I was listening to Morning Ireland on the way to work this morning. During the course of the programme, the disturbing news was imparted by David Hanly that there had been a promotion in a pub over the weekend.

David is a man who has had the odd dram in his time, and so it was hard to tell whether or not his tongue was nestling daintily in his cheek, as he went about pursuing the story with his customary gravitas. There were a few moments when I imagined that he was about to break into uproarious laughter. But that was probably just me!

The promotion had been run in a bar in Blackrock. It was a simple idea: men paid 40 Euro entrance fee and women 25 to get into the pub on Saturday night. Having paid the entrance fee, they could drink as much (or as little!) as they liked. A fellow from the bar was in the studio, to explain what it was all about and how it had gone. He had yet to do the figures, he said, but he’d be very surprised if it wasn’t good news all the way for the owners of the pub. It had been a great success. And what’s more there hadn’t been any problems with public (dis)order.

“How many pints would you have to drink to make it worth your while?” David Hanly asked the bloke from the pub. “Ten?” The mind boggled.

There was a fellow on too from the Rutland Centre, where people are treated for various addictions. He was indignant about the whole thing. There should be a law against it, he insisted. People should not be allowed to give out free drink in this way.

The more he expounded on this theme, of the need for even greater prohibitionist impositions, the more absurd it all seemed. Have people forgotten that it is a free country? That we are entitled to make choices for ourselves. That there are laws to deal with issues of public disorder and drunkenness. And that otherwise, you actually do have the right to drink as much tea, coffee, lemonade, wine or whiskey as you like.

Drinking too much of any or all of the above might not be recommended. But the fact that you now have people who feel emboldened enough to suggest that you shouldn’t be allowed to give out free drink is frankly a piece of madness which reflects the crazy level of control-freakery that has taken hold in Ireland over the past few years.

Well, to add to the gaiety, my own suggestion is that there should be a total ban on parties – they can, after all, turn into occasions where people drink too much. Especially World Cup parties. The phrase “the drinks are on the house” should be extirpated from our collective vocabulary. And anyone who gives a free drink – especially to a politician or a garda – should be bound in irons and cast into the deepest recesses of Mountjoy jail for as long as it takes to get them to repent of their evil ways.

It is as well that we are agreed on that, because with the appointment of Brian Kerr as the new manager of the Irish football team, there is certainly plenty of cause for optimism that there may be a few World Cup Occasions on the way, which it is important that we should not be allowed to celebrate. If you follow me.

It was a fun few months there, watching the newspapers speculate as to who might be the most likely candidate to step into Mick McCarthy’s boots. Paddy Power stoked things up nicely, and the betting was fierce, I’m sure, with mug punters sticking their shillings down on the likes of Bryan Robson, Peter Reid and Frank Stapleton. (Now that I think about it, betting should be banned as well. Especially those free bets that are being advertised a lot at the moment. But I digress.)

As Brian Kerr might say, it was all me bollix. Indeed, you’d be forced to wonder had the boys in Merrion Square done a deal with the bookies that they’d get half the profits from the inevitable betting, if they dragged the process out for a couple of months. (Would you put it past them? Watching the latest Square-gate fiasco, in relation to the £100,000 bonus paid to Mick McCarthy, I certainly wouldn’t).

The gas thing is that, for once, they actually got it right in the end. While there was a certain bizarre frisson, contemplating the prospect of what Phillipe Troussier might do with the Ireland team – and how he might deal with the lads in the FAI along the way – there is no doubt that Kerr is the best choice.

It is simply wrong to suggest that you have to have done it as a player, to make it as a manager. To take just the two most celebrated cases close to home, neither Alex Ferguson nor Arsene Wenger ever played at the highest level. In fact recent history has tended to support the idea that the best managers come from the ranks of failed or second-rate players. In that respect, far from being at a disadvantage, Brian Kerr may indeed have the most appropriate credentials: he wasn’t much of a ball-player!

The truth is that he has already proven himself as a manager, working with the Irish under-age international teams. All of the players who operated under his remit seem to think very highly of him. Many of the current Irish squad are already familiar with him, and they know the way he thinks. They will be completely at home with him and with the way he goes about organising the team and its tactics. So the omens have to be positive.

There is a leap of faith involved, for sure – but is it any bigger than would have been required to believe that Bryan Robson, Kevin Moran or Troussier could do the job? Certainly not.

During the inter-regnum, the papers had been banging on about the Keane Issue, suggesting that the ability to deliver the Manchester United captain would be a vital factor in the final decision as to who would manage Ireland. In relation to this, there is now no room for equivocation: if Roy Keane thinks he is too important or too successful or too good to play under Brian Kerr, then we don’t want him.

I say that, believing that he really does want to play for Ireland, and believing also that he is far too substantial and intelligent an individual to turn his nose up at the prospect of donning the green again, on such a spurious basis. I might be wrong, but I trust – and hope – not.

The feeling is that Keane would probably appreciate Kerr’s approach. That the new manager’s passion and commitment would mirror what the Corkman brings to the party, on the playing field. That his professionalism and attention to detail would brook no criticism. And that Kerr is subtle and smart enough, and good enough with people, to make a personal connection with our finest player.

The prospect is a thrilling one. Because if Brian Kerr does bring it al together, then it will be a genuine home-grown triumph – and all the sweeter as a result.

He’s a fine bloke, what’s more, and one who knows his rock’n’roll and his blues – a sure sign of good taste and decorum! We wish him the best.

It could be a marvellous trip.