'Next up on BBC Belfast. - Mummy's boy Gareth May'

In seven days I've experienced more snowballing than Dartmoor in the 1980s, and just as much fun. Swishing down a glacial hill top on a dinner tray is not usually compared to radio interviews but I'll give it a go. The ducking and diving, thinking on your feet and stumbling before crashing into a tree...OK the analogy doesn't really work but at least I tried. My first interview was on Tuesday for Three Counties BBC Radio. I held my own. Cracked a joke involving a can of Carling, a massage and Red Rum - it would take too long to explain - and got accused of being 'great fun to go out with.' I'm guessing the host was being sarcastic with that comment. My heart may have been beating faster than a teenager's whose just seen his first nipple on Eurovision but the nerves only spurred me on and before I knew it the producer was thanking me and placing the phone back down with a sudden 'click.'

Thursday came and I had an interview with Alan Jenkins at BBC Ulster. A lovely chap indeed. Telling me he couldn't spell DIY and always 'placed a bucket under a gas leak' he made me feel very welcome and drew a cackling laugh from my lips at least twice during the fifteen minutes of converse. I hope my shrieking didn't send too many 9-5ers veering into the central reservation. I was more concise and articulate. Things, I told myself in true D-Ream style, can only get better. How wrong I was.

Friday morning I was lined up to take part in a debate on BBC Belfast with Stephen Nolan and a builder named Brodey, Bodley, or Barkley. You'll be pleased to hear I called him all three of them, well one out of three isn't bad is it. Anyway, I was prepared with a light-hearted exchange and started off the debate in an earnest and polite way. He on the other hand, went straight for the jugular. 'I think yer man there is pampered. Still hanging onto his mummy's apron strings.' For a minute I thought they'd invited my dad on. I tried to calm the situation by appealing to him personally and stating that 'yes, some of my generation are lazy.' He was on it like a cat to a rat. ' He's talking about himself there. Lazy that's what he is.' This guy was a real charmer. A true gent. I had to stop myself asking him if he did children's parties at one stage.

All joking aside, once the dust had settled and I'd had the final say I felt pretty pumped up. If you stick your head above the parapet you've got to expect to get shot at and that's exactly what happened. I dodged a few, took a few for the team but caught at least one bullet between my teeth. It was heartening to find myself defending what I believe in in the face of, well absurdity, rather than adversity. There was no doubting the guy was after me. Well, good luck to him. I'm not turning around now. Snowballs don't stop for nothing. Even angry builders with a strange interest in apron strings. Although, having said that, pinnies can be quite appealing, in the right light.