‘Oh, the usual headaches,’ sighed Charlie as he settled down into an armchair. ‘Roger Savage has to do a fitness test, and the IRFU media man is never off the phone setting up interviews with me. I must have done fifteen with the newspapers and websites already, and three or four for the radio. The media guy gives you pointers on what you can and can’t say – so it’s easy enough – but it’s very tiring still.’
Eoin laughed. ‘When are the TV guys coming? Myself and Paddy can bounce around behind you making bunny ears.’
‘Don’t you dare,’ said Charlie. ‘They’re meeting me down in the stadium first thing in the morning so steer clear of that, please. There’s four stations want to interview me. If I knew this was part of the job I’d have turned it down.’
The boys joined the rest of the team for their evening meal, before Charlie had to join the coaches for a selection meeting. The team had been remarkably lucky to get through the first two games without any serious injury and all the names were in the hat for the decider.
Eoin wandered up to the room he was sharing with Killian, who was already snoring loudly. He watched TV for a few minutes before he remembered the Lansdowne book and fetched it from his bag.
He riffled through the pages and read Brian’s story again, before starting at the opening chapter. He read about how the original ground had been laid out on a land that was virtually a swamp, and was amazed that they used to keep a flock of sheep to keep the grass short in those days before grass-mowers were invented. He laughed at the story of how the original owner, Henry Dunlop, had to row out to the middle of the field to collect the sheep that had become stranded by flood waters.
He wondered if it had any connection with the marshy ground in which he had twisted his ankle, but before he had any more time to think about it, the book fell from his hand and he nodded off to sleep.
Eoin didn’t return to the book until the morning of match-day. He woke early and looked across to the other bed where Killian was still asleep There was no point getting up too soon as the match wasn’t until five o’clock and the only squad activity planned was a fifteen-minute run around on the pitch around lunchtime.
He picked the book up from the floor and began to read. It was fascinating to learn how the ground had been selected by Mr Dunlop, and drained to allow him to lay down a cinder running track. He was a small, whiskered man who spent most of his life building up the ground so it could host lots of sporting events, like croquet, archery, tennis, cricket and cycling, but by the time of his death it was solely used for rugby.
Eoin examined the old maps that showed the area before the ground was built, and saw there was a distillery on the site where they made whiskey. He turned the page on its side, and upside down, to get his bearings, and found the River Dodder. He looked closely at the map and was puzzled by what he saw, but the writing was too small so he decided to ask Alan later if he could make sense of it. He slipped the book into his match-day bag and started to pack for the big day ahead.
Chapter 28
It was a sunny morning, so after breakfast Eoin and Paddy went for a walk around the leafy suburb in which their hotel was situated. They passed groups of boys and girls walking to school and almost every one of them pointed them out or called ‘good luck’ after them. Even the occasional motorist beeped their horn at the pair. Eoin hated the attention, but Paddy was delighted.
‘We’re celebrities now,’ he chuckled. ‘They’ll make me Lord Mayor of Enniskillen when I get home, I reckon.’
‘Yeah, I get an awful lot of banter when I go home to Ormondstown. I’m not sure they would want me to be Lord Mayor though.’ Eoin’s home town was in Munster, which had made it awkward when he had his breakthrough success with Leinster.
They found a park and sat and watched the world go by for an hour, chatting about almost everything except rugby. Eoin liked that, he preferred to block out an upcoming game, especially the big ones. It wasn’t that he suffered particularly from nerves, just that he liked to go into a game with a clear mind and with just a couple of his coach’s instructions to focus upon.
They hired a pair of tennis rackets and bashed a ball about for a while before they realised they needed to be back at the hotel and ready to leave for the ground in half an hour.
As they jogged back they were surprised to bump into Charlie, leaning over a garden wall and looking glum.
‘What’s up Charlie, we’re leaving for the ground shortly?’ Paddy asked.
‘Ah I just needed to get out of the hotel and all the match talk,’ Charlie replied. ‘And I got a call from Mr McCaffrey telling me to take myself off at half-time…’
‘Me too,’ said Eoin. ‘He told me to tell Neil. I’m not going to, are you?’
‘I did already,’ sighed Charlie. ‘He laughed at first, then blew his top. Then he threatened to take the captaincy off me.’
‘He wouldn’t dare,’ Eoin frowned. ‘This is none of your doing. I wish these adults could sort themselves out instead of leaving it to us. It’s very unfair.’
Charlie smiled sheepishly.
‘OK, well let’s get down there and see what we can do.’
Back at the hotel, the trio brought their bags down to the lobby and waited to load them onto the bus. Neil signalled to Charlie that he wanted to speak to him, but Eoin nipped in ahead of him to buttonhole the coach.
‘Neil, I’m sorry,’ he started, ‘but I’m in the same boat as Charlie – and probably Rory too. Our headmaster is insisting that you take us off at half-time. Now, I don’t mind if you leave me on – I can take the heat – but Charlie’s really stressed by it. Can you have a word with Mr Carey?’
Neil nodded. ‘This sort of interference is unbelievable, and the last thing I need on a match day like this. I’ll ring him and see if he can call off the hounds.’
Neil left the lobby and Eoin turned back to his pals.
‘He’s going to call Carey – hopefully he can make McCaffrey see sense.’
Chapter 29
With three games due to be played on the main stadium pitch that day, time was tight and rigidly controlled down at the Aviva. The Ireland squad was allocated fifteen minutes to get used to the feel of the turf under the feet and to work out the pitch dimensions and angles. Eoin had played there several times before but he never lost the sense of excitement – or the feeling that it was a great honour to play there.
Afterwards, Neil talked to them in the dressing room and suggested they go back to the hotel for a light lunch and then either rest or come down and watch the Wales v Scotland game.
Strolling back with Noah and Paddy, Eoin checked his phone and noticed that he had got a text from Alan.
‘r u gonna watch Wal v Sco game?’
He texted back.
‘Yes. Meet you in front of stand at 2.15.’
‘That’s Alan,’ he told his friends, ‘he must have bunked off for the afternoon.’
The boys laughed. ‘I hope he’s wearing a disguise ’cos all the games are being shown live on the TV,’ chuckled Noah.
As they reached the hotel he was delighted to see a familiar car in the carpark with Tipperary registration plates, but he still pretended to be surprised when his mum and dad sprang out on him in the lobby.
‘Thanks for coming, Mam,’ he said, ‘is Dixie here too?’
‘I am indeed, and thank you for enquiring,’ came a voice from behind a giant potted plant. Out stepped his grandfather, wearing a bright green bobble hat on his head.
‘Do you like my supporters’ gear?’ he asked. ‘Your mother wouldn’t allow me to wear a replica shirt. She said it was undignified for a man my age.’
‘I’m sure you would look fine,’ laughed Eoin. ‘Are you staying for lunch?’
‘We’ve just had some,’ explained his dad, ‘but we’ll come in and look at you eating if you like. We’re going to scoot off to do some shopping for a while but we’ll be down at the ground for five o’clock.’
Eoin was very happy to
escape from the rest of the team and their pre-match talk, and enjoyed hearing all the news from home from his parents and Dixie. They told him how the gang of bicycle thieves had been rounded up and all their friends had got their bikes back.
‘I’ll get home for a couple of days over Easter,’ Eoin told them, ‘but I’d say that will be my only trip home until the summer exams are over.’
When lunch was over, Eoin organised that his family got some complimentary tickets to sit in the president’s box and told them he’d give them a wave at some stage before the game. He picked up his bag and strolled back down to the stadium alone.
Alan was sitting in the front row of the West Stand, but as soon as Eoin mentioned the live television coverage he turned white and pulled his green bobble hat down over his face.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ he snapped. ‘I’m supposed to be in school till half-past three.’
Eoin laughed and the pair relocated to the back row of the stand, where they sat behind a large crowd of Scottish supporters.
They chatted about the game, and Alan filled him in on a few stats that he thought Eoin should know such as the number of times the England out-half passed, ran or kicked the ball. He took his stats-man kit out of his bag – pencils, pens, notebooks, calculators, old programmes and a huge magnifying glass.
Eoin laughed. ‘What’s that for?’
Alan blushed. ‘I need a pair of binoculars, but I can’t afford them. This was the next best thing I could find lying around at home.’
‘But it makes you look ridiculous, like some sort of Sherlock Holmes…’
Eoin stopped, and checked his own bag.
‘Actually, that’s just the thing – I have a job for that,’ he said. ‘There’s a map here with very small print that I’d like you to take a look at.’
Eoin opened the page and explained to Alan that it was a two hundred and fifty-year-old map of the site of what later became the stadium in which they were now sitting. He drew a box with his finger to show where the pitch now was. His friend peered closely through the magnifying glass and read…
‘That line there says, “Primrose Stream” and that other one says “Mill Stream”.’
Eoin stopped and pointed across the field where the Scots had just scored another try.
‘So… behind that stand is the River Dodder, and down the back of that lower stand runs the River Swan. And there’s two streams running underneath the stadium too.’
Eoin tucked the book back into his bag and sat back in his seat. His mind was racing, unsure what to do next.
‘What’s going on, Eoin?’ asked Alan.
Eoin filled him in on what Brian had been up to and the strange happenings around the ground.
‘No wonder there’s water coming up everywhere – its built on a swamp!’
‘You have to tell someone,’ said Alan, ‘but who? And not now, with a big match kicking off in an hour or so.’
‘I’m still working that out,’ agreed Eoin. ‘I’ll have to get the game out of the way first.’
Eoin checked the stadium clock and reckoned the Wales v Scotland game was ticking into its last minute or two. The result wouldn’t have any effect on the competition, but both sets of players were still giving it everything they had.
‘This is probably the last time most of these guys will wear their country’s colours,’ mused Alan. ‘They’re really going for it.’
‘It will be the last time most of us wear it too,’ replied Eoin. ‘And it’s such an honour. You just have to grab it with both hands and do everything you can for the team because there’s no guarantee you’ll ever get another chance. I’d love to come back here some day and play for Ireland in the Six Nations, but it will take a lot of work – and a good bit of luck too,’ he added.
‘Well my only hope of getting capped for Ireland is as a match analyst,’ grinned Alan. ‘I’ll have to do maths in college I suppose.’
The referee’s whistle sounded and the Scots boys raised their arms in the air after a hard-fought 22-16 win.
‘I better go,’ said Eoin, standing up quickly. ‘I’ve got to talk to Neil about this McCaffrey thing too. Wish me luck.’
Eoin skipped down the steps two at a time before taking the lift down to the dressing room area deep in the grandstand. All the team were there already, and Neil tapped his wristwatch as Eoin trotted in.
‘Sorry, Neil, I was watching the end of the Scottish match and just let the time slip away.’
‘OK, but time is tight. Now sit down and listen while I make a few comments.’
Neil took the players through their main moves again, and highlighted a couple of England players who would need extra attention.
When he was finished, Eoin hurried into his kit, and as he tied up his bootlaces noticed Neil looming over him.
‘Mr Carey won’t answer his phone,’ he snapped. ‘And won’t answer my texts either. So what do you propose I do?’
Eoin frowned. ‘Leave this with me,’ he replied. ‘I’ll be back in five minutes.’
‘No, be back in three. We’re on a strict schedule here.’
Eoin scampered out of the dressing room and pushed his way through to get out to the tunnel. The crowd in the grandstand started to clap, but when they saw he was on his own there was a mixture of laughter and jeers. Eoin ignored it and made a beeline for the president’s box. He went over in his head what he was going to say, nervous that he would get tongue-tied and forget what he wanted to get across. He ignored the well-wishers and questioning from spectators, and headed straight for where the senior Castlerock teachers were sitting. He gestured to the headmaster and asked him to come to the back of the seated area.
‘Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’m pretty busy myself and this is very important.’ Eoin cleared his throat and began, ‘I’m going to tell our coach that you don’t want myself, Rory or Charlie to be taken off at half-time. I’m going to say you realise how important this game is for rugby followers in our country, and it would be unfair with so many people watching here, and at home on TV, to damage our chances of winning just to help one school. To play for Ireland is a rare honour, but so is playing for our school. You can be sure Rory, Charlie and I will be there tomorrow morning doing our very best for Castlerock College.’
Mr McCaffrey’s mouth dropped open, and then closed once again. Eoin was terrified he was going to explode with fury, and have him dropped from the JCT, or maybe even expelled.
The headmaster stared at Eoin before speaking. ‘I… I… I don’t know what to say,’ he started. ‘But you’re ab-so-lute-ly right,’ he went on, emphasising each syllable. ‘I’ll talk to you later, but just go out there and do your very best for Ireland.’
Eoin grinned, nodded, and rushed off to join his team in the tunnel. He searched with his eyes and found Neil at the back of the group, so he flashed him a thumbs-up. The coach smiled back and returned the signal.
Chapter 30
The big crowd got behind Ireland, but it still wasn’t enough to prevent England storming into an early 7-0 lead. Despite Neil’s warnings, the giant second-row Ed Wood was unbeatable at the lineout, plucking the ball from the sky no matter who was throwing it and who they were aiming at.
The Irish forwards were in disarray and England took advantage, making ground through a series of rucks before finding their left winger who raced over in the corner and under the posts.
Charlie gathered his forwards together for a huddle and they appeared to come up with a plan as Eoin and Rory looked on. Charlie then took Eoin aside.
‘Let’s try to keep a lid on it for a while,’ he suggested. ‘There’s no point kicking for touch with that lad winning everything. Let’s bring the backs more into the game, and try the odd garryowen.’
Eoin nodded. He had pretty much decided that was how he needed to operate from now, so he was reassured that Charlie agreed.
As half-time approached and no more points had been scored, Eoin launched a huge kick high
into the sky above the stadium. It hung in the air for half a second before it started its descent, by which time half a dozen green shirts were charging towards where they expected it to fall.
The England full-back stood under the ball but, fatally, glanced at the onrushing Irishmen. The momentary distraction ensured he missed the ball’s flight and it bounced off his chest towards the attackers.
The referee signalled the knock-on, but allowed the advantage. Paddy scooped up the ball and once he hit his stride there was no catching him and he dived over just to the left of the posts.
Paddy was still grinning at half-time as the teams trotted up the tunnel with the scoreboard blinking ‘7-7’ behind them.
‘Great garryowen, Eoin,’ he announced, slapping his pal on the back. ‘You launch a few more of them in the second half and I’ll be there to pick up the pieces.’
Eoin smiled and guzzled a bottle of water as he waited for Neil to have his say.
Charlie came over and sat beside him, and Eoin filled him and Rory in on what he said to Mr McCaffrey.
‘Whaaaaaat?’ he laughed. ‘You’ve some tough neck Eoin. And he even apologised to you? You really need to go into politics when you’re finished school.’
‘Ah, look, it needed to be said. We’re fit enough to be able to cope with two games in twenty-four hours – or sixteen hours, even!’
‘I hope you’re right,’ sniggered Rory, nursing a bruise that was starting to bloom on his forearm.
Neil was pleased at the way they had minimised the number of lineouts, and went through the plans for the second half. He reminded Eoin of his favourite chip-and-run into the corner move and suggested he attempt it early in the second half.
Eoin stood up and stretched before deciding at the last minute to use the loo in a room off the dressing-area. He washed his hands quickly, but just as he turned to exit the side-room he noticed a small, elderly man had appeared. He wore an old-fashioned suit with a shirt whose collar was pointed upwards, and his white hair sat on top of a heavily-bearded and whiskered face. He looked like Santa might, if he got an office job.
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