SAYING that we had Irish Draughts on the farm years ago is the same as saying your house had a front door. A given. My father was part of the post-WWII generation that went to work in England and then around the world - Argentina, Cyprus, Cuba, Hong Kong, Libya and Nigeria were some of his ports of call while working for the now-defunct BICC Corporation.

He and two British workmates were picked up once by the Argentinian police - ignoring the Buenos Aires nighttime curfew during the Junta regime wasn’t their wisest move. When a British Consul staff member went to bail the trio out of jail, two forlorn ‘gringos’ were waiting in a cell and Peter Finnerty was drinking whiskey with the policemen and teaching his new best mates how to play ’25’ card games.