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SUNDAY WORLD - for the best in Entertainment
Thursday, 9 Sep 2010
you are here: home Pub Spy

IF you come to Listowel for no other reason than to pay homage to John B, it's well worth the trip, the Old Commando said.
We were standing in the market square admiring the bronze statue of the great playwright - or "looking for inspiration", as the 'auld fella' said.
John B inspired us all right - to go for a pint. And where better than his own pub just down the street.
A ladyfriend of ours had met his widow earlier in the day and was utterly charmed. Mrs Keane made her feel at home in the place and they had a lively chat about the topics of the day. Clearly she shared the late John B's sharp intellect and empathy for people.
The lady of the house wasn't there when we called in later in the evening but the young bar staff made us feel very welcome.
Two of us were massive John B fans so we spent a good while looking at the framed posters from his plays all over the walls.
The Munster Commando shook his head and sighed. "There's a man who understood what made people tick. His scathing insight into the Irish psyche resonates with people the world over."
The other two laughed at his turn of phrase and said he sounded like one of those literary buffs who'd come down to Listowel for Writers' Week. John B would never say something arty farty like that, the Old Commando pointed out, adding: "He must be looking down on you and laughing."
We were fascinated by an abstract painting of a man - it turned out to be John B's brother.There was also a picture of the late Samuel Beckett looking very serious, as if he had been Waiting for Godot way too long.
We didn't have to wait too long for our lovely creamy pints which went down a treat at a very reasonable €3.75.
We loved the cosy atmosphere in the place. It was like being in your own living room - if you happened to live in a very nice house with lots of friends.
Other genuine touches included the cushions on the wooden seats - none of the patterns matched. Pub Spy found this very refreshing, as he is fed up seeing matchmatchy furniture in fake rustic pubs.
The green wooden door leading to the toilets was decorated in a golfer motif. Above this we read "Billy Keane's hall of fame". Billy is, of course, John B's son who writes a very eloquent sports column in another newspaper.The toilets were faultless.
We had only one gripe: the corner boys, made famous by John B, seemed to have deserted their post across the street. His widow spoke with nostalgia about them to our friend earlier. "They left a dent in the wall," she laughed, adding that she much preferred them to today's rowdy lads.
A bunch of dentists on a stag party had been the worst, behaving like unruly children, she said. She put up a sign on the door warning stags that they are not welcome.
We have to agree with her and hope we weren't mistaken for a mini-stag party.
Meanwhile, we are going to launch a campaign to bring back the corner boys who, back in the Auld Commando's youth, could be found next or near every pub in the land.
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