Few things strike terror in the heart of a man (aside from the footie being cancelled) than having to make a best man’s speech.

Recently, Dave, my better half, had the honour of being best man for his brother. Of course, at the time, Dave was delighted to be asked but when the sentimental warmth of brotherly love wore off, fear struck.

Now, I’ve never known anyone who’d risk breaking their neck in order to get up to make a speech but for Dave it was a particularly slow shuffle to the top table. Being of a shy disposition, Dave’s tortured memories of having to read at school never waned and came flooding back ten-fold every time he thought of making a speech.

And I wasn’t much help either. With a book launch looming, I was most likely expected to say a few words too, which I have to say I wasn’t breaking my neck to do either.

It was ridiculous. Here we were in a constant state of fret over having to say a few simple words. And the apprehension of having to speak in front of people you know for fear of criticism. That’s even more ridiculous.

In fairness, though, I got the long straw. At most, my speech would consist of, “good night, safe home and god bless.” Dave would be expected to serve up fifteen minutes of stand-up with the profiteroles. Being a best man is a tough call. But not for the likes of my brother Bryan.

Having inherited his father’s gift of the gab, our Bryan relished the best man role which is why I referred Dave on to him. Big mistake. My brother’s tactful advice to a shyaholic was: a) make it up as you go along and b) be very funny or they’ll get bored. Being a true gentleman, Dave thanked my brother politely, hung up the phone then glowered at me. Somehow, it was my fault he was prone to mind-blankness and that he at his own admission was not a born comedian.

So the next person to be drafted in to help with the best man speech was Paul McKenna. Dave decided he was going to hypnotise himself into this speech but unfortunately Paul McKenna never came off our bookshelf and three months passed by with no mention of the best man speech… until we took a trip home to Monaghan and met our Bryan enjoying the after-glow of his best friend’s wedding.

Apparently, Bryan had delivered the mother of all best man’s speeches, and when Dave heard footage of which was now showing in the local pub he went a bit pale. After that there wasn’t a word about speeches.

Until the evening before the wedding, when he decided he would Google. Now common sense would dictate that the last thing you’re going to do the night before any presentation or event is trawl the internet.

Once you were in cyber space you were lost forever and there wasn’t time for that. Having had enough, I grabbed pen and paper and we dashed to the nearest pub. First we ate, then we got down to it (writing the best man speech I mean). We agreed to:

Keep it simple
Speak from the heart
Include one good memory of
growing up with his brother
Say a few thank you’s
Then wrap it up.

In one hour, we had a three minute speech. Plenty. There was even time to type it up and print it out.

The wedding came and went just like every other wedding. The speech was simple, no special effects apart from the raucous laughs of Dave’s mother Esther. Like most mothers, Esther thinks her son is perfect at everything he does.