Rugby Spirit

by Gerard Siggins

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ said Brian. ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’

  ‘We could lose, and I could be blamed again,’ said Eoin.

  ‘Teams lose all the time, and it’s always someone’s fault. They’ll get over it and so will you. You have a chance here to show what you can do at a higher level than ever before. You have to take it. How have you been playing since I saw you last. Did the tackling improve?’ asked Brian.

  ‘It did, actually,’ said Eoin, ‘I worked out when it’s best to dive and where to hit. I made a couple of cracking tackles in the last game.’

  ‘Great, so just keep doing that. Are you playing full-back?’

  ‘No, inside centre. And the out-half hates my guts.’

  ‘Hmmm, that could be tricky,’ said Brian. ‘Just make sure you’re always there to receive the pass, even if it never comes. Now, you better get back to your seat or your dad will be wondering where you are. Good luck tomorrow and don’t forget to drop back and say hello.’

  Eoin was just about to thank Brian when he heard the door open behind him.

  ‘Who are you?’ asked a steward, ‘And how did you get in here?’

  ‘I got off the lift at the wrong floor,’ explained Eoin.

  ‘Who were you talking to?’ asked the steward.

  ‘Just Brian there,’ said Eoin, turning to point at the Lansdowne player, but only finding thin air.

  ‘There’s no-one there,’ said the steward.

  Eoin was puzzled. Where could Brian have gone so quickly? He hadn’t heard any move from the sliding glass door out into the arena.

  ‘He was here a second ago – he was wearing Lansdowne gear.’

  ‘Well he’s not here now,’ said the steward, looking at Eoin as if he were mad.

  Eoin made his way back to the lift, and up to his seat on the top deck.

  His dad was relieved to see him.

  ‘What kept you, I was starting to worry?’

  ‘Oh, I met a couple of school mates. We just got chatting,’ he said.

  The game had already kicked off and Eoin soon got wrapped up in the excitement. Munster’s powerful forwards dominated early on, but as soon as Leinster got the ball back out of the set plays there was a tingle of excitement around the stadium. The home team had a star-studded back line and they waltzed through the Munster tackles time after time.

  With just three minutes left Leinster led 24-22 and Eoin could hardly bear to watch.

  The Munster forwards were moving slowly up-field, inching the maul towards the Leinster 22. The blue flankers kept charging in, but the men in red held firm. Eventually the maul was felled and the referee awarded Munster a scrum.

  The stadium clock showed there was less than a minute left in the game when the ball came back out of the scrum on the Munster side. Eoin noticed that Ronan O’Gara had stepped back a few yards and was wiping his hands on the back of his shorts.

  ‘They’re going for a dropped goal,’ Eoin said to his dad.

  His dad smiled back. ‘You seem to know your stuff,’ he said.

  Sure enough, Tomás O’Leary spun the ball out to the Munster No.10. Time seemed to stand still as he dropped the ball to the ground. In the instant it hit the turf, O’Gara’s powerful boot swung hard and smacked into the leather ball.

  It flew high into the air, tumbling over on itself like a rabbit scampering away from a hound. The ball reached its peak high above the crowd who, as one, watched as it hovered for a moment before it slowly began its descent.

  It fell right between the upright posts, where the referee had run to check the accuracy of the kick. He raised his hand high and blew his whistle.

  The clock had already ticked on to ‘40’, so the referee lifted his whistle to his lips once more. Game over: 25-24 to Munster.

  Eoin leapt from his seat and hugged his dad.

  ‘That was brilliant,’ he said, ‘What a game!’

  All the way back to Castlerock they talked about the match and the dramatic finish. As Eoin stood at the door of the school waving to his father as he drove away, another car pulled up and Duffy and Flanagan jumped out.

  ‘No red shirts in this school,’ sneered Duffy.

  ‘Even winning ones?’ asked Eoin.

  Duffy stopped and looked at Flanagan. He opened his mouth, but no words came.

  ‘See you in the morning,’ smiled Eoin, before he took the stairs two at a time on the way to bed.

  CHAPTER 16

  It was raining next morning, and a cold wind whipped in off Dublin Bay. Eoin shivered as he pulled on the green and white shirt of Castlerock College.

  ‘Right team, gather around,’ said Mr Carey as the clatter of studs echoed around the changing room.

  ‘Ligouri College aren’t the biggest school in this competition, but they have a decent record. We must not underestimate them. I want to see us getting on top from the off, and I want to see points on the board.

  ‘Duffy, you better have your kicking boots on, and you need to take anything we get within range in the first twenty minutes.’

  ‘Madden, you’ve had a good season so far, so let’s see a bit more of that form at this level. Keep close to Duffy and be ready to get the moves going.’

  As Mr Carey moved on to gee-up the forwards, Duffy stepped back and turned his head towards Eoin.

  ‘The only time you’ll see the ball today is at the kick off. Get used to it, loser,’ he muttered under his breath.

  Eoin jogged out on the field along with the rest of the team. There were a couple of hundred boys watching, including several members of the SCT.

  Duffy kicked off and the ball fell short of the ten metre line, which meant the teams had to return to the middle for a scrum.

  ‘Sloppy, Duffy,’ roared Mr Carey, ‘Sharpen up.’

  Duffy winced, and some of the younger boys laughed at the bully’s discomfort.

  Ligouri turned out to be rather a good side, and actually took the lead with a penalty kick from almost half-way scored by an enormous No.8 with flaming red hair.

  Duffy was kicking every time he got the ball, and missed touch on a couple of occasions. It became clear to Eoin that he was not going to pass to him. Inwardly he was rather glad about that, as no passes also meant there was no opportunity to drop the ball, or make a fool of himself once again.

  ‘Get the line moving,’ roared Mr Carey as the Castlerock out-half once again hoofed the ball up-field.

  The next time the ball came back to Duffy, he tossed a pass way over Eoin’s head to the outside centre, smirking as the ball fell into his hands and he sprinted away for a try.

  ‘Good move, Duffy,’ said Carey as he ran on with a water bottle while the kicker was preparing for the conversion. ‘The missed pass caught them out. Keep playing like that and we’ll win this.’

  Duffy missed with the goal kick, and missed another penalty attempt shortly afterwards.

  With the score 5-3 at half-time, Mr Carey was a little bit concerned.

  ‘Duffy, what’s wrong with your kicking today? If you’re off-form with the boot there’s no point kicking for touch every ball you get. The first time you let the backs run we got a try. I want to see a lot more of that in the second half.’

  ‘Sir, to be honest I don’t have confidence in my centre,’ said Duffy, nodding towards Eoin. ‘He’s never played there before on this team and I don’t think he’s up to it.’

  ‘All right Duffy, that’s enough,’ interrupted Mr Carey. ‘I selected Madden because I think he’s up to it. Now make sure he gets plenty of ball in the second half. Out you go.’

  From the kick-off the Castlerock forwards won the chase for the ball and immediately formed a ruck. The ball came back to Vincent at scrum-half who tossed it out to Duffy.

  The out-half made a break and dashed past two Ligouri tacklers. With Castlerock having three men outside shadowed by just two defenders, a try looked likely. Duffy threw the ball in the direction of Eoin, but about a foot higher than he expected it. />
  Eoin scrabbled at the ball as it bounced off his shoulder and forward onto the ground. The referee whistled for a knock-on, giving Ligouri College the scrum.

  ‘Come on, Madden,’ moaned Mr Carey, ‘hang on to it.’

  ‘Yeah,’ smirked Duffy, ‘hang on to it, you culchie slob.’

  Eoin grimaced, and glared at Duffy. He knew the out-half had done that on purpose, but there was no point complaining.

  The next time the ball came out, Eoin was ready for it and reacted quickly to gather it six inches off the ground, just below his knees. He steadied himself upright and threw an inch perfect pass out to the other centre, who crashed through a tackle to score a try.

  ‘Excellent pass, Madden,’ said Mr Carey as he trotted on once again.

  The game ended 10-3 to Castlerock, but the coach was not overly delighted with the performance.

  ‘We’ve a lot of work to do guys, and we especially need to look at the way the backline moves. Extra practice for the backs tomorrow morning after mass.’

  The team groaned, and changed in silence. Charlie looked over at Eoin and cast his eyes up to heaven with a grin. Lorcan caught the exchange and smiled too, Eoin was surprised, but pleased – maybe this team wasn’t too bad after all.

  As they left the changing room, Richie Duffy turned to face Eoin.

  ‘You were lucky with that pass today, Madden, but no-one on this team wants you here. Don’t make any long-term plans about that No.12 shirt.’

  ‘If I were you,’ replied Eoin, ‘I’d be more worried about who’s wearing the No.10 shirt on that performance.’

  And with that, he turned and jogged out to where Alan and Rory were waiting, with a smile on his face wider than any of Duffy’s failed kicks at goal.

  CHAPTER 17

  Training next morning was cancelled, to Eoin’s relief, as the first snows of winter had started to roll in off Dublin Bay. It reminded Eoin that Christmas was just around the corner and he would soon be going home to Tipperary.

  The next week was spent studying for tests, but Mr Carey told them at practice that the second round of the cup would be held on the Saturday after the end of term, so Eoin would have to delay his return home.

  ‘Good news for you, Madden, we’re playing away in Rostipp – not too far from your place I think?’ Carey said.

  Rostipp, thought Eoin, that’s where a few of the lads from primary school went. If they had taken up rugby, that would make it interesting.

  The Christmas exams went well enough for Eoin, although he still struggled with Maths and was completely outfoxed by Mr Finn’s History paper.

  ‘I always mix up Daniel O’Connell and Charles Stewart Parnell,’ he explained to his father when he called to the school to collect his cases on the last day of term.

  Mr Madden laughed and told his son not to worry.

  ‘Mr Finn is a decent man, he knows how hard you’ve been working.’

  That shut Eoin up for a few seconds as they finished packing the car.

  ‘I hate having to stay over tonight,’ he said, ‘but Mr Carey wants us all to go down on the bus together.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said his dad, ‘It’s just one more night and your mum and I will be there tomorrow.’

  ‘And Grandad?’ asked Eoin.

  ‘Well … I don’t think he’s up to it really. He’s been home a few weeks now, but he hasn’t been out and a trip like that might be too much for him. You’ll see him a lot when we get home – he’s moved into your room!’

  Eoin was a bit put out that he wouldn’t be getting his old room, but if there was anyone in the world he would give it up for, it was his grandad.

  He said goodbye to his dad, and wandered back into the school. Most of his friends had left for home and just Rory – who was on the bench for the As – remained in the Dixie Dorm.

  ‘Well, Eoin,’ he said, ‘that was quite an introduction to Castlerock for you!’

  ‘I know,’ he replied, ‘I think I would have preferred to keep my head down and stay on the Cs, but it’s been fun some of the time.’

  ‘Come on!’ said Rory, ‘There’s hundreds of guys in this school who would love to have half your talent as a player. Forget the likes of Duffy and Flanagan, the rest of the school are delighted that you’ve come here, even if they don’t know it yet.’

  Eoin looked out the window as the last of the boarders drifted away. A knock came to the door.

  ‘Madden, Grehan, come with me,’ said Mr Carey, ‘team meeting.’

  They followed the coach downstairs to the dining hall, where the table was set for about thirty.

  ‘The 13As are a fantastic group of players, in whom we have great hopes for the future,’ said Mr McCaffrey. ‘We’ve decided in the circumstances to throw a little Christmas party for a special group of young men.’

  Eoin and Rory squeezed in at the end of the table just as a dozen of the teachers carried in plates piled high with turkey and ham.

  ‘Do enjoy yourselves,’ said Mr McCaffrey, ‘But remember there’s an important game at 1pm tomorrow in County Tipperary. We won’t have any Christmas pudding or cake for you after this, and I hope you all get a good night’s sleep and head into the holidays with another victory under your belts.’

  An hour later Eoin and Rory hauled themselves upstairs with grave doubts about their ability to run anywhere fast within the next twenty-four hours.

  ‘At least I’m just keeping the bench warm,’ groaned Rory.

  ‘At the rate David Vincent was tucking into seconds I’d say you’ve a good chance of starting,’ came back Eoin.

  Next morning Eoin was proved correct, as David Vincent was a peculiar shade of green when they all met up for breakfast. Richie Duffy waved a sausage in front of his face, which caused the scrum-half to leap from his seat and race out of the hall.

  ‘Looks like you’re the man today, Grehan,’ sneered Duffy. ‘You better be quick getting the ball out to me.’ Rory turned an even darker shade of green than Vincent as Duffy’s words sank in.

  The bus journey down was quiet, with few takers for the sing-song Charlie Johnston tried to start several times.

  Rory and Eoin sat at the back of the bus and, for once, it was Eoin doing all the reassuring. ‘You’ll be fine, Rory,’ he said, ‘You’ve had a great season on the Bs and our pack will mill these guys. Just keep it simple and give Duffy the ball – let him mess it up.’

  ‘Yeah, but if he messes it up he’ll blame me,’ he groaned.

  Eoin didn’t have an answer to that.

  The bus pulled into the school in Rostipp just as Eoin’s mum and dad were parking their car. He queued to get off the bus, then he trotted over to them.

  ‘Hi, Mum,’ he called, backing away as his mother tried to give him a hug.

  ‘Not in front of the guys, eh?’ she chuckled, but with a little disappointment in her voice.

  ‘I’d be dead if they saw that,’ he replied.

  ‘Good luck today, son,’ said his dad, ‘we’ll be supporting you all the way. It’ll be the first time I’ve ever watched a Madden play rugby.’

  Eoin jogged away, realising that his father had never seen Dixie in action and couldn’t tell him about all the great man’s deeds like Mr Finn had.

  The team changed into their green and white hoops and ran out to prepare for battle.

  ‘Madden,’ roared a voice from the other half of the field, ‘You’re only a fairy.’

  Eoin looked across to see a huge, red-faced boy in the colours of Rostipp. ‘Curry’ Ryan was famous in Ormondstown for his enormous appetite and the loudest laugh in the county.

  ‘And you’re only an oversized leprechaun,’ he called back at him.

  Duffy turned and glowered at Eoin.

  ‘Shut up you culchie idiot,’ he snarled. ‘We don’t want to banter with these yokels, we want their blood.’

  Eoin turned his back on Richie Duffy and prepared for kick-off.

  Rory looked even more nervous now he had seen that
the Castlerock pack wouldn’t have it their own way – even Eoin gulped as he saw how big the Tipperary twelve-year-olds were. ‘Curry’ Ryan was enormous, but even he had to tilt his head back to look at the pair of brothers who were playing in the second row.

  Eoin’s former primary school classmates, Roger and George Savage, were the youngest sons of a man who once played in goal for the Tipperary hurlers. Neither he nor his sons were the sharpest pencils in the pencil case, but he famously went two whole seasons without conceding a goal for the county. It looked like nothing much got past the sons either.

  The game started cautiously, with Castlerock taking their time to assess their opponents. Rory was careful to ensure the ball went straight to Duffy’s hands, and the out-half kicked the first three balls he received.

  ‘OK, Duffy, time to bring the backs into it,’ called out Mr Carey.

  It became clear as the game went on that Rostipp were a limited side, and that there was little pace in their backline. The forwards were strong and pushed the Castlerock pack around, but Glen Fox at hooker was very quick with the heel and Rory was getting plenty of possession.

  With ten minutes to the break Castlerock won a scrum and Rory flicked the ball quickly to Duffy, who was so surprised at how fast the ball came back that he instantly passed it on. Eoin realised that he had the ball in his hands for the first time in the game, and wasn’t going to waste a rare opportunity.

  The Rostipp centres looked nervously at each other as Eoin headed for the gap between them. He waited till the last moment when the two defenders dived, and his sidestep left the Rostipp players with only each other for company.

  Eoin was through then, and jogged over the line to touch down under the posts. Duffy converted and at half-time the Dublin school were still 7-0 up.

  ‘I’m not too happy with this,’ griped Mr Carey, ‘We’re letting a far inferior team push us around and we’re not playing to our strengths at all. You’re getting great service from Grehan, Duffy, and you’re not getting the ball out to the wings. This can’t go on.’