Monday night, a delegation of players landed back the house. Expecting them, I left them knocking for ten minutes.

Solemn, apologetic faces on them like nephews at a failing bachelor uncle’s bedside, and speculation he’s going intestate.

I faced them with my back turned, and grunted to indicate I wasn’t paying their explanations much sut.

They stuttered. "…long hard look…completely out of order... least a man and his wife are entitled to is a night’s sleep…few women down from Donegal…stray bit of talent…knew we were wrong when you came to the window, Noel…felt very bad about it…didn’t help our performance…"

"He’s doing you proud, Noel," said Nancy, excitedly, facing into the second 100 press-ups Thursday night, "he’s them dangling there like screaming groupies. Gently now, Adrian, don’t panic the hoop and they’ll fire money at you like a three-card trick man in Ballybrit."

I must confess Dragon’s Den Prep School has been successful thus far – young Micheal and Donall want to make Nancy and me the public faces of pedigreecattle.ie, and, in the spirit of assisting those fine young entrepreneurs, rural get-up-and-go men like myself and Nancy, I might just set aside my lifelong inclination towards a low profile.

I’ve always done things differently.

"I’m not your typical dyed-in-the-wool mentor," I told the Ballybore minors the first year I took them over, 1955, "You are modern young men, not one bit like my generation growing up, when all we had was the game of football in the meadow of an evening, and a marquee dance every two months."

They appreciated the empathy. Well I remember that year, and the exasperation of the club executive when I hired a bus to bring the team to the cinema for team morale. Most of the lads had barely seen the inside of a bus before, let alone the inside of the Carlton inside in town, before.

I always endeavour to be helpful to the media. Murt Murrihy, veteran photographer for The County News, will vouch for my affability whenever he asks me to stand in for a snap.

It’s not that I enjoy being in the limelight, but if it means to a lot to a young fellow who has just been awarded U10 player of the year to have me in the picture, I’m happy to oblige.

At Tuesday night’s training, I overheard JP Darmody make much the same point to Frank Lyons. "Frank," he said, in his endearingly gentle way, "we had so many cuttings of Noel up on the wall beside the Sacred Heart, I grew up thinking he was bigger than God."