‘And grandads, of course,’ said Mr Finn, who was standing on the steps of the school. ‘I’ve just had the most wonderful phone call from Dixie, who told me the doctor has told him he is fit and well enough to travel. Your dad pulled some strings to get them nice seats in out of the cold, too.’
Eoin broke into a wide smile, delighted that his Grandad was obviously much better, and that he would get the chance to see him play at the national stadium.
‘Wow,’ he thought, before suddenly realising that his pre-match nerves had increased. ‘I’ll never sleep at all tonight.’
CHAPTER 26
Eoin need not have worried. It was still dark when he woke, but when he walked to the window to check his watch the sun was starting to make an appearance. He watched it for a few minutes, working out where it might be in the sky when the referee blew his whistle seven or eight hours hence.
‘You all right, Eoin?’ came a little voice behind him. ‘Did you sleep much?’
‘Like a baby,’ Eoin replied, ‘I’m just awake. Looks like a nice day for it.’
Alan jumped out of bed to check the skies. ‘Big day for you, buddy. Are your folks coming up?’
‘Yeah – and Grandad too.’
‘Wow, we’ll finally get to see the great Dixie Madden. Could you get me his autograph?’
Eoin stared at Alan. ‘His autograph? Why?’
‘You seem to take this grandad of yours for granted,’ Alan said, pointing at the plaque on the door. ‘He’s a genuine rugby legend.’
‘Rugby legend? Did somebody call me?’ chipped in Rory, who was standing by his bed yawning. ‘Today’s the day the world discovers the great Rory Grehan!’
Eoin looked at Alan and frowned. Rory was losing the run of himself. He was lucky to have made the team, but he now thought he was God’s gift to rugby. The Aviva Stadium was no place to discover your limitations.
The team ate breakfast together, and went for a fifteen-minute jog afterwards. It was a sunny morning, but cold, and as they arrived back at the school Eoin noticed an old man sitting in a wheelchair submerged in a sea of blankets.
‘Grandad,’ he cried, rushing over to where his family had parked their car. The rest of the team stopped, and all stared at one of Castlerock’s rugby legends.
‘It is a great pleasure to meet you, sir,’ said Mr Carey, shaking Dixie’s hand, ‘and particularly on a day of such honour for the Madden family. To see your grandson play at Lansdowne Road must be a great thrill for you.’
‘Oh it is indeed,’ said Dixie, ‘I’m very proud of young Eoin, you have done a fine job on his rugby.’
Mr Carey smiled, not a regular habit of his at all. ‘Well, Mr Madden, there’s something about the lad that shows me that there’s got to be something in his genes too.’
Mr Finn walked down the steps to greet his old friend, and Eoin made his farewells, explaining that he had a team meeting and a walk on Sandymount Strand before they arrived at the stadium.
Dixie called him aside before he left, ‘Remember, Eoin,’ he whispered. ‘This is only a sport. A fantastic one, but one you can leave behind when you walk off the field. You will do your very best, I know, because that’s the sort of lad you are. And whatever happens, you’ve made your mum, dad and me very proud.’
Eoin turned away quickly, not wanting to show that he was blinking back tears.
The morning flew past, with Mr Carey talking them through their previous games and the moves that had brought them tries. He pointed out the silly mistakes that had cost them points, too, but told the team they had learned from those errors and would not be making them today. He kept hammering home to Richie Duffy that he had a talented backline behind him and he needed to get the ball to them as much as possible.
Mr McCaffrey took the team on a leisurely stroll across the beach, telling them that this was a Castlerock tradition that went back more than a century.
‘Mr Finn was telling us about the days he walked here with Dixie Madden, and how they strolled up to Lansdowne Road from here. You boys have a nice bus to take you, of course, but don’t forget that Dixie and Mr Finn will be there today cheering you on. Tradition is an important thing in rugby, and in Castlerock. Today you all become part of that tradition.’
Eoin had a lump in his throat as the bus drove across Herbert Bridge and on to Lansdowne Road. The bus pulled into the tunnel where he had last met Brian, and he briefly wondered where his friend had gone.
Castlerock settled into their dressing-room, but it was clear almost all the boys were overawed by the occasion.
‘Just think,’ said Charlie, ‘Jonny Sexton took his socks off just where I’m sitting.’
‘Bet his don’t stink as much as yours,’ roared Lorcan across the room.
‘Settle down, lads,’ said Mr Carey, who was just as impressed with the facilities. ‘I should have brought the DVD of the semi-final to show you,’ he said, pointing at the state-of-the-art TV system built into the wall.
‘Can we watch Spongebob Squarepants instead?’ asked Rory, with a grin.
The whole squad changed into their green and white Castlerock kit, did their warm-ups in the adjacent room, and all stood when the headmaster came in with Mr Finn, who he asked to say a few words.
‘Well, boys, today is the biggest day of your rugby lives so far,’ he started. ‘It is a great honour for you to represent the school in this final, and in this marvellous stadium. I know you won’t let yourselves or the school down, but do make sure you enjoy yourselves. Some of you may never get the chance to play here again, so make the most of this day. All your family, friends and schoolmates are behind you. And so are scores of Castlerock players of the past. From the very heart of one of them, I wish you the very best of luck. And remember, Victoria Concordia Crescit – Victory comes from harmony.’
CHAPTER 27
The Castlerock boys waited in the tunnel alongside their opponents from St Osgur’s. As the teams looked around, sizing up their surroundings and each other, a harsh electronic voice came crackling in through the open end of the archway. The stadium announcer was making his first message of the day welcoming the fans, before he said, ‘And here they come, the teams that are about to do battle for the Fr Geoghegan Cup.’
‘Off you go,’ grinned the attendant, ‘There’s a full house outside waiting for you.’
Rory looked at Eoin and gulped, but when they burst out into the sunshine they were relieved to see that the official was only joking. There was a thin smattering of fans in the vast arena.
‘Maybe two thousand,’ said Rory, gazing all around. ‘But that’s still an awful lot for an Under 13 schools match.’
‘It’ll be an awful lot more by the end,’ said the outside centre Phelim Hardiman, jogging from one end of the field to the other and soaking up the atmosphere.
Eoin looked across to where the Castlerock supporters had gathered, and gave a wave. He then remembered his grandad wouldn’t be with the schoolboys, and scanned the hospitality boxes before he found his family. They saluted him, and he lifted his hand in acknowledgement.
The pre-match warm-ups complete, the teams settled into formation and awaited the referee’s whistle.
St Osgur’s College was a big school in the city centre and had a long rivalry with Castlerock. Its players were fast, well-drilled by a former Ireland winger who had a spell coaching one of Dublin’s best clubs. In the early minutes they got the ball out to their backs as often as they could, but Castlerock’s defence held firm.
A garryowen was driven high in the air by the St Osgur’s full-back, and Eoin found himself beneath the ball. Ever since that first training session when he became a laughing stock, Eoin had been solid under the high ball. It was something he prided himself on. But now, in the biggest game of his short life, Eoin fluffed it.
The ball bounced off his chest and, although he scrambled forward to try to catch it, it tumbled to the ground.
The referee whistled, calling out ‘knock on’.
From the scrum, St Osgur’s worked the ball out at speed to their winger, who skipped past Lorcan and went over in the corner.
The team gathered under the posts for the conversion.
‘For God’s sake, let’s cut out the stupid mistakes,’ snarled Duffy. Eoin went red, knowing it was he who had made the error. He looked over at the giant scoreboard, where a number ‘7’ twice as tall as Mr Carey had just appeared beside ‘St Osgur’s’.
‘Lay off, Duffy,’ said Charlie. ‘Eoin’s a class player, that’s the first ball he’s dropped all season.’
Three or four of the players muttered agreement.
Duffy was taken aback at this show of defiance from a team he had always had under his thumb.
‘OK, let’s get on with it,’ he said, ‘and remember the moves.’
Coming up to half-time, St Osgur’s kicked a penalty to stretch their lead to 10-0, before the most important moment of the game arrived.
The Castlerock forwards had won the ball in the ruck, and were keeping it tight as the backs found their best attacking formation. Rory bent to pick up the ball, and dummied to fling it out to Duffy. The big St Osgur’s second row broke off the ruck and charged straight at the Castlerock out-half.
The sounds of their collision echoed around the vast arena, which was still almost empty.
Thump!
Crrrrack!
‘Aaaaaaaahhhhh!’
Both teams stopped dead, staring at the stricken player lying on the ground clutching his arm.
‘Aaaaaaaahhhhh!’ he howled again, as the coach and doctor rushed on.
Duffy had turned white, and looked terrified.
‘I think it’s, broken, sir,’ he said. ‘I heard it crack.’
The St John’s Ambulance boys followed out on to the pitch and helped the doctor to lift Duffy carefully on to the stretcher.
With just a few seconds left to the interval, the referee allowed just enough time for play to resume before blowing for half-time.
Both sides were subdued as they wandered up the tunnel, but Castlerock’s fourteen men were completely silent.
‘All right boys, Richie is in good hands now,’ said Mr Carey. ‘He’ll be fine and so will we. We’ve been a bit unlucky so far, but once you guys hit your stride the scores will come.’
‘O’Reilly, you warm-up,’ he said, ‘I’ll slot you in at inside centre. Madden, you move into out-half. You’ll be taking the place kicks, too.’
All eyes turned to Eoin. Everyone knew about his year-long feud with Duffy, and most people now sympathised with Eoin. But to be taking the prized No.10 position in these circumstances just didn’t seem right.
Eoin nodded, afraid to say anything.
He stood up, and checked the clock, there were six minutes left before the second half.
‘I need to use the bathroom, sir,’ he said.
He headed straight for the cubicle situated furthest from the changing area and sat down and put his head in his hands.
‘What’s up, soldier?’ came a voice from outside the door.
‘Brian!’ said Eoin, ‘Where have you been? I called over last week.’
‘Long story, pal, but I’m not going to be around here much longer. It seems the fact that you were the first person to be able to see me woke up, eh, some people up to my presence here. They can’t have that happening so I’m off to a better place – if you can imagine such a thing,’ he grinned.
‘So, I won’t see you again?’ said Eoin.
‘No, I’m afraid not,’ replied Brian.
Eoin left the cubicle and looked at the ghostly figure, who already seemed as if he was starting to fade.
‘I’ve enjoyed our chats, and you really helped me reconnect with rugby – and Tipperary – again. But it’s not right that I’m hanging around here for eighty years so I’ll be off soon. They told me I could stay to watch your game, and I’ll be with you all the way,’ said Brian.
Eoin bit his lip. ‘Did you see that injury to Duffy? The coach has asked me to fill in at out-half. I’m terrified.’
‘Don’t be,’ said Brian. ‘You’re a fantastic player with great natural skills. The ball will be coming to you a bit quicker, but trust your instincts and you’ll be fine. That team you’re playing has their defence all bunched in the middle of the field: get the ball out to your wingers and you’ll get the tries.’
‘Thanks,’ said Eoin, greatly cheered. ‘There’s a man in the hospitality box near the twenty-two that you should take a look at. It’s the great Dixie Madden.’
‘That’s a name from the past,’ smiled Brian, ‘Just like mine. But yours is one for the future – so go out there and win that cup for your school.’
CHAPTER 28
Eoin rushed back to the changing room, where he apologised to Mr Carey for the delay. ‘Nerves, sir,’ he muttered.
‘OK, lads, settle down. We’ll keep it simple and concentrate on cutting out the errors. You are Castlerock boys; you have everything you need to win this game. So go out and do it.’
Eoin walked out to the middle of the ground alone. The referee tossed him the ball, which he placed on the white line and kicked off towards the Havelock Square End.
A perfect drop kick was followed up by the forwards and the ball was taken cleanly. The pack were growing in confidence and having worked the ball up to the 22-metre line, Charlie picked up the ball and charged straight at the posts. Taken aback by his sheer neck, St Osgur’s hesitated and he was only three yards from the line when they finally brought him to ground.
‘Brilliant, Chaz, just brilliant,’ chuckled Eoin as the Castlerock pack piled in to support their comrade.
Charlie had turned his body as he fell so the ball was on the attacking side, and Brendan picked it up and fed it back through his legs. Rory stood over the ball, deciding which way to pass, when Eoin nodded and pointed where he wanted the ball.
Rory flung the ball far in front of his out-half, but Eoin moved like lightning to run onto it, sidestep the St Osgur’s cover and dive over the line for a try.
He took the congratulations of his teammates before he turned to compose himself for the conversion. He struck the ball well, but a late gust of wind pushed it out to the right. Eoin held his breath as the ball hit the inside of the post and dropped down. The touch judges looked at each other and raised their flags – Castlerock were back within touching distance at 10-7.
But any thoughts that St Osgur’s would cave in were short-lived. They held steady as Castlerock tried to break through their solid defence, and began to come back into the game.
An Osgur’s attack down the right was held up on the 22, but Brendan came into the ruck from the side and the referee blew for a penalty.
‘We’ll kick it,’ said the St Osgur’s out-half, who duly slotted the ball over to extend their lead to six points.
Castlerock came roaring back, but chance after chance was wasted and with two minutes left they were still without reward. They were awarded a scrum on half-way, but there was a delay as a St Osgur’s player received treatment on an injured ankle.
Eoin supped from a bottle of water, and stared up high into the stands where the Leinster supporters were starting to take their seats ahead of the second big game of the day.
Just to the left of the box where his family were seated he spied Brian, his distinctive black, red and gold jersey standing out in a sea of blue. Brian stretched his arms wide, pointing to the wings. Eoin remembered his tip at half-time. It was worth trying.
‘Listen, guys,’ he told the backs, ‘their backs are all bunched up in the middle, let’s get the ball out to Joseph and Shane on the wings.’
Castlerock got a good heel from the scrum, and Charlie again controlled the ball between his feet. Rory plunged down, and threw the ball out quickly to Eoin, who ran ten metres before flinging the ball out far to his right. He had deliberately skipped Mikey O’Reilly at inside centr
e and the surprise move fooled St Osgur’s.
Phelim moved the ball on quickly to Shane Keane, and the winger suddenly discovered he was on his own in a vast area of free space. Shane was the fastest runner in the whole year at school, and he wasn’t going to be caught by anyone, especially with a ten-metre start.
He sprinted towards the posts and, with a cheeky dive, touched the ball down beneath them to bring the score to 13-12.
The crowd – which by this stage had swelled to more than twenty-five thousand – erupted. ‘Cas-tle-rock, Cas-tle-rock,’ they shouted, even the neutrals.
‘What’s left, ref?’ asked Eoin.
‘Nothing, son,’ he smiled. ‘This is the last kick of the game. Good luck.’
Eoin collected the ball from Shane, who was grinning from ear to ear. ‘Best of luck, Eoin, you’d kick this in your sleep.’
‘Thanks,’ muttered Eoin under his breath, ‘no pressure then.’
Shane was right, of course, but he didn’t realise how nervous Eoin had suddenly become. The out-half was totally aware of what was at stake – and that enormous roar that greeted the try was the first time he had realised how many people were now watching.
He knelt on one knee to prop the ball up on the kicking tee. He looked towards the posts, and was startled to see Brian standing underneath them, just beside the touch judges.
‘Come on now, Eoin,’ he called out, ‘take your time, keep your eyes wide open and keep everything steady.’
Eoin smiled, and stared up at the white posts piercing the blue sky high above the stadium. He stepped back to his mark, and ran forwards, keeping his eye on where he was going to kick the ball.
Whump!
Eoin connected perfectly with the ball, and watched as it took off into the air, he knew it was straight and he knew it was true. The touch judges lifted their little flags and the referee blew his whistle, followed immediately by yet another blast.
That was the last thing Eoin heard before he was swamped by a sea of green and white shirts.
Rugby Spirit Page 10