JOCK: Marvellous looker, Geoff. Couldn’t keep my eyes off her.

GEOFF: She’s a beautiful girl.

JOCK: So what’s your problem?

GEOFF: It’s so bloody embarrassing.

JOCK: Get it off your chest.

GEOFF: You’ll keep it absolutely secret, Jock. It’d destroy me if it ever got out.

JOCK: It won’t get past this room, lad.

GEOFF: It’s not that I’m not attracted to women, Jock. I am. Desperately attracted. But when it gets to the vital…

Pause.

JOCK: Can’t you get your act together?

GEOFF shakes his head morosely.

Hell.

GEOFF: For Christ’s sake keep that to yourself, Jock.

JOCK: Maybe you’re training too hard. I could never get it up on Saturday night after a match. Have you—er—always had—er—this sort of problem?

GEOFF: No. At one stage of my life I had no problem at all.

JOCK: Mind you, you’re not the only one. There was an article in the Sunday paper that said that the young men of the nation were being swept by an epidemic of impotence. Woman has become the hunter and man the hunted. Bloody unnatural.

GEOFF: I don’t think it’s that.

JOCK: Have you seen a doctor?

GEOFF: Yes. There’s nothing wrong with me physically. It’s up here.

GEOFF taps his head.

JOCK: Yeah, well I’m a bit suspicious of these psychological explanations. Nothing up there (tapping his head) could’ve stopped my old trooper rising to the occasion. Are you sure you’re not training too hard?

GEOFF: It’s not that. It’s my family.

JOCK: Your family?

GEOFF: They’ve screwed me up. In more ways than one.

JOCK: Yeah?

GEOFF: You don’t mind me telling you this, Jock?

JOCK: No, not at all.

GEOFF: It gets pretty sordid.

JOCK: Fire away.

GEOFF: It won’t get past this room?

JOCK: Certainly won’t.

GEOFF: Have I ever talked to you about my sister?

JOCK: No. I didn’t know you had one.

GEOFF: I don’t speak about her very often. She was in a serious car accident the night before her eighteenth birthday. I was only fourteen.

JOCK: Badly hurt?

GEOFF: Very. Both legs were amputated above the knee.

JOCK: Hell.