Rugby Heroes

by Gerard Siggins

  Eoin gulped. ‘I know. I have tickets for that stand myself for that game.’

  Neil promised he wouldn’t mention Eoin’s story to anyone else.

  ‘But could you do me just one favour?’ he asked. ‘I’d love to meet Brian. I’ve so much to ask him, and to tell him.’

  Eoin nodded. ‘I’ll try. I haven’t seen much of him this term, and he’s usually to be found around the stadium, which is probably off-limits for a while.’

  Neil nodded, and arranged to meet Eoin back in the lobby at nine o’clock.

  Rory and Charlie were there before Eoin, and Paddy and Sam had come along to say goodbye and good luck.

  ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of the grandstand collapsing at Dodder Woods, is there?’ laughed Paddy.

  Eoin grinned. ‘Maybe your big mouth might set off a few tremors – or Rory’s.’

  The boys all had copies of the newspaper and jokingly asked Eoin to sign his autograph on them.

  ‘I think they got my good side, didn’t they,’ chuckled Eoin. ‘But any bets my Mam tells me its time I got a haircut.’

  Neil arrived and helped the Castlerock trio pile their gear into the mini-van. They waved goodbye to their friends and set off on the road to Dodder, a boarding school twenty miles outside the city.

  Eoin was relieved to be out of the hotel and away from the new pressures that had come after the tournament was over. It would be good to be back with his school mates.

  The journey went quickly, with Rory keeping everyone entertained with his stories about how he and Alan had fooled the reporters the night before by taking them on a wild goose chase around the restaurants of the area.

  Alan was waiting in the car park when they pulled into Dodder Woods.

  ‘Hey, Eoin, did you see the paper?’ he called as the players stepped out of the van.

  Eoin lifted his gear out onto the ground, and turned to his pal.

  ‘Hi Alan. Thanks again for your help last night, and yes, I’ve seen the papers. Has anyone else in Castlerock?’

  ‘Eh… yes,’ he replied, pointing to where the team had gathered outside the dressing room and were now waving newspapers at him and chanting, ‘He-rohhh, he-rohhh, he-ro-ohhh’.

  Eoin waved back, jokingly soaking up the adulation, but noticed that just one of the team was standing off to one side, not taking part in the fun.

  Dylan.

  Chapter 39

  ‘All right everyone, time to get changed,’ called out Mr Carey, who pointed them in the direction of the dressing rooms.

  Eoin, Rory and Charlie followed the rest of the squad inside, taking the bench in the corner before the coach began his talk. Eoin tried to catch Dylan’s eye, but the Castlerock captain didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with him.

  Mr Carey welcomed the international trio back, and reminded them of the Castlerock tactical calls and how they would have to quickly forget they were playing for Ireland. Dylan said a few words too, but didn’t mention the returnees.

  Outside, Eoin nodded to Dodder Woods’ Oisín Deegan, who less than twenty-four hours before had been his team-mate. He also exchanged a glance with Marcus McCord, who he had played with for Leinster before the second-row was discarded. The fact that he was a bully and had cheated his way on to the team didn’t endear him to Eoin, or anyone else.

  Having played at a higher level for weeks, Eoin found it very easy to adjust to Junior Cup schools’ rugby. He and Rory were in top form, and their interplay set up two tries for the centres, Richie and Mikey, in the first ten minutes. With a couple of minutes left in the half Eoin sent up a garryowen, and chased it all the way into the Dodder 22.

  He fielded the ball before it bounced, and although he fell heavily he fed the ball back quickly and Castlerock continued to attack. He had just stood up when he heard another cheer as the replacement winger, Theo Phelan, crossed for a try.

  ‘Nineteen-nil,’ grinned Mr Carey at half-time as the energy bars and bottles of orange were passed around. ‘I think we can make a few changes now. We don’t want to flog our best players with the final coming so soon.’

  Eoin glanced across at Rory, who looked just as puzzled as he was.

  ‘Grehan and Madden, we’ll take you off. Duffy into out-half, Joe Memery comes on at centre and Charlie Adams at No.9.’

  There was general surprise among the squad, who had become used to having Eoin there to solve all their problems when they arose. But Mr Carey reassured them that there was enough talent still there to not just hold on but to extend their lead.

  Eoin wasn’t so sure of that, but he didn’t say anything out loud. He bit his tongue again when Dodder scored a try with the first attack of the second half. Castlerock were no longer the smooth-running assured half-back unit that had been seen in the first half. Duffy wasn’t a bad player, but he didn’t have Eoin’s eye for a gap or willingness to do something a bit different. Dodder soon saw the predictability in his play and moved to close him down. Duffy then started to get ratty and blamed Charlie Adams for his own mistakes.

  The result of all this proved disastrous, and within twenty minutes the 19-0 half-time lead was down to 19-17.

  Mr Carey changed the whole front row, and when Theo Phelan was knocked flat by a heavy tackle he was forced to send on Shane Keane, who hadn’t played all season due to injury.

  ‘I’ve no one left on the bench,’ he sighed. ‘We can’t afford anyone else to get injured.’

  Eoin and Rory looked at each other again, despairing at what was happening out on the field and seeing their hopes of a second Junior Cup medal slipping away.

  Castlerock battled hard, but it was clear they were going to crack at some stage. Charlie Bermingham was magnificent, tackling everything that moved within five metres of him, but the toll of playing nearly three hours of rugby in less than twenty hours was starting to tell.

  What made matters worse was Richie Duffy’s goal kicking – Castlerock had been lucky to receive two penalties from kickable distance, but both were badly skewed well wide of the posts.

  And then to cap it all, Joe Memery was the victim of a crunching tackle that left him out cold on the ground. The coaches and match officials stood around as he was helped to his feet by the school doctor, who told the referee he would have to do a head injury assessment.

  Mr Carey walked back to the touchline and shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Whatever chance we had of holding on with fifteen men, we’ve none with fourteen,’ he muttered to Eoin and Rory.

  They watched as Joe was helped from the field, knowing that whatever the result of the head injury assessment, as a youth player he would not be allowed on the field again.

  ‘Mr Carey, Mr Carey,’ came a call from behind the bench where the Castlerock team were sitting. Through the crowd pushed Alan, waving a booklet.

  ‘Mr Carey,’ he gasped. ‘You know you can put back on someone you’ve already substituted?’

  ‘What? How?’ asked the puzzled coach.

  ‘Look, it’s here in the laws,’ replied Alan. ‘3.14, Substituted players rejoining the match. “A player can come back to replace a player undertaking a Head Injury Assessment in accordance with Law 3.12”,’ he read. ‘That means you can bring Eoin back on… or anyone else, of course.’

  Mr Carey snatched the laws book from Alan’s hand and raced across to where the referee was about the restart the game.

  Eoin and his pals watched as Mr Carey animatedly explained the situation, stabbing his finger in the booklet. The Dodder coach joined them, but after a few seconds they all seemed to agree and Mr Carey raced back to the touchline.

  ‘Madden, get your tracksuit off. You’re going out-half of course, tell Duffy to drop back to centre. And Eoin… win this game for us.

  ‘And Alan, you little beauty. If we win the cup I’ll make sure you get a medal.’

  Chapter 40

  There was just over ten minutes left, but Eoin’s arrival had given Castlerock a huge boost. There was a
new spring in their step, and every player tackled just that little bit harder.

  Eoin took control in midfield and ensured Dodder never got a chance to make a scoring chance. With the clock ticking into the last minute they grew desperate and Eoin noticed the scrum-half was shaping to try a skip pass which might release their backs. Just as he got the ball away Eoin charged for the gap and was delighted he had read the plan. Instead of the ball ending up in Marcus McCord’s hands, Eoin snatched it out of the air and sprinted out of reach of the defence.

  As he neared the goalposts he looked over his shoulder, but Dodder Woods’ defence had already given up the chase. The only player there to usher him home was Dylan, a rare grin on his face.

  ‘Ah Dyl, you’re always there in support, no matter what,’ smiled Eoin. ‘Here, you deserve this,’ he added, tossing the ball back to his pal who returned the grin before touching the ball down under the crossbar.

  The pair were instantly submerged in a sea of Castlerock jerseys, but Eoin shook off the attention to prepare himself for the conversion. It went over easily, and he rejoined his delighted team-mates on the sideline.

  Mr Carey spoke first: ‘Right lads, that was a close one, and I apologise for mishandling the replacements. But Alan was on top of the regulations and we owe him a huge debt. Now, take it easy this weekend – the final is only five days away and we don’t need any more injury doubts.’

  Eoin put his arm across Alan’s shoulder as they walked off the field.

  ‘That was some stunt, Al. Do you read those rule books in bed at night?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ admitted his friend. ‘Somebody has to know the rules properly – and didn’t it pay off today?’

  ‘Totally,’ laughed Eoin.

  Dylan jogged up alongside and he too thanked Alan.

  ‘And you too,’ he grinned at Eoin. ‘I must confess I was glad to see you coming back on. And fair play for handing me that try.’

  ‘No bother, how many is that now in the cup run?’

  ‘Twelve,’ replied Dylan. ‘Mr Finn says he’s been checking back through the school archives and thinks it might even be close to the record for the whole competition.’

  ‘Cool,’ said Alan. ‘I’ll ask Mr Finn if he needs a hand. We’d be a lot quicker with a computer.’

  Chapter 41

  The bus pulled into the Castlerock car park in late afternoon, when there was a large group of boarders waiting to welcome them.

  ‘Another final,’ called out Mr McCaffrey as Dylan led his team off the bus to load applause and cheers.

  As Eoin got off he was greeted by a series of clicks as if a busload of grasshoppers had just pulled up too. He stared out at his fellow pupils, most of whom were pointing smart phone cameras at him, and he just knew he would be all over social media within a few minutes.

  Mr McCaffrey must have sensed his discomfort, because he bellowed at the boys to stop.

  ‘Right,’ he roared. ‘I want a queue to form in front of me, and I want to see everyone who took a photo of any of this team deleting it. This is private property and your schoolmates are entitled to privacy here. If I see any evidence of such photos appearing on inter-web sites I will be calling your parents, confiscating your phone and computer, and barring you from any extra-curricular activities for a month.’

  The boys gasped, and hurried to form a line in front of the headmaster.

  ‘Just because one of our pupils has attracted some degree of celebrity does not allow you to invade his privacy. He has a big game ahead, and his Junior Certificate examination, so please leave him in peace.’

  Eoin sighed with relief, and nodded his thanks to the headmaster.

  ‘There’s been a couple of journalists knocking around,’ Mr Carey told him. ‘But Mr McCaffrey gave them the fright of their lives. He took down that cavalry sword from over his mantelpiece and took it out to the front of the school where he waved it over his head. They took to their heels and ran!’

  Eoin laughed, picturing Mr McCaffrey as a type of Braveheart-in-a-suit, and himself, Dylan and Alan chuckled all the way up to their dormitory.

  Eoin kept his head down for the next three days, desperately trying to catch up with the studies which he had neglected as rugby took charge. He kept up his exercising too, and he treasured the twenty-minute jog he took to start and finish his day.

  The night before the final he headed off in the direction of The Rock, halting his stopwatch as he made his way through the bushes. Twilight had fallen, and the orange glow in the sky reminded him of home as he sat and relaxed his leg muscles.

  As he sipped from a bottle of water he heard the familiar rustling which heralded the arrival of one of his spectral friends. Looking around, he was surprised to see that it was the newest ghost in his life, Henry Dunlop, who had appeared.

  ‘Ah, Master Madden, we meet again. Mr Hanrahan told me that I would find you here.’

  Eoin greeted the elderly gentleman, who was wearing a shiny black silk top hat.

  ‘We – the rugby spirits – have all been very shocked by that has happened to the old Champion Club ground…’

  Eoin looked puzzled, but remembered from his book that that was the name of the first club to occupy Lansdowne Road.

  ‘Ah, the Aviva,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, that strange glass and steel box where once we had a covered shed and a rope to keep spectators from walking onto the pitch.’

  ‘I don’t think a rope would work these days,’ grinned Eoin.

  ‘Indeed,’ said Henry, returning the smile.

  ‘The rest of them are back at the ground, helping to guide the engineers to the dangerous parts, although they don’t really know they are being guided. It’s lucky you arrived when you did, as I think the next big game could have caused a serious collapse. We hear them discussing the problems and it now appears there will be no need for demolition, just some excavation to redirect the old streams and repair work. They’ll be testing it for months to make sure it’s safe though.’

  ‘So, they won’t be playing England there next month?’ asked Eoin.

  ‘No, I think they said they would play it somewhere else in Dublin. Cork Park, I think they called it?’

  Eoin laughed at Henry, and corrected him, before he made his farewells and jogged back to the dormitory.

  Chapter 42

  The Junior Cup final was usually staged in Aviva Stadium, but had been moved at very short notice to the Leinster stadium in Donnybrook village. Although the occasion seemed smaller, Eoin liked the little ground, which would be packed to the rafters for the final. It was even more special for him because the opponents were Rostipp College, a school not far from his home where several of his primary school friends were now studying.

  That meant that every second accent he heard as he walked around the ground was a Tipperary one. Because of his local connections and the recent publicity, most of the opposing fans knew who he was and they unleashed plenty of light-hearted banter in his direction.

  Eoin hated the attention, and got through his pre-match routines as quickly as possible. Back in the dressing room, Mr Carey handed the team sheet to the stadium announcer and turned to talk to his team.

  ‘This will be a tough, physical game, so be ready for them. They’ll come at you from the first whistle. Let’s get the ball quickly to Eoin, and use our extra pace. Alan has showed me some of the videos of their games and their full back is dodgy if you put him under pressure from high kicks.’

  Alan smiled in the corner as everyone grinned at him.

  ‘Any other observations, Mr Analyst?’ asked the coach.

  ‘The Savage brothers have won 98 per cent of all Rostipp line-outs this season, so it’s easy enough to know what to do there.

  ‘And oh yeah, Mr Finn and I have been digging back into the archives and Dylan has a chance of breaking the Leinster Junior Cup try-scoring record today. He has twelve already and the record is thirteen – by an old Castlerock guy called Dixie Madden. Eoin’s grandad
.’

  Eoin tried hard not to look annoyed. It wasn’t that it was Dixie whose record was in danger, but he feared that Dylan would let the pursuit of the landmark get in the way of the most important target today – winning the cup.

  There was a ripple of wows and good-lucks but Mr Carey seemed to share Eoin’s misgivings.

  ‘Alright, alright, settle down. I’m sure we’d all be delighted if Dylan was to break the record, but I’d be much, much happier if you were all sitting here two hours from now with a gold medal hanging from your neck. Rugby is a team game and I’m sure Dylan won’t let you forget that too.’

  Mr Carey was right about Rostipp, whose forwards looked five centimetres taller and five kilograms heavier than Castlerock’s. From the kick-off they charged at their opponents’ pack, with pursuit of the ball low down on their list of priorities.

  Charlie Bermingham took a huge blow as two Rostipp players arrived at once, and the Castlerock back-row fell awkwardly on his shoulder. His cries alerted the referee to bring play to a halt.

  ‘I heard it pop ref,’ Charlie winced. ‘I’ll need the doc.’

  The referee called on the medical officer who took one look at Charlie and signalled to Mr Carey that his part in the game was now over. With help from the referee he lifted Charlie to his feet and they shouldered him from the field.

  As the official jogged back onto the field he was confronted by Dylan.

  ‘What are you going to do about that, ref?’ Dylan asked. ‘That was pure thuggery? Charlie was nowhere near the ball – they just took him out.’

  The referee seemed taken aback at having to stoop so the smallest man on the field could berate him, but he waved the Castlerock skipper away.

  ‘Knock-on, scrum to Rostipp,’ he called.

  The decision almost caused Dylan to explode, but Eoin signalled to him to keep his mouth shut.