Eamonn Fitzgerald's Rainy Day

Next Sunday evening, Rainy Day will join a gathering of flash coves in Dublin's historic Gate Theatre for the main event of the Dublin Writers Festival: Christopher Hitchens versus John Waters. These two "prime gluttons", to use the gladiatorial nomenclature of Pierce Egan (1772-1849), the Geoffrey Chaucer of pugilism, will dispute religion under the banner of God Is Not Great?

Hitchens enters the ring as a champion possessing courage and unquenchable spirit, or as Egan, the author of the transcendent Boxiana, would have put it, "great bottom". John Waters, on the other hand, is all but unknown beyond the island of saints and scholars, and unless he can display considerable science in verbal milling and hammering, a chancery-suit upon the nob awaits him. Sorry about that, but this Boxiana stuff is addictive. Anyway it should be a great occasion and, as in the days of Egan, when such a bout would have attracted legions of "Cyprians and Corinthians", grand entertainment is to be expected.

A critical decision facing all coves on these occasions is whether to opt for Blue Ruin or Heavy Wet. In Egan's time, Blue Ruin was another name for gin, while Heavy Wet was ale. Back then, there was a belief that a pint of Heavy Wet, taken after every gill of Blue Ruin, would keep the drinker sober longer. Dutch Sam, the greatest fighter of his age, trained on Blue Ruin and when, in 1814, at the age of 39, he succumbed in only 38 rounds to Bill Nosworthy, the Baker, they all said that if he had stuck to Heavy Wet he would not have had such a premature downfall. More tomorrow, but less of the drink and more of the divine.