Rugby Spirit (10 page)

T
he day before the game, another notice was pinned to the board outside the dining hall during
breakfast
. There, underneath the details for spectators who wanted to travel to the game, was an amended
team-sheet
. And there, beside ‘No.12’ was the name ‘E. Madden’.

‘Brilliant!’ called out Alan. ‘You’re in the starting
fifteen
!’

Eoin smiled, and accepted the many pats that were rained on his back. He jumped back, however, when he saw a fist emerge between the cluster of friends, and crash into his ribs.

‘Oi, that hurt,’ he cried, turning towards the fist, which was on the end of the arm owned by Richie Duffy. The out-half bully was smirking.

‘Hope the ribs are up to it, Madden,’ he snapped. ‘It’s a big game for a little boy from Tipperagua.’

‘The ribs are fine, Duffy, it was the other side that was cracked,’ he chuckled.

The bully turned away, furious, and the rest of the boys joined in with Eoin’s laughter.

Shortly before one o’clock the headmaster came over the PA to announce that there wouldn’t be any classes in the afternoon and he hoped to see everyone at Lansdowne Road the next day. Mr McCaffrey also asked the cup final squad to come to his office after the final class.

Eoin joined the crowd as the boys marched up to the headmaster’s study. It was a large room, with a long table used for meetings, upon which lay a mountain of tasty treats.

‘All right, boys,’ Mr McCaffrey announced, ‘I know this isn’t the healthiest approach to an important
sporting
event, but Mr Carey says you have done all the hard work and pizza and burgers won’t do you much harm –
in moderation
. So do tuck in, but take it easy.’

The boys eyed up the foodstuffs they had been
forbidden
for months, and drooled. Eoin’s pre-match nerves were starting to rumble, so he wasn’t feeling very hungry, but hepicked up a slice of pizza to be polite.

‘Thank you, sir,’ he said as Mr McCaffrey came over to him.

‘De-de-lisssshus,’ gurgled Charlie Johnston through a mouthful of burger and bun.

‘I hear you’ve been in the wars, Mr Madden,’ the headmaster said, ‘I presume you are fighting fit for the morrow?’

‘Yes, sir, I had a rib injury, but it healed up quickly and I’ll be fine.’

‘That’s quite a relief, I hear, to Mr Carey. He’s terribly impressed with the progress you have made in such a short period of time. Is it true you never played rugby before you came to Castlerock? Less than six months and you’re Mr Carey’s main match-winner…’

‘Well …’ Eoin mumbled, uncomfortable at the praise, which seemed to annoy Charlie, ‘… we have loads of great players and I’ve picked it up quickly from Mr Carey and Mr Finn.’

‘Mr Finn?’ said the headmaster, ‘I thought he gave up coaching long ago?’

‘No, well, yes, but …’ said Eoin, flustered, ‘It’s his book, I found it very helpful.’

‘Oh, that old thing. Didn’t know it was still in print. He forced us all to read it when it came out.’

To Eoin’s great relief, the headmaster moved on to the next group of boys. Charlie looked at him with a serious expression.

‘“The main match-winner”? Where did he get that from?’

‘Well it wasn’t from me!’ Eoin said.

‘Huh, you backs, always get the most attention when the real work is done in the forwards. I hope you guys appreciate all we do when you’re collecting your medals tomorrow.’

After lunch Mr Carey got the boys to change into tracksuits and took them for a run around the school grounds.

‘Let’s get that pizza out of your systems before
tomorrow
. Brian O’Driscoll wouldn’t eat such a thing before a big game.’

It was a subdued training session, with no real spark shown by any of the players. Mr Carey told them not to worry, that all the work had been done and they would be the best team on the field tomorrow. All they had to do was remember their plans and the scores would come.

Eoin wandered back to the school at the back of the group, and Mr Carey caught up with him.

‘Everything all right, Madden?’ he asked, looking straight into Eoin’s eyes.

‘I’m fine, sir, just a bit nervous. How many people will be there?’

‘Get that out of your head, son, once the whistle blows you won’t see or hear anyone except the black and blue shirts of St Osgur’s. To be honest, I doubt if any of the Leinster supporters will come along until the last ten minutes, so you’ll only have to worry about the
mammies
, daddies and little sisters shrieking in the crowd.’

‘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.’ 

E
oin 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.’

T
he 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’.

‘Catch the ball, Madden,’ hissed Duffy, glaring at Eoin.

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.’