Ross O’Carroll-Kelly

I've had some pretty bad New Year's Eves in my life. But this one was officially... The! Worst! Ever!

My wife had just given birth to a baby that wasn't mine. My son had just walked out on his bride-to-be on the eve of their wedding. And my old dear was making threats of revenge against me for allowing her to choke on the olive from her breakfast Martini.

Throw into the mix three infant sons who were banned from every public park and children's play centre in the city; a father who was working with dodgy Russian business interests to put himself in the Taoiseach's office; and a daughter who was about to do something truly shocking - even by her standards.

But then, one day, totally out of the blue, I received a very unexpected phone call...

And let's just say that Schmidt got real.

South Dublin's favourite son thought he could face any challenge - until he was asked to cross the bridge over the River Dargle.

For Ross O'Carroll-Kelly - schools rugby hero, celebrated bon vivant and lover of beautiful women - life has suddenly become complicated.

His father has been accused of rigging a General Election, his seventy-year-old mother is about to bring six surrogate babies into the world, and his daughter is being hailed as 'Ireland's answer to Greta Thunberg', telling everyone who cares to listen that the end of the world is nigh.

As if that wasn't bad enough, the Greatest Rugby Player Never to Play for Ireland has a nagging sense that he has to more to contribute to the beautiful game.

Now he's been offered a job coaching an underachieving school who've been waiting almost a century for their moment of glory. The challenge is to persuade a collection of jokers, chokers and forty-a-day smokers that they have what it takes to win the Leinster Schools Senior Cup.

The only drawback ... the school is in Bray!

The No 1 Bestseller!

When a shameless rugby legend and a distinguished grey lady get together sparks are bound to fly.

And when that legend is South Dublin's favourite socialite, Ross O'Carroll-Kelly, and the grey lady is the Irish Times, the result is, well, legendary. From locked-in in Donnybrook to locked-down in Killiney, Ross and the old gal have been through a lot. Now, you can enjoy the very best of his efforts to keep her entertained . . .

- His adventures with the Mount Anville Moms WhatsApp group
- His daughter Honor's infamous production of South Side Story
- His father's court battles with Denis O'Brien
- His wife Sorcha's efforts to force her banana bread on the neighbours
- His son Ronan's attempt to make it as a Mixed Martial Arts fighter

From the sheer joy of taking his feral triplets to their first Ireland v. England match, to the sheer misery of Kiely's pub (his spiritual home) closing down, to the pants-shitting tension of taking Honor to Electric Picnic - they're all here!

And this new edition includes all new material from 2021 - lest we forget!

As the Grey Lady herself would no doubt say: 'That was some ride, Ross!'


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'The single greatest chronicler of our times' Irish Independent

'A terrific collection' Pat Kenny, Newstalk

A love affair born in rural Ireland! Two mismatched lovers, locked in a relationship that will change both of them . . . forever!

Ross O'Carroll-Kelly was brought up to believe that Gaelic games were invented for people too stupid to understand the laws of rugby. Little did he know that one day he would become a legend of Kerry football.

But then, his life has taken a lot of unexpected twists and turns.

His father is the Taoiseach of the country. His wife is an actual Government Minister. And his suddenly teenage daughter is heading for the Gaeltacht - and her very first rugby boyfriend.
And then there's Marianne . . .

Of course, Ross was too busy becoming a Gaelic football star to realise that his family - like the entire country - was being pushed towards a cliff edge. And he was the only man capable of saving Ireland's democracy.

Which is just like, 'Fooooooock!'

Ireland, Ireland - no longer standing Dáil ...

Leinster House had been burned to the ground. All that was left was a smouldering ruin and the blackened remains of an Irish flag.

The old man was trying to pin the blame on Brussels, but I knew the actual truth? Unfortunately, Sorcha was too angry with me for having sex with our daughter's Irish teacher to listen.

But I had, like, other irons in the - pordon the pun - fire. I'd just become Head Coach of the Ireland rugby team - albeit, women.

The country might well have been focked. But very soon, we had everyone believing in fairy tales again.

And it all happened once upon a time in . . . Donnybrook

'The name's O'Carroll-Kelly. Ross O'Carroll-Kelly.'

As the great James Bond said, 'History isn't kind to men who play God.' How right the dude ended up being.

My secret double-life was finally catching up with me. Sorcha wanted a divorce. I was facing jail time for taking my orse out in a pub in Cork. And there was a very good chance that my sister-in-law's surrogate baby was actually mine? One by one, all of the goys turned their backs on me. Then came an unexpected plot twist. From beyond the grave, Fr Fehily - the M and the Q to our Leinster Schools Senior Cup-winning team - sent us all on one final mission . . . To walk the Camino - or die trying!

It's, like, double oh fock!

It looked like it was Game Over for the Rossmeister General.

I was staring down the barrel of the big four-oh! And what did I have to show for it?

I was an out-of-work rugby coach who was soon to be divorced. My old dear was sliding away in a nursing home in a certain suburb of West Dublin. And my old man had brought the country to the verge of, like, nuclear annihilation.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, my teenage daughter was in love again. My sister-in-law was about to give birth to a baby that was possibly mine. And Castlerock College was about to go – I can’t even say the word – co-ed.

People kept saying that we were facing Ormageddon. But I was like, ‘Hey, it’s not the end of the world.’

Because Father Fehily used to say, ‘Sometimes good things come to an end so that better things can come to a beginning.’