On the flight from Miami to New York I was sitting next to an 11 or 12-year-old boy and his father – or his coach.
The kid was a tennis player and the coach (or his father) was talking relentlessly about the weaknesses of the boy, as far as tennis was concerned. At a certain point the kid said: “Your breath is so bad, it’s unbearable. Yes, now you are embarrassed aren’t you?”
At that point I decided that the coach must be the father as well.
But the father/coach didn’t appear embarrassed at all. He ordered a whisky and a coke and he continued his harangue. And strangely enough the kid didn't mind the harangue. He took it as an Irishman takes the rain, with a certain delight.