‘Carey would sooner play the Bs prop on the wing than move me up. I’m stuck with the Cs forever,’ said Alan, gloomily.
‘We should organise a couple of training sessions ourselves on one of the out-of-the-way pitches,’ said Eoin, ‘Brian said he used to practise on his own.’
‘Who’s Brian?’ asked Alan.
‘Just this guy I met in the Aviva,’ said Eoin.
‘Where in the Aviva?’ asked Alan.
‘In the First Aid room. I got a bit lost looking for the loo,’ explained Eoin.
‘You’re lucky Finn didn’t catch you, they go mad if you go off on your own like that,’ said Alan. ‘Anyway, let’s have a look at trying a few things, it can’t be any worse than it is.’
On Sunday morning all the boarders were expected at the college chapel for nine o’clock mass. Eoin and Alan joined the service, with their tracksuits and boots stuffed in backpacks hidden under the benches.
As mass ended, they scarpered around the side of the chapel, terrified that they would be seen. There was nothing wrong with what they were planning, but if it got out it would only provide more ammunition for Duffy and his cronies.
When the coast was clear they wandered down through the bushes and undergrowth to a quiet corner of the school grounds. The tall trees blocked the view of the school so the pair could practise in peace.
‘How about we start with me trying to tackle you, and you trying to dodge me,’ said Eoin. ‘We’re both weak at those things.’
Eoin had read through Mr Finn’s book the night before and had picked up some insights into the art of tackling. Mr Finn made the point that tackling was not about physical power – it was about technique more than anything, with mental strength being just as important as physical strength.
Alan picked up the ball and, standing twenty yards away, started to run towards Eoin. Alan took a couple of steps to his right, trying to run past Eoin, who dived headlong at Alan’s feet.
‘Ouch,’ roared Eoin, as Alan’s heels clattered into his face. The winger toppled over, but Eoin was left writhing on the ground in agony.
‘Too low,’ said Alan. ‘You’ve got to aim for the middle of my thigh – use the end of a player’s shorts as the target.’
‘So it’s your fault, then,’ joked Eoin, ‘Wearing that tracksuit confused me!’
‘You have to get nearer to the player too,’ said Alan, ‘You should be trying to hit with your shoulder, not your hands and arms.’
They practised for twenty minutes before Eoin got the hang of it. They then took turns playing the other’s role, which was less successful as Eoin was always able to avoid Alan’s tackle.
To finish off their session they stood forty yards apart and kicked the ball high in the air towards the other. Eoin’s gaelic football skills meant he was always quick to reach for the ball and take it cleanly. Alan was less successful, but started to develop a technique of getting underneath the ball and having his arms ready to hug it to his chest.
‘Let’s call it a day,’ said Alan, as he dropped the ball for the umpteenth time. ‘The ball’s getting slippery with all these wet leaves. That was good fun though.’
They walked back to the school, working out plans for their Sunday afternoon. Arsenal on the TV seemed the best bet.
As they reached the door, Miss O’Dea came out, looking flustered.
‘Eoin Madden, where have you been? We’ve been looking for you everywhere,’ she told him.
‘Why, Miss, what’s wrong?’
‘Your father has rung the school four times this morning. Come with me, you can use the staff room telephone to call him back.’
Eoin dashed up the steps in pursuit of Miss O’Dea, leaving Alan standing holding the ball.
‘Dad?’ he asked, as the phone was answered in Ormondstown.
‘Oh, Eoin, thank God, we were just about to leave. Where have you been?’
‘I’ve been out playing rugby with Alan. What’s wrong?’
‘It’s Grandad, he’s had a turn. The ambulance came for him. They’ve taken him to Dublin. We’ll collect you at three o’clock.’
CHAPTER 13
Eoin was terrified. He knew his grandad hadn’t been in good health for a while, but he had always been a huge part of his life and Eoin couldn’t bear to think of what it would be like without him.
He thanked Miss O’Dea and as he walked out the door of the staff room he bumped into Mr Finn.
‘Sir, I’ve had some bad news about Grandad.’
‘Dixie …’ gasped the teacher, his face falling.
‘He’s been taken to hospital up in Dublin, sir. I’m not sure what’s wrong with him, but my parents are collecting me at three o’clock.’
‘I’m very sorry to hear that, Eoin,’ said Mr Finn, ‘please give him my very best wishes. And do come and tell me the news when you return to the school.’
Eoin took his time walking back to the dormitory.
Alan had filled in Kevin, Anton, Fiachra and Rory on the drama and they were all silent when Eoin arrived in the room.
He stopped at the door once again, gently running his fingers along the plaque carrying the name of the dormitory.
‘It’s Grandad,’ he said. ‘I’ll be going to the hospital at three. Hopefully he’ll be fine.’
The boys looked shocked, even a little upset, and Fiachra seemed to avoiding his stare. But then Eoin remembered that the name ‘Dixie Madden’ still meant a lot to these lads who’d never even met his grandad.
‘He’s a tough old guy,’ he said, unconvincingly.
Eoin didn’t bother going down for lunch, even though he was hungry after the morning’s run-out.
He lay on the bed, going through all the times he had with his grandad, but trying hard not to think that there mightn’t be any more. Grandad never missed a school sports day, or a gaelic match, or even that stupid school play when Eoin had to dress up as a giant chicken. And everything Eoin had learned about nature and wildlife came on those regular Sunday morning walks between mass and his mother’s roast lunch.
He thought, too, of the mystery of Dixie’s rugby career and grew angry with himself that he hadn’t talked to his grandfather about it back home in Ormondstown.
Alan and Rory came up to the dorm after Sunday lunch, sneaking in a couple of bread rolls for Eoin.
‘Thanks guys,’ he said, as he munched into the crusty bread. ‘I couldn’t face the rest of the school.’
‘I don’t blame you,’ said Rory, ‘Richie Duffy was asking where you were. I told him you were off having a trial for Leinster Under 13s!’
‘Ha, ha,’ chuckled Eoin, before realising Duffy would surely find out the truth and make his life even more difficult.
‘You better hurry up with those,’ said Alan, ‘it’s five to three.’
Eoin grabbed his hoodie and waved farewell to his pals as he dashed off, continuing to chew the rolls.
Outside he waited at the top of the long driveway until he saw the silver car come through the gates. He set off at a trot down the drive, meeting the car just as it came around a bend.
‘God, Eoin, you gave me a fright,’ said his dad.
‘That makes two of us,’ said Eoin, ‘What’s wrong with Grandad?’
‘He had a bit of a turn, something to do with his heart,’ said Dad, ‘I just rang the hospital and he’s already settled in. We’ll go straight there now.’
‘Hi, Mum,’ said Eoin, as he hopped into the back seat of the car.
‘You look like you’ve lost weight, are you eating properly?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, the food’s not too bad. I missed lunch, though, any chance we can grab a burger on the way?’
Eoin sat munching in the waiting room as his dad talked to the doctors. Grandad was asleep and wouldn’t be able to see anyone until the morning, but they could go in and look at him for a moment.
Eoin held his mother’s hand as they walked into the darkened room with lots of machines with blinking lights and
tubes.
He whispered, ‘Hi Dixie, make sure you hang in there. We’ve a lot to talk about it,’ so quietly that even his mum couldn’t hear him.
The family sat around the waiting room for an hour, just chatting over things and swopping the news from school and home. Despite the circumstances, the afternoon cheered up Eoin greatly and he had a smile on his face as he hugged his mum goodbye outside the school.
He called by the staff common room to fill Mr Finn in on the news and the teacher thanked him.
As Eoin turned to leave, he hesitated for a moment, before turning back to face the teacher.
‘Mr Finn. Why did Grandad not play for Ireland if he was as good as everyone says he was?’
‘Oh, Eoin, you poor lad,’ said the old man slowly, his eyes looking as sad as Eoin had ever seen on anyone. ‘That’s a story that only Dixie himself can tell you. Do you know, I think about him almost every day and every time I wince with regret and pain. But I’m sorry, it would be quite wrong of me to tell you that story. Now, off to the dorm with you, it’s coming up to lights out.’
Eoin jogged up the stairs and kept moving quickly through the dormitory. He made it plain to his room-mates that he wasn’t in a chatty mood and so they steered well clear of him.
Sleep didn’t come easy, but by the time it did Eoin’s pillow was soaked.
CHAPTER 14
Dixie’s health improved, and Eoin’s parents were able to go home to Tipperary after a week or so. Eoin enjoyed seeing his parents: each day they collected him after homework, brought him out for a meal and then took him down to visit the hospital.
The three of them sat with Dixie for half an hour each evening, keeping him amused with little stories of life back home. As they got up to leave one night, he called Eoin back for a quiet word.
‘I hear you’re getting on well at the rugby. It must be hard for you to take it up when everything else is so new to you too. But stick at it, Eoin; it’s the most fantastic fun. When I look back on my life I reckon my rugby days were the happiest of all …’
‘I’m doing OK,’ said Eoin, ‘but I’m still struggling with a lot of things.’
‘Well, you must tell me about them next time. Is Andy Finn still coaching there?’
‘No,’ said Eoin, ‘He teaches me History, but he’s not involved with rugby any more. He told me he used to play with you.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Can I ask you a question, Grandad?’ he said.
The old man stopped and looked into Eoin’s eyes.
‘I know what you’re going to ask me, and I’m afraid I’m not going to answer you now. It would be very upsetting to go over it all again, and I don’t have my strength. But I’ll tell you what. The first Six Nations game of the year is in February. If I’m out and about I’ll bring you to that game and we’ll have a great day out. And I’ll tell you the whole story of my rugby career, if it’s not too boring …’
Eoin stood up and smiled.
‘That would be brilliant, Grandad, I hope you get better really soon.’
Back on the Bs, a grudge match against the B team of their local rival St Paschal’s turned into a landslide win for Castlerock, with Eoin clearly the star player. Even still, it was quite a shock for Eoin when he heard the news.
‘You’re on the As,’ blurted Rory as he ran up the corridor early one morning. ‘At inside centre!’
Eoin went white. ‘Oh no …’ he said.
‘Whaaaat?’ said Rory, ‘that’s a fantastic honour! You only took the game up three months ago and here you are on the Castlerock first fifteen for the first round of the Under 13 Cup. That’s unheard of!’
Eoin couldn’t share in Rory’s delight, and as he saw Alan’s face he knew that his friend understood too.
‘Hang on, Rory,’ said Alan, ‘Flanagan plays inside centre for the Bs, and he’s Duffy’s best mate, they’re not going to be delighted about him being dropped.’
‘And I’m sure Richie won’t be too keen on having me standing next to him,’ grumbled Eoin.
Alan was right. Richie Duffy’s face was the colour of a Welsh jersey when he saw Eoin enter the classroom.
The teacher was already writing on the blackboard, so Duffy couldn’t say anything aloud. But Eoin got his message quite clearly when the class bully pointed to the side of his neck and drew his finger across slowly to the other side.
The day passed far too slowly for Eoin’s liking, and more than once a teacher had to disturb him from his daydream as he tried to work out a way to get out of the mess. He wasn’t afraid of Duffy really, but he was only new to rugby and had so much more to learn about the game. Playing ‘A’ team cup rugby for the school was a serious responsibility in Castlerock.
Eoin’s dad rang that evening.
‘Eoin, what do you say about going to see Munster play Leinster at the Aviva? It’s on Friday night and I can pick you up from school.’
‘That would be great, Dad, but won’t I have to be back before nine o’clock? I have a big match on Saturday morning.’
‘Go and ask Mr Finn for permission, I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.’
Mr Finn was indeed fine, extending Eoin’s curfew to ten o’clock with a special pass. He asked how Eoin’s grandfather was feeling and again asked him to pass on his best wishes.
‘It’s been too long since I saw Dixie, do you think he’d like if I came to visit?’
Eoin wasn’t sure, but told Mr Finn that he’d ask his dad.
CHAPTER 15
Friday arrived, and Eoin was pretty excited about getting to see his first big match. His dad called for him at 4.30pm and they made a quick detour to visit Grandad in hospital.
There were fewer wires around his bed now, and he was in a bright, sunny room with three other men.
‘So you’re off to Lansdowne, Eoin,’ said Dixie, ‘or The Viva I believe they call it now.’
‘The A-viva, Grandad,’ laughed Eoin. ‘I was there on a school tour a while back, it’s an amazing place.’
‘It surely is,’ said Grandad, ‘I saw some amazing players there in my youth – have you ever heard of Jackie Kyle? What an out-half he was. Mike Gibson, Willie John McBride, ah a magical place it was, magical.’
The old man reached over to his locker and produced a fifty euro note.
‘Take this, Kevin,’ he said to Eoin’s dad, handing over the money, ‘and buy the lad a Munster jersey. They’ll need all the support they can get tonight.’
‘Thanks so much, Grandad,’ said a delighted Eoin. ‘I promise I’ll roar them on loud enough for the two of us!’
After a quick detour to the stadium shop to buy the jersey, the Madden father and son took their seats high in the West Stand.
They enjoyed the pre-match atmosphere and Eoin read the programme avidly, picking up more and more details for the rugby database in his brain that Alan had started to fill.
With twenty minutes to kick-off Eoin turned to his dad.
‘I’m starving! Do you fancy a hot dog?’
‘No, I’m fine,’ said his father, ‘Have you enough money?’
‘I’ve a bit of change from the jersey, and I’m famished. I won’t be long.’
Eoin darted down the steep steps, taking care not to miss his footing. He passed the press box, where the reporters were plugging in their laptops and checking the programme against the names on their team-sheets. That looks like a nice job, he thought.
Behind the stand was a large area with souvenir stalls, vending machines and fast food restaurants. Eoin asked a nice girl for a hot dog, and blushed when she smiled at him as she handed him the change.
He looked at his watch as he munched the sausage, and took in his surroundings. The place was thronged with blue shirts, but there were a good number of red ones too.
‘It’s bogger!’ came a cry from behind him.
He turned to see Richie Duffy and Ollie Flanagan pointing at him. The pair were wearing blue Leinster jerseys and the two men with them, presumably their fathers, wore the sa
me, in XXXL sizes.
‘That’s the culchie who’s keeping me off the team,’ spat Flanagan.
‘Well,’ muttered his father, ‘I don’t expect that will be for much longer. Can’t have … Munster men representing Castlerock College at Donnybrook you know.’
Eoin turned away, desperate to escape the mass of blue shirts, and those four in particular.
He ducked around a corner where he found a doorway, which his natural nosiness ensured he opened and entered.
When the floor started to move Eoin got a fright, before he realised he was in some sort of service elevator. He pushed all the buttons and was relieved that no-one was about when the door opened.
Eoin looked around him, seeing a wall completely covered in old team group photographs, which reminded him of the great hall back in Castlerock.
A table was set with a tempting array of hundreds of bite-sized snacks, and Eoin instantly regretted the hot dog he was already digesting.
One side of the room was a glass wall, outside which Eoin could see the floodlights and fans in the opposite grandstand. He realised he was in some sort of VIP area.
‘So it’s a VIP you are, then?’ asked a voice.
Eoin swung around to see Brian who, strangely, was still wearing the black, red and yellow jersey and black shorts.
Eoin pointed to the wall where a group was wearing the same kit. ‘Is that your team?’ he asked.
‘Well, it’s one of the teams that came after me,’ he said. ‘That’s the Lansdowne team of 1981. They won the Senior Cup out there to complete a three-in-a-row. Fantastic team, a tough bunch led by a giant of a man from Kerry called Moss Keane.’
Eoin thought Brian looked a bit young to remember that, but let it slide.
‘I don’t know how I got in here. I’m lost,’ he explained.
‘Sure you’re always getting lost,’ laughed Brian. ‘Are you here for the game?’
‘Yeah, my dad’s upstairs,’ explained Eoin.
‘How’s the rugby going for you,’ asked Brian.
‘Great … well, no, terrible really,’ said Eoin. ‘I’ve been picked for the A team for the cup match, but none of the players want me to play. The game is in the morning and I’m thinking of going sick.’
Rugby Spirit Page 5