubhouses and seating all around the ground. Once again there was a huge puff of smoke and Santa was shot up into the air five hundred feet and from there he could see every cricket ground in Ulster turned into beautiful little stadiums within their own puffs of smoke. Santa was gently brought back down to the roadside where King Breen had all but finished the whisky. “Hurry up you sentimental old fool, take a million pounds and a big house like everyone else and let me go home.” But Santa was deep in thought and when he finally made up his mind he said, ”For my final wish I’d like an NCU club to win the Irish Senior Cup next season.”
“Agh Jesus, Santa, even I couldn’t pull that one off!”
King Breen disappeared in another puff of smoke.
Happy Christmas everyone!
