by Joe O'Brien
Chapter Five
‘The Best Stadium in the World’
Tuesday couldn’t come quick enough for Danny. It was the morning of the trip to Croke Park.
As the coach pulled away from the school gates, thirty loud and slightly over-excited pupils cheered with their hands above their heads. It was only a thirty-minute drive to Croke Park, but to Danny it felt like eternity. This was a huge experience for him. He had been to Croker many times to watch games with Mick, but now he was actually going on a tour of the stadium, and that meant getting to see areas he would not normally see. He was looking forward to it so much that he could hardly sit still in his seat.
Todd was sitting behind Danny and Splinter. There wasn’t a peep out of him for the whole journey until the coach turned down Russell Street, heading for Clonliffe Road and he saw the enormous, magnificent stadium.
‘WOW!’ he gasped.
Danny jumped up on his seat and turned to Todd.
‘It’s savage! Isn’t it, Todd?’
‘I reckon!’
As the coach turned off Clonliffe Road and into St Joseph’s Avenue, all thirty boys were looking in one direction only – upwards! The colossal size of the stadium was breathtaking.
Danny felt a tingling sensation rush through his entire body.
It must be amazing for the players, thought Danny. I’d feel like a gladiator arriving at the Coliseum if I was going to play here.
Danny’s thoughts were rudely interrupted by Splinter’s left elbow.
‘Wake up, Danny. We’re getting off now.’
As Principal Dunstan and Mr Breen tried to organise the boys, Billy Stapleton caught everyone’s attention by announcing that a train was passing by – they were right beside the railway line.
This was to Danny’s great disappointment.
‘Are you off your head, Billy?’ he laughed.
‘What? It’s the train!’
‘A train!’ repeated Danny. ‘Forget about the train will you, and turn around and look at what’s in front of you.
Not only Billy, but every single boy in Danny’s class turned around and looked straight ahead.
‘That’s the best stadium in the world lads, and it’s ours and all you’re interested in is a train. Get real will yiz. Over there to the right is Hill 16, and–’
Danny probably would have given the whole history of Croke Park if Principal Dunstan hadn’t interrupt him.
‘Very good, Mr Wilde. If all fails you could lead the tour today.’
Danny just grinned and calmly followed the others from the back of the line. He had made his point and everyone had got the message.
There were two men sitting behind the counter in the reception area. One was fairly young and the other older. As the class from Littlestown piled in through the doors, the two men looked at each other and smiled as if to say, here we go!
The tour was arranged for eleven, but it was only a quarter to now, so everyone was given a small booklet of the museum floor plan, and Principal Dunstan told them that they could have a little look around at the ground level while they were waiting.
At once, everyone split up into their small groups of friends. Todd stuck close to Danny and Splinter. Billy Stapleton, however, didn’t bother sticking with a group. Billy was well known for enjoying his own company.
‘Horses make better company than people,’ Billy often said.
‘Look at all those medals!’ said Splinter, pointing over to a glass case on a wall in the reception.
The three pals pressed their noses against the glass, gazing at a big display of county and all-Ireland medals that a player called Jimmy Doyle had won.
‘D’ya know this bloke?’ asked Todd.
Splinter shook his head and turned to Danny expectantly.
‘Nope!’ answered Danny. ‘He was a hurler for Tipperary. ‘Not my game, Todd.’
The rest of the class had scattered far around the museum, but Danny wasn’t in such a frenzy. He wanted to take it all in. He was well impressed with the set up. There were large projector screens showing films of football matches, as well as small television screens slotted into the walls.
He didn’t mind if he didn’t get to see everything today. Sure my da can bring me another time, he thought.
Just before eleven, Principal Dunstan and Mr Breen started rounding up boys from all corners. The tour guide – the older guy from behind the desk – introduced himself. He seemed to be a nice man – not grumpy or sour faced, but friendly and enthusiastic. He led everyone out of the museum and into a cinema area.
‘I’m going to show you all a short film, lads. It’s called A Sunday in September, but before I turn it on, you’re probably wondering what these chairs and microphones are for?’ Then he smiled, ‘This is also where the disciplinary board meets!’
Splinter looked at Danny.
‘What?’
‘You know when you make it onto the Dubs’ team?’ smiled Splinter.
Danny nodded.
Splinter just laughed, then nodded toward the seats with the microphones.
‘Get lost!’ laughed Danny. ‘I’ll never end up in here.’
The film only lasted for about ten minutes. It was clips of two All-Ireland finals in 1997. Kerry versus Mayo in football, and Clare versus Tipperary in hurling.
Although there was great atmosphere and great play in both matches, Danny kept looking over toward the guide as if to say, When are we going to see the Dubs?
Splinter giggled a little, and nudged Danny.
‘Look at Todd,’ he whispered.
Todd was getting into the film in a big way. For the first time since Danny and Splinter had known him, they were now getting to see a different Todd – one who was really enjoying himself and letting himself be enthusiastic.
Todd was leaning forward in his seat and clenching his fists. He didn’t care what teams were playing. He just loved the whole exciting game that was unfolding in front of him, and when the play suddenly slowed down and a loud heartbeat noise pounded from the speakers all around the cinema, Danny thought Todd was going to keel over.
After the film, the guide led them out through a door and into a huge concrete tunnel.
‘This is the service tunnel,’ he said. ‘I need everyone to keep to the far right as we are walking. There are quite a few vans and cars in today, so please be careful.’
Principal Dunstan backed that up with a stern look at each and every pupil.
‘Are we going out to the pitch?’ Danny asked. He couldn’t wait to get out there.
The guide nodded. ‘We’ll get there. We’ve a few things to see first.’
As Danny walked in line along the walls of the tunnel, he wondered why they were being brought this way. It was kind of boring.
What’s so special about this? he thought.
His answer came quickly.
The guide stopped at a corner of the tunnel, and pointed into another tunnel.
Danny could see the pitch!
‘Animal!’ he announced.
‘Every corner tunnel that leads into the pitch has a name,’ said the guide. ‘This one is the Mohammed Ali tunnel.’
‘But he’s a boxer!’ laughed Splinter.
Principal Dunstan gave a terrifying growl at Splinter. Splinter stepped in behind Todd.
The guide told them that Mohammed Ali had fought in Croke Park in 1972, and that was the tunnel that he walked through into the arena.
Danny got the message. The tour had already started in this concrete service tunnel!
The next corner tunnel was named after U2 because they played the first concert in Croke Park.
The tour was starting to get better as the guide led them into the player’s lounge, to show them the famous Waterford Crystal Chandelier. Danny would never have thought he could be interested in a chandelier, but this one was made of thirty-two crystal footballs and seventy-two crystal sliotars – he even thought he wouldn’t mind having something like it in his own house
!
Todd turned to Danny and Splinter.
‘You Irish really take this GAA seriously!’
Danny nodded with pride. Todd was starting to get the GAA bug. Danny just knew it.
As they were led back out of the player’s lounge and into the concrete tunnel again, Danny couldn’t hold back any longer.
‘Are we going out to see the pitch?’ he hounded the guide.
The guide laughed.
‘I bet you’re going to be an all-star,’ he said. ‘You have only one thing on your mind. Sign of a great player.’
Danny was well chuffed.
The guide led them over to a yellow door with DR-1 written on it in large black print.
‘Don’t you want to get into the player’s dressing rooms?’ he asked, looking over toward Danny.
Danny’s head nearly fell off.
‘Savage!’
The door was unlocked and everyone barged into the dressing rooms. It was a spectacular moment. Every county’s jersey was hanging up in the dressing room. Danny’s eyes fixed on one jersey and one alone. The blue jersey with Áth Cliath on it. It was an emotional moment for Danny. This was his dream. He just couldn’t believe that he was standing in the very dressing room where his heroes prepared themselves for battle.
Mr Breen organised all the boys into a tight huddle around the Dubs’ jersey – to fit them all in he had to get most of them to sit or lie on the floor – and took a picture for the school’s wall of memories.
After the dressing room, they passed through a warm-up area. It was amazing – a big, white room with artificial grass on the floor and netting along the ceiling. This was where the teams practised before going out to a match.
Danny’s stomach was starting to churn. He knew that the moment was close.
The guide led them back out of the dressing room area and through a short green tunnel. Finally! They were pitch side!
All the boys cheered. Danny Wilde was the loudest of all. Even Todd Bailey let out a roar of appreciation at this wonderful place.
As everyone followed the guide up to the trophy presentation area – where they were shown the President’s seat, number 21, Danny, Splinter and Todd remained pitch side.
‘Why isn’t that corner over there covered with a stand?’ asked Todd.
‘History,’ answered Danny.
‘History?’ repeated Todd.
Danny told Todd the story of Hill 16 and the Dubs and the tale of how the rubble from the 1916 Rising was used to make the Hill.
‘That’s sacred ground, Todd,’ said Danny.
‘Yeah!’ agreed Splinter.
‘D’ya think you’re ever gonna play for the Dubs, Danny?’ asked Todd.
Danny turned to Todd.
‘It’s my dream, man. I know I’m going to play for them. And some day, up there where all the lads are standing, I’m going to lift the Sam Maguire Cup.’
Todd smiled.
‘I wouldn’t mind a bit of that action too.’
Splinter looked at Danny, then at Todd.
‘Then you know what you have to do, don’t you, Todd?’ laughed Splinter.
* * *
To everyone’s disappointment, the tour of the stadium was nearing its end. The guide led them all up into a VIP area, then up several escalators and showed them around the media centre. Danny got one last glimpse of the pitch, before they were led back down loads of sloping paths, where they ended up back in the concrete tunnel, were the tour had begun.
With the turn of key, a door was opened and they were back in the museum again.
Principal Dunstan thanked the guide, who was nipping off for a well-deserved cup of tea, then told everyone that they could have a few minutes more to have a look around the upper level of the museum before their departure.
Even though everyone was instructed to keep quiet and orderly, the mood upstairs in the museum was chaotic. All the boys were rushing around to catch a glimpse of this and that. Danny ushered Splinter over to section number twenty-nine.
‘Look Splinter. The real Sam Maguire Cup.’
Splinter looked at Danny with a bewildered expression.
‘What do you mean the real one?’ asked Splinter.
‘That’s the real one,’ insisted Danny. ‘It was put up here in 1988, and a replica was made then.’
‘Nice one!’ said Splinter.
‘Where’s Todd?’ asked Danny. ‘I have to show him this.’
Danny found Todd in section twenty-five – the internationals area.
Todd was looking at an Australia versus Ireland international compromise game.
‘Did you play much Aussie rules, Todd?’ asked Danny.
Todd didn’t turn around. He just kept staring at the screen.
‘All the time, mate,’ he answered.
‘Do you miss it?’
Before Todd had a chance to answer, Splinter came rushing around the corner. He was hyper!
‘Come on! Yiz are missing all the fun!’
Splinter dragged them up to sections thirty and thirty-one. All the other boys were there and there was great banter going on. It was an interactive games area.
‘Savage!’ said Danny.
There were two kinds of green areas, leading up to two yellow and orange walls, about ten metres away.
There was netting separating the two play areas.
The right side area was for hurling.
You had to hit a sliotar at the wall and your speed was then shown above the wall.
Danny had little or no interest in this except for the fact that Mr Breen was boring the pants off a few poor unfortunates as to how to hold a hurley properly.
Not for Danny Wilde!
All the good action was in the left play area – the football area.
There were two holes in the top corners of its wall, and the trick was to kick the ball into one of the holes. It required great precision and GAA skill.
There was a great show going on here as Principal Dunstan was trying to kick the ball out of his right hand, and nearly over-balancing. He missed it a few times and nearly ended up on his ear. All the boys were in stitches.
Danny bravely stepped in to give him a bit of advice.
‘You can’t do it like that!’ he laughed.
‘Go on, Danny!’ shouted Billy Stapleton. ‘Shown him how it’s done.’
Principal Dunstan handed the ball to Danny and humbly stepped aside.
‘In your own time, Mr Wilde,’ he said. ‘I believe you’re a bit of a dab hand at this game. Don’t let the school down now.’
Word of the banter that was going on in the interactive area was filtering around the building, so some of the staff hurried up the stairs to watch, followed by a couple of German girls who were waiting for the next tour. The crowd huddled behind Danny as he held the ball and gazed intently at the top right-hand corner hole in the wall.
‘This is impossible,’ Todd whispered to Splinter.
Splinter looked at Todd.
‘You don’t know our Danny. When he gets something in his head, there’s very little he can’t do with a football.’
Todd watched, anxiously awaiting Danny’s shot. He hoped in his heart that Danny would make the score, even though it seemed totally impossible.
Danny stepped back. The crowd of onlookers stepped back.
Hearts could be heard beating, it was so silent in that room.
Danny made his move.
He released the ball down to the outside of his right runner and kicked it toward the wall.
The ball swerved away from the netting and rattled through the hole, making a bang and a clatter as it hit the metal on the inside of the wall.
Everyone cheered as the ball shot back out through a hole in the bottom of the wall and Danny Wilde picked it up and walked back toward his principal.
Danny handed the ball to Mr Dunstan, whose jaw was still hanging open.
‘Here you go,’ smiled Danny and he casually left the room, followed by Splinter
and Todd jumping up on his back cheering.
With that wonderful shot, Danny had capped off the perfect trip to Croke Park. There was nothing left worth seeing that would better that moment.
Chapter Six
Todd’s First Training Session
Danny and Splinter talked their way through the whole training session that night on the Little Croker, telling all the other players about their amazing trip to Croke Park earlier that day.
Mick would probably not have been so easy on them if Danny hadn’t told him the good news that Todd Bailey was finally considering joining their team.
‘He’s at least thinking about joining,’ said Danny. ‘He got all fired up after the tour. He’s going to come up on Thursday night to training.’
Mick Wilde was chuffed. Todd could be the bandage that he needed to repair the gaping wound up front. The loss of in-form Barry Sweeney had hurt Mick’s team more than he would ever have thought.
Of course he had his subs, and it was only fair to use them, but Mick couldn’t, like any good manager, resist the opportunity of getting his hands on a good player when it came along.
Mick was no scout – that wasn’t the way he worked. GAA wasn’t like soccer. He wouldn’t be going out of his way to bring in players, but if they happened to come along by whatever luck, as Todd had, then his door was open wide.
* * *
Todd turned up for training on Thursday evening as promised. He was early and seemed very enthusiastic and raring to go. Todd’s early arrival gave Danny a chance to introduce him to each player as they turned up. Mick could have done this, but he liked to give Danny these things to do. It was all part of being a captain, according to Mick, the building up of captain and player relations.
It didn’t take long for someone to mention that Todd looked slightly different to everyone else. It wasn’t the fact that he was bigger than all the other boys (except for big Johnner Purcell), or better-looking or anything like that, it was simply that his training gear was different.
‘What kind of jersey is that you’re wearing?’ asked Paddy Timmons. ‘It’s a bit skimpy. How come it has no sleeves?’
