Two ninety-year old men, Mike and Joe, had been friends all of their lives. When it was clear that Joe was dying, Mike visited him every day. One day Mike said, “Joe, we both loved rugby all our lives, and we played rugby on Saturdays together for so many years. Please do me one favour, when you get to Heaven; somehow you must let me know if there’s rugby there.”
Joe looked up at Mike from his death-bed, “Mike, you’ve been my best mate for many years. If it’s at all possible, I'll do this favour for you.”
Shortly after that, Joe passed on.
At midnight a couple of nights later, Mike was awakened from a sound sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to him, “Mike! Mike!”
“Who is it?” asked Mike, sitting up suddenly. “Who is it?”
“Mike – it’s me, Joe.”
“You're not Joe. Joe just died.”
“I'm telling you, it’s me, Joe,” insisted the voice.
“Joe! Where are you?”
“In heaven”, Joe replied. “I have some very good news and a little bad news.”
“Tell me the good news first,” said Mike.
“The good news,” Joe said, “is that there’s rugby in heaven. Better yet, all of our old friends who died before us are here, too. Better than that, we’re all young again. Better still, it’s always spring-time and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play rugby all we want, and we never get tired.”
“That's beyond my wildest dreams!” said Mike. “So what's the bad news?”
“You’re in the team for Tuesday!”