Rugby Spirit (5 page)

A
fter his stinker for the As, Eoin was allowed drop back to the Bs for the next couple of games. He started to enjoy playing again, and found the Bs much more fun than the As – who were too serious – and the Cs – who were just too hopeless. After Eoin’s
remarkable
contribution to the win over St Ignatius’s, the Cs lost their next seven games, usually by a wide margin.

Alan eventually realised the problem was not that Eoin wasn’t playing, and that even if it was, he could hardly be blamed for it. The pair made up over a packet of peanuts in the dorm one night.

‘I’m sorry I’ve been such a prat,’ said Alan. ‘I was just a bit jealous that you were getting on the Bs so quickly. I’ve been playing for years and I’ve never got a sniff.’

Eoin smiled. Alan really loved his rugby, but just hadn’t got the co-ordination to ever become any good at it. He wished he could switch their abilities around, but knew
that wasn’t going to happen.

‘I’ll try to hammer the Bs winger in the warm-up – maybe Carey will sub you up then?’ he joked.

‘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.’

E
oin 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.

D
ixie’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.