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Authors: Joe O'Brien

BOOK: Feile Fever
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B
y Friday night – the eve of the County Féile on the Little Croker – there was a real buzz around the neighborhood. All the neighbours had really pulled together for their local club.

Everyone hung out their blue bunting; it was the same bunting that everyone in Littlestown always hung out for the Dubs’ big games, but as the colours matched the Littlestown Crokes as well, it was perfect for this occasion.

Mick and Jimmy had hardly been off their mobile phones, ringing around organising everything. They felt like they’d spoken to every man, woman and child in the area!

There were cups and plates and cutlery being polished for the big event the next day. Mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters were making sandwiches and baking cakes and buns, neighbours were lending knives and forks and helping to set up tables for the refreshments.

Everyone attached to the team was pulling together.

Todd hadn’t taken up Danny’s invitation to come down to his road and join in the
preparations
, but he at least rang him on his mobile and confirmed that he would be at the Little Croker, at 9.30 am – forty-five minutes before the first game, which kicked off at 10.15.

On the Saturday morning, it was a
spectacular
scene on the Little Croker. Hundreds of people had turned out to support their local club, in fact, it looked like everyone in
Littlestown
had turned up to cheer them on. The sun was shining, the bunting was fluttering in the breeze, and Larry’s friend from the golf club
had turned up trumps! There were two
spacious
marquees erected beside the old dressing rooms, a large one for the refreshments and a smaller one to be used as an extra dressing room. Crokes only had two dressing rooms for teams and a third smaller one for the referees. Larry’s friend had asked his employees to erect a division down the middle of the small
marquee
, to make two more dressing rooms.

Everything was accounted for and all was going smoothly – except that Larry was starting to get on Dolores Darcy’s nerves in the
refreshments
marquee!

Mick had his team in their old home dressing room and he was going through the match schedule list with Jimmy, which had just been handed to him.

It read:

 

10.15

Littlestown Crokes V Darnville

Terrystown V Cherrydale

(half-hour break)

11.15

Littlestown Crokes V Cherrydale

Darnville V Terrystown

(half-hour break)

12.15

Littlestown Crokes V Terrystown

Darnville V Cherrydale

 

Mick nodded to Jimmy.

‘Okay, boys! Listen up,’ said Jimmy as the players were tying up their boots. ‘I have the schedule here lads. We’re up against Darnville in the first match.’

Mick could hear little whispers of concern coming from his players. Darnville had already beaten them in the league.

‘Settle down, lads,’ said Jimmy.

‘We’re playing them on the Little Croker this time,’ added Mick. ‘The second game, we’ll be on the far pitch against Cherrydale.’

At this, Mick’s players started grinning at
each other. They had beaten Cherrydale in the league in their first game.

‘Who are we playing in the last game, Mick?’ asked Splinter.

‘Terrystown – back on the Little Croker for that one.’

There was no reaction at all from Mick’s team. They hadn’t played Terrystown in the league yet, but they knew that they were a decent side as they were in third place in the league.

The referee popped his head in the door and nodded to Mick.

‘On our way, ref,’ smiled Mick. Then he turned to his team. ‘Okay, boys! I want yiz all to forget about our poor start to the league this year. Yes, I know that we have to beat the very same teams that we’ve struggled against, but we’re starting this Féile with a clean sheet. We can do this, lads. One step at a time. If we can get through this stage – these three games – then we can concentrate on the semi-final over
at Chapel Hall’s grounds later today, and who knows where we might go from there.’

‘To the final in Parnell Park tomorrow!’ cheered Jimmy, firing the players up.

All the lads cheered.

‘When you go out onto that pitch, lads. Where are yiz playing?’ roared Mick.

‘THE LITTLE CROKER!’

‘And how do we play every game?’

‘LIKE THE ALL-IRELAND FINAL!’

D
arnville joined the Crokes at the exit of dressing rooms area, and both teams jogged onto the Little Croker together.

Terrystown and Cherrydale had already left their marquee and were warming up on the far pitch.

Mick pulled Danny aside while the other players warmed up with Jimmy.

‘How's Todd's form?' asked Mick.

‘Savage, Da,' answered Danny.

‘Are you sure? He seemed a bit quiet in the dressing room.'

‘He's fine. I think he's just a bit nervous, you know, because this is his first time
playing in a real GAA match.'

‘I suppose you're right, Danny. We're certainly throwing him in at the deep end.'

‘Don't worry. I'll get him into the game early. I'd say he'll be okay once he gets a few passes to him. He's an animal player, Da.'

Danny was true to his word. From the very second the ball was thrown in, he made sure that Todd was brought into the game. Mick had left Doyler in Barry's regular position, centre full forward, and put Todd into centre half forward. Todd rewarded Mick and his teammates for their belief in him, scoring two super points from long range.

Todd was much stronger than his marker, and his experience of playing in the slightly more physical sport of footy was standing to him, but at the same time Mick had worked tirelessly with Todd to pare down his rough edges, and it was showing.

The first half of the first game flew in. It was only fifteen minutes – much shorter than
a regular match.

Even though Todd was playing brilliantly and Danny and Jonathon were putting in their usual great performances in midfield, Darnville led at half time, with a score of 0-2 to 0-3.

By the time the teams had come off the pitch and the Crokes were crowding around Mick and Jimmy, Jimmy had just heard the half time score of the other game.

‘Terrystown are slaughtering Cherrydale!' he said.

‘What score?' asked Todd.

‘A goal and three points to one point,' laughed Jimmy, ‘they must be playing a stormer up there.'

This won't help!
thought Mick,
they're getting distracted.

‘All right boys! Settle down. Don't mind the other game yet. That score is irrelevant to us at this stage. Let's just concentrate on winning this game first,' Mick looked to Jimmy.

‘Yeah! You're right Mick,' agreed Jimmy. ‘Come on lads. Listen in now.'

Mick didn't have much time to talk. The Féile games were a quick turn around.

‘I'm telling yiz, we can beat these fellas. Danny, I want you to push up a little more son – Jonathon will cover for you.'

Danny looked mystified.

‘We need to go for it, son. We have to show Darnville that we're not afraid of them. We need to attack them from the start with
everything
we've got and get scores. It's only fifteen minutes.'

Danny nodded, even though he was worried about opening up a gap in midfield for
Darnville
.
I hope Jonathon can manage!
he thought, but he had to trust his dad. After all, Mick knew what he was talking about. He was a brilliant coach.

Danny let Jonathon jump for the second half throw in. He thought that if Jonathon could win the ball and feed it down to him, then maybe he
could get started straight away on that quick attack that Mick wanted to see.

‘Ready number eight?' the referee looked to Jonathon. ‘Number nine?' he then looked to the Darnville midfielder, who just nodded, then quickly turned his eyes back to Jonathon.

‘Strong jump, Jonathon!' encouraged Danny.

The ball was thrown in.

Jonathon jumped so high for that ball that he felt like he was stretching every tendon in his legs to the point of snapping. The second
Jonathon
passed the ball to Danny, Danny was away as fast as lightning. His super-fast pace left not only his opposite midfield marker for dust, but Jonathon's too.

Darnville's centre half back had left Todd free to try and stop Danny in his tracks, but Danny was too sharp and too clever for him.

Danny pretended to fist the ball over
Darnville's
number six, then shimmyed around him with ease. Then he heard a distinctive Aussie voice.

‘Over here, Danny!' called Todd as he advanced toward the goal, his back half-turned to Danny and his left hand out beckoning a pass.

Doyler – Crokes' centre full forward – pulled his marker to one side, opening up a gap for Todd to run into.

Danny kicked the ball to Todd.

‘Go for goal, Todd!' yelled Danny.

As a footy player, Todd's instinct would always be to go for goal. Maximum points in a score were always the best option if there was a chance to be taken, and that's what he had in mind.

Good on ya mate!
thought Todd as he caught Danny's pass.

Todd thundered toward the Darnville goal. He looked unstoppable, and only Darnville's keeper was in his way.

As Darnville's goalkeeper threw his body toward Todd to block his incoming shot, Todd tricked him by pretending to shoot. The
Crokes' new number eleven then cheekily fisted the ball high over the keeper's head.

Everyone on the Crokes' line watched anxiously as the ball fell down towards the open goal, but it bounced off the cross bar away from the goal.

‘No!' screamed Jimmy.

‘Go, Jason!' roared Mick.

Jason Delaney – Crokes' right full forward was doing exactly what Mick always said he should do – he was following up the attack regardless.

Jason sprinted towards the ball, which was just coming to a stop.

His marker was tight on his heels and to make things worse, Splinter's marker had left him free and he was now nearer to the ball.

Just as Splinter's marker – Darnville's right full corner back – was about to kick the ball
up-pitch
and to safety, Jason stretched his left leg out to try and block the clearance.

The ball ricocheted off his boot and shot out
to the far side of the goal area into Splinter's path. Splinter clipped the ball up into his hands, took one look at the empty goal and then – BANG! Splinter sent the ball crashing into the back of the Darnville goal!

There was tremendous cheering from the Crokes' line.

This was the type of courage and
determination
that Mick wanted to see from his team. They were playing the second half in style!

As the Crokes' players congratulated Splinter, Mick nodded to Jimmy.

‘We're on the move, Jimmy,' he said.

Splinter's goal certainly got Crokes on the move; Darnville were caught cold, and didn't really recover.

Todd added another great point to the two he'd gained in the first half and, to add to Darnville's misery, both Doyler and Jason Delaney scored a point each.

With Danny back into midfield alongside Jonathon as a result of Splinter's goal, Darnville
struggled to repeat the good win they achieved over Crokes in the league.

They only scored two more points.

Crokes won their opening game in the Féile by a score of 1-5 to 0-5.

Up on the other pitch, Terrystown had easily beaten Cherrydale by a score of 2-7 to 0-3.

Mick's players had played a tough first game, and they appreciated their half hour rest before they headed over to the far pitch for the second match.

Mick started the second match against weaker side Cherrydale with the same team.

By half time Crokes were leading with a
commanding
score of 2-3 to 0-1, so Mick decided to make a few changes so as to give his subs a chance to play.

This slightly weakened Mick's side, but once more, Danny took total control of the game, distributing magnificent passes to his forward line and creating scores from almost every attack.

The crowd went wild! All along the Crokes line they were jumping up and down and screaming!

Crokes won the game on the far pitch easily, with a score of 3-5 to 0-2.

They had beaten Cherrydale by an even bigger margin than Terrystown had done, and that gave Mick and his players a real confidence boost.

Terrystown had one of their best players injured in their game against Darnville and this affected them badly. They just barely managed to scrape a win with a narrow marginal score of 1-4 to 1-2.

As everyone relaxed during the half hour break before the final games it was obvious to all that the two teams going forward to the semi-finals later in the day in Chapel Hall's grounds, were Littlestown Crokes and Terrystown.

But there was a lot still to play for …

Mick was trying to get this message through
to his team in the dressing room a few minutes before the third match throw in.

‘Now, if there's anyone who thinks they're too knackered or injured to start the game, please let us know now,' said Mick.

Nobody spoke out. Mick knew well even if someone was unfit to play, they probably wouldn't say anything because everyone wanted to be involved in every game.

‘Are you sure, Big Johnner? That was a bad knock you took in the last game.'

‘I'm sound, coach. I ran it off.'

‘That's a nasty bruise,' noticed Barry Sweeney, who had popped in, broken
collarbone
and all, to lend some support.

‘Shut up, you,' whispered Big Johnner.

‘I know we're through to the semis, lads,' said Mick. There was a big roar from his players.

‘Oh! Calm down, boys,' said Jimmy. ‘Let Mick finish.'

Mick nodded a thank you to Jimmy.

‘It's all still to play for boys,' continued Mick.
‘The difference between finishing top and
finishing
second in the group is colossal. Top place plays the second place from the group over in Chapel Hall and their top team plays second in our group.'

‘We don't care who we play, Mick!' yelled Paddy Timmons. ‘We'll take anyone on!'

Everyone cheered again.

Mick had to smile and so did Jimmy. Mick didn't encourage over confidence, but he felt at this point there was no need to calm his players down too much. He relished the fact that his team were all fired up and so he joined in with their cheers, saying,

‘That's the spirit, Paddy!'

This is the fire I need from them if they're to beat Terrystown!
he thought.

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