‘Sure cuts and bruises are like medals to rugby players,’ said his grandfather, who had just come into the kitchen. ‘Though I’m not sure how you could have got that when all you were practising today was your goal-kicking,’ he added, with a grin.
‘Hi, Grandad,’ said Eoin, blushing. ‘We’re off to Dublin tomorrow. Were you really watching us practise?’
‘I was. Barney made me a nice cup of tea and we hid in his shed watching you through the cracks between the planks. You took forty-four kicks at goal and put thirty-eight of them over. And you hit the crossbar once, which counts as a miss.’
‘Ah, but the GAA posts are narrower,’ Eoin protested.
‘True, but the crossbar is lower too,’ Dixie replied, smiling at his grandson. ‘That’s a very good kicking record, and I liked the way you varied your kicking position and distance. You’ve worked very hard to get that good.’
Alan arrived at the kitchen door. ‘Hi, Dixie, nice to see you,’ he said. ‘We were going to ask you about the Russian man and his house.’
Eoin bowed his head, still embarrassed about taking away the old photo.
‘Gosh, I’m not sure I remember much. It was such a long time ago and no one has been near the house for years.’
‘Did he ever talk to you about rugby?’ Eoin asked.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Dixie, ‘although I didn’t like to talk about it myself in those days either. I just don’t believe the subject ever came up…’ Dixie paused, scratching his head. ‘Actually, I think he mentioned it once – way, way back when I got to know him first. He told me his family name, which was about eight unpronounceable names with lots of hyphens and dozens of syllables. He asked me did I recognise one of the names, as it was well known in rugby circles, but I couldn’t always understand his thick accent and the name meant nothing to me. Is this something to do with that blue rugby ball trophy I gave you?’
Eoin looked away. ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ he said. ‘I was wondering did he have any interest in the game.’
Dixie looked at Eoin, puzzled. ‘Well, no, like I said, we never once discussed it.’
The old man stood up and walked to the door. ‘I was just dropping in to say goodbye and good luck. I’m off to visit the garden centre near Limerick tomorrow so I won’t be around. I’ll talk to you when you get back.’
CHAPTER 8
His holiday over, Alan returned to Dublin the next day courtesy of Mr Madden, who offered to bring him home while he was leaving Eoin to UCD. Having Alan in the car took Eoin’s mind off the weekend ahead and stopped him getting too nervous. They dropped his pal home first, and Eoin promised he’d phone him on Sunday night.
The car was silent as Mr Madden steered it into the university grounds to the place where the players had been asked to meet.
‘Here we are,’ said his dad as they reached the Leinster Rugby building.
HMr Madden ruffled Eoin’s hair and checked he had enough credit in his phone to ring his mum that night. ‘Go show them that classic Castlerock style – but don’t forget the Munster passion,’ he grinned.
From the boot Eoin lugged his kitbag, which was adorned with the crest of his school. As he waved good-bye to his dad he spotted another boy arriving, this one carrying a bag which showed he played for St Osgur’s, who had been one of the main rivals of Castlerock in recent years. Eoin nodded at the boy, who recognised him, and said hello.
They walked into the building, where they met a couple of coaches with clipboards and saw a long line of huge blue kitbags with the white and yellow logo of the recent European champions embroidered upon them.
‘Eoin Madden and Killian Nicholson, your names are on your bags in alphabetical order so you two are along there,’ the first coach said, pointing.
‘How did you know who I am?’ asked Killian.
‘We know who everyone is here,’ the coach replied. ‘And we know everything about you too. I know you got an A in History in your summer exams, Mr Madden, and that you failed French, Mr Nicholson. And I also know you haven’t got your school report yet so I’ve ruined your day. Sorry. Collect your bag there and move out into the car park. There is a bus waiting and we’ll be leaving as soon as the last of you lot arrive.’
The boys walked over to the line of kitbags and picked up those with their own names embroidered just under the Leinster crest.
‘Cool,’ said Eoin, admiring the bag.
‘What on earth is in it?’ asked Killian, as he tried to lift it up.
The boys looked inside and were delighted to see a huge range of shirts, t-shirts, polos, shorts, socks, drink bottles and other items. Eoin fished around and pulled out two pairs of boots, which were just his size.
The coach called out their names again and jerked his thumb in the direction of the door, so they hauled the bags onto their shoulders and left quickly.
‘That’s an amazing amount of kit,’ chuckled Killian. ‘They’ve even given me a scrum cap and I play on the wing!’
‘Here, I’m going to stick my own school kitbag inside,’ said Eoin. ‘It looks so tiny compared to this monster.’
Killian did the same, but when they stood up a tall blond-haired boy in a black tracksuit proclaiming he was from Dodder Woods was laughing at them.
‘Embarrassed what school you’re from, eh? You must be the saps from Castlerock and St Osgur’s then,’ he sneered.
Eoin stared at the boy, who looked like he enjoyed using the fact that he was taller than almost everyone else in his year. Dodder Woods had a reputation for looking down on other schools, but he seemed even more obnoxious than that.
They walked past him without a word, tucked their bags into the stowing area of the bus and climbed aboard.
‘Eoin Madden!’ came a roar as he climbed up the steps into the coach.
Eoin was confused, and he searched the sea of faces for a familiar one. All he could think was how he wouldn’t need to be introduced to his team-mates – everyone knew his name now.
‘Here!’ came a second call as he spotted Rory’s red hair and familiar cheeky grin.
He shuffled down the aisle, avoiding the gaze of the other players, most of whom knew his name already from his heroic performance in the Junior Cup Final, which was shown on one of the satellite TV channels.
Rory was seated next to another member of the Castlerock team, Charlie Johnston, and Eoin slipped into the seat behind and gestured at Killian to follow.
Eoin introduced them all and they spent the next few minutes discussing what they had been up to so far that summer.
‘It’s great to have a few guys from the school along,’ said Charlie. ‘I was terrified to tell anyone or contact you in case I was the only one.’
Killian turned to look out the window.
‘Are you the only Osgur’s player?’ asked Eoin.
‘It looks like it,’ said Killian. ‘Our best player broke his leg playing soccer last week.’
‘Want to hang out with the Rock boys?’ asked Rory. ‘We’re not fussy.’
Eoin laughed. ‘Of course we’re fussy, and Killian is more than welcome. I wonder where we’re going to on the bus.’
‘I hope we’re staying in some big, swanky hotel with a pool and room service,’ said Charlie.
‘I bet we’re staying in tents in a field up the mountains,’ moaned Rory.
Neither boy was right, as they discovered not long after the bus pulled out of the university sports ground. It was a short, ten-minute drive to their destination and the academy head coach, Ted, winked at Eoin as they pulled through the gates and up the driveway. There in front of them was a large grey building with a stone inscription over the door which read ‘Victoria Concordia Crescit’ – Latin for ‘victory comes from harmony.’
Home for the weekend would be Castlerock College.
CHAPTER 9
Charlie laughed and Rory groaned as they got off the bus. A second bus was also parked in the driveway and more boys were getting off and collecting their gear
.
‘I didn’t think we’d be back so soon,’ chuckled Eoin as they went to collect the bags and make their way to the main hall where the coaches were waiting.
Ted, was at the top of the hall waiting for the boys to settle down.
‘Alright everybody, welcome to the Leinster Academy, and I am delighted that every single one of you we invited was able to come, except poor Ben from St Osgur’s, who we hope recovers very soon.’
Ted went through a few ground rules for the weekend, and reminded them what a great honour it was to play for Leinster. He explained how and why they had been selected, and that they were now what he called ‘in the system’ with Leinster.
‘You will still continue to play with your school or club, but your rugby will be monitored by Leinster Rugby from now until you leave school in four years’ time. The very best of you at that stage, those who we believe have a future in the professional game, will be offered a chance to continue playing with this great club.
‘There are ninety-nine of you here this evening, the cream of schoolboy rugby in the province. Each summer until you leave school we will invite most of you back for training and assessment. We will teach you drills and exercises for you to take back to your school or club. And once a year we will select a team from the best of you to take part in an international tournament.’
He pointed at a line of men and women in blue tracksuits standing alongside him. ‘On Sunday afternoon these coaches here will sit down and select the thirty-three or so boys we will be bringing to Twickenham at the end of August, where they will play in a prestigious week-long European event.’
The boys ooh-ed and aah-ed at this news, and Charlie whispered aloud, ‘I definitely want to be in that team!’
‘That means one in every three of you will be going to London, so that’s pretty good incentive to work hard and show us what you are capable of tomorrow,’ continued Ted. ‘This evening I want you to relax, go for a short run inside the grounds if you like, but get to bed early.
‘Tomorrow you will be served breakfast at 7.30am and, fully dressed for the academy session, you will be taken by coach back to Belfield at 8.30am sharp. Anyone late for either of those appointments can pack their bag and head home – there’s a bus stop just outside the gates.’ Ted dismissed the boys, who started forming little
groups, almost all confined to the schools they attended during the year. The coach went back to the top of the hall and called them to order once again.
‘I apologise, I forgot to mention that you will be staying in dormitories in the next building. You have each been allocated a room and will not be sharing with anyone from your school or club. It is important this weekend that you meet new people and make friends from other schools. This isn’t about being rivals for Rostipp or St Xavier’s – it’s about becoming teammates for Leinster.’
After a buffet meal the boys wandered out of the hall and Eoin pointed out a few of the landmarks of Castlerock to Killian.
‘Let’s go to find out where we’re sleeping,’ suggested Rory.
‘Fire ahead,’ said Eoin. ‘I just want to go for a walk. I’ve a phone call to make.’
Eoin jogged down to the quiet corner of the school grounds where a small stream flowed and where he often went to get away from it all. He sat on the large rock which had the rather obvious nickname of ‘The Rock’, and clicked on his mother’s telephone number. He explained to her how the day had gone, and how funny it was that the sleeping quarters were in Castlerock. He promised to do all those things that his mum always made him promise when he was away from home, like brush his teeth, eat his vegetables, take regular showers and wear his mouth guard while playing rugby.
‘You’ll be glad to know I have a brand new mouth guard, Mam. It’s blue with a Leinster logo on it – as is almost everything I’ve seen this weekend besides the tomatoes we had for tea.’
They made their farewells and Eoin sat back on The Rock for a moment.
‘I hear you rustling around in there, come on out and say hello,’ he laughed.
A man dressed in rugby gear with a black, red and yellow hooped shirt pushed his way through the bushes.
‘Howya, Brian,’ said Eoin. ‘Bit of an early return to school for me this summer, eh?’
‘I was wondering was it you – what’s happened?’
Eoin explained about his selection and why he was back at Castlerock.
‘And would you believe I had a dream about you too?’ he told Brian.
Brian grinned. ‘Was it about whether you should take up the Leinster offer or hold out for a better one with Munster?’
‘Yeah…’ replied Eoin, puzzled.
‘That was no dream,’ Brian laughed. ‘One afternoon I found myself back on the pitch at Lansdowne Road getting asked this question and next thing I was standing beside your bed in Tipp. I gave my answer, but I could see you were half asleep so I didn’t wake you up, and I left immediately.’
Eoin blushed.
‘Really? I must have been talking in my sleep again. I took your advice anyway, as you can see, and no regrets so far. What’s new with you?’
‘Nothing much,’ said Brian. ‘It’s all been quiet since the drama with Kevin and Eugene. They cleaned out that room, I see.’
The previous term Eoin had helped to solve a mystery involving a hidden room, an abandoned arms cache and a tragic hero, which dated back almost a century at Castlerock.
‘Yeah, I wonder if they have sealed up the trapdoor and the secret passage too?’
CHAPTER 10
Eoin wandered back to the dormitory building and met Killian coming down the steps.
‘We’re in together,’ he grinned, ‘but I never heard of the other guys – do you know Conor O’Sullivan and Marcus McCord?’
‘Oh, no!’ said Eoin. ‘McCord is that big blond lad we met coming in earlier. I remember hearing about him. He’s from Dodder Woods School and is well known as a bit of a loudmouth.’
‘Oh. Well, it’s only for two nights and we’ll keep out of his way,’ said Killian. ‘Do you fancy going for a run?’
Eoin agreed, and after dropping his bag up to the dorm and locking the door the pair set off on a tour of Castlerock.
‘Is it good crack being in boarding school?’ asked Killian as they circled the rugby field.
‘It has its advantages, I suppose,’ replied Eoin, ‘but you do miss your home comforts and the food is sometimes pretty horrible. I’d never had to share a room before, although I was lucky that I got on well with the rest of them most of the time.’
‘Our school is a bit boring really,’ said Killian. ‘The lads and teachers are grand, but unless you play rugby you just go home at half past three. It’s in the middle of the city and nearly everyone has to get a bus or a train home. I’d love the crack of a boarding school.’
Eoin smiled. ‘Well, there’s many a night I wish I could get a quick bus home. But you’re right about the crack. There’s a few great characters here like Charlie that make it easier.’
‘What do you think of this trip to London?’ Killian asked. ‘I don’t think I’ve much chance looking at the rest of the left wingers here. They’ll definitely go for Shay from St Xavier’s, or maybe the lad from Clontarf.’
‘I’d say you’d have as good a chance as anyone. They’re going to be looking at everyone in a new light and if you put your heart into it you’ll surely have as much of a chance as anyone.’
The boys rounded off their run with a warm-down and headed back upstairs to their dorm, which was on the same corridor as the room Eoin had slept in during the previous school year.
‘This was Richie Duffy’s old room,’ Eoin remembered as he neared the door, which was wide open and the source of the loud, pulsing music that had drawn several other boys out of their rooms to see where it was coming from.
Lying on the bed nearest the door was Marcus McCord, with a music player sitting on his chest turned up to maximum volume.
‘Good s
ounds, eh?’ he roared as Eoin and Killian made their way gingerly past his bed. Eoin shrugged and turned his back on the noise.
‘What’s your problem?’ called out McCord as he turned off the music and leapt out of bed.
‘No problem, I just don’t like the music,’ Eoin replied.
‘There’s nothing wrong with the music,’ barked McCord as he pulled himself up to his full height just so he could look down on Eoin.
Eoin shrugged again, not wanting to take the disagreement any further. ‘Fair enough,’ he said, and started to dig into his kitbag for his toothbrush.
‘Just watch yourself, Madden,’ growled McCord. ‘You might be a big star in this kip of a school, but you’re with the big boys now. You’ll be mincemeat this time tomorrow if you don’t keep out of my way.’
Eoin sighed and got ready for bed. He didn’t need any extra stress this weekend and McCord was already a headache.
He chatted to the third boy in the room, Conor O’Sullivan; he was a nice lad, but he kept glancing nervously at McCord.
‘Don’t mind him,’ whispered Eoin. ‘He’s all mouth. I know his type.’
Later, as he lay in bed, McCord started up the music again. Eoin looked over at Killian, who had put a pillow over his ears to try to block out the din. The lights-out call came, but still the relentless beat went on. There was no point asking him to turn it down.
Eoin slept badly, and when he woke in the middle of the night the music was still blaring. He got up and walked over to McCord’s bed and he was even more annoyed to see the big Dodder Woods player was fast asleep, wearing thick yellow earplugs. He pulled the cable from the music player out of the wall and jumped back into bed, desperate for sleep ahead of what would be a huge day for him.
Next morning Eoin had to force himself to get out of bed in time for breakfast. He knew he hadn’t got anywhere near the full nine hours he had got used to having since school ended, but he would get a good breakfast and try to tackle the day with gusto. He prodded Killian in the ribs – his new friend was just as reluctant to get up.
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