Football Spirit, page 8
By the following evening Eoin still hadn’t asked Mr McCaffrey. He steeled himself for the inevitable resistance and decided to catch him after dinner. He kept an eye on him in the dining hall, and as soon as the head stood up, Eoin made a beeline for him.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ he started. ‘There’s a match on Friday that Alan, Dylan and I would like to go to.’
Mr McCaffrey frowned. Eoin steeled himself for the rejection, but Mr Finn, who had been dining alongside the headmaster, smiled.
‘Is this Bohemians again?’ he asked. ‘I would love to go along if you chaps wouldn’t mind.’
The principal shrugged. ‘Well, if you don’t mind ensuring they all get back here in one piece, Andy, that’s fine by me,’ he said.
‘Excellent,’ said Mr Finn. ‘I’ll meet you at the front of the school at half past four on Friday so, Eoin. Do I have to wear a scarf and wave a rattle?’
‘If it gets cold I’ll lend you my scarf,’ replied Eoin, ‘but there’s no need for the rattle, whatever that is.’
Mr Finn explained how football fans used to wave a noisy wooden rattle when he was young, and from the sounds of it, it wasn’t missed in modern stadiums.
‘No, I think we’ll teach you a few of the chants and you’ll be fine then, thank you, sir – and thank you headmaster.’
Alan and Dylan were delighted that the way had been cleared for another football excursion, but they were concerned that Mr Finn might cramp their style.
‘We won’t be able to talk to Liam and Phil if Mr Finn is there,’ complained Alan as they walked back to their room.
‘I know,’ said Eoin. ‘We may have to run a diversion – Alan might be the best one to talk to the ghosts.’
‘I suppose it’s his grandad,’ Dylan agreed.
Friday came around quickly, and the boys were looking forward to having Mr Finn along. Since he retired as a teacher he was a lot more relaxed and he became a bit of a funny man, always cracking corny jokes with the boys.
He turned up at the school wearing a quite ridiculous red and white woollen cap with a huge cannon in the middle, the famous symbol of Arsenal football club.
‘This is my lucky charm,’ he explained to the boys. ‘If I wiggle my ears the gun goes off.’
‘It’s probably a good idea to leave it in your pocket, sir,’ Eoin suggested. ‘It’s a warm evening and there’s no sign of rain. You’ll be the only one in the ground wearing a hat – especially one for a team not playing.’
Mr Finn laughed and pocketed the cap. ‘It’s been far too long since I went to an association football match. You will have to guide me though the correct behaviour this evening. I trust you won’t lead me astray.’
Chapter 34
The boys managed to get in early enough to secure their usual seats at the back of the stand. Bohs were playing Ballsbridge Rangers in one of the many Dublin derby matches and the ground filled up quicker than usual.
‘This is quite exciting,’ said Mr Finn as he watched the crowds sway and chant even before the game had kicked off.
‘Are you a Bohs fan, sir?’ asked Dylan.
‘Well it’s very late in life for me to making a new commitment, but I do like their shirts and their name reminds me of a very enjoyable holiday I spent in Czechoslovakia – as it was called then – many years ago.’
Dylan looked puzzled.
‘That’s where they get their name from I think,’ explained Mr Finn. ‘The west of the Czech Republic was once made up of an old kingdom called Bohemia.’
‘I suppose that’s as good a reason as any to support a team,’ said Eoin. ‘I’m not even sure why I’ve become a fan – I think it was just to go along with Alan.’
‘Well, that’s quite a good reason too,’ said the old teacher. ‘It’s nice to go along to matches with your pals. This could become a life-long pursuit for you.’
They joined in with the crowd singing the Bohs favourits ‘Hold me Now’ before they settled back to watch the game, and again Bohs’ striker Seb Joyce was the star of the show.
‘He’s very fast on his feet, isn’t he,’ said Mr Finn. ‘I was reading about him in the newspaper this morning. It seems there will be some scouts here from some of the big English clubs. They say he could be worth millions.’
‘You’d hate to lose him, wouldn’t you?’ said Alan, ‘But Bohs could do an awful lot with that sort of money. They could keep the club going for years and buy some really good players too.’
Joyce rattled the woodwork twice before he finally scored a brilliant individual goal that brought almost the entire stand to its feet. Eoin noticed that even those wearing Ballsbridge Rangers colours were applauding.
‘That was a splendid shot,’ announced Mr Finn, waving his red and white cap above his head.
The boys looked at each other, mildly embarrassed by their companion.
Half-time arrived and Alan winked at Eoin.
‘I’m going to get a drink, would you like a cup of tea, Mr Finn?’ he asked.
‘That’s very kind of you, thank you,’ he replied.
‘Will you come too Eoin, to help me carry them?’ asked Alan.
The pair scampered down the gangway and ducked in under the stand. But instead of heading for the tea-stall they found the hallway outside the bar and stood looking at the photo of Liam Whelan and the famous Busby Babes team.
‘Are you lads looking for me?’ came a voice from behind them. Liam had appeared, wearing his United kit, and alongside him stood Phil.
‘Yeah, we were hoping we’d bump into you,’ said Alan.
‘It’s funny, you’re the second people to look at the photo in the last few minutes,’ said Phil. ‘There was a couple of men here who studied the picture closely – they’ve just gone into the bar.’
‘They were English lads, Manchester by the sound of their accents,’ Liam told them. ‘They pointed me out in the picture and said Joyce could be the next big signing from Dublin.’
‘He’s a darling player, isn’t he?’ said Phil.
‘They were talking about bringing United over to play a friendly as part of the deal, that would be a real money spinner for Bohs,’ added Liam.
‘Wow, I’d love to see that,’ said Alan.
‘Have you heard any rumblings about any trouble?’ asked Eoin. ‘It’s been quiet back in school, although we’re in the semi of the cup on Monday. You should come out to Castlerock to check us out.’
The boys said their goodbyes and dashed off to get Mr Finn his tea and themselves some soft drinks. By the time they got back to their seat the game had restarted and Ballsbridge Rangers had equalised.
‘That was unfortunate,’ said Mr Finn, ‘your absence probably cost your team that goal.’
‘Ah, don’t hang that on us, sir,’ said Alan. ‘There was a big queue.’
Chapter 35
Bohs rallied and Joyce scored a second goal with a shot from fifteen metres out.
‘How does he hit it so hard,’ wondered Dylan, as they saluted the score.
‘He just seems to have so much time,’ noted Mr Finn. ‘He gets himself in position to shoot and can pick his spot. He’s a very special player.’
‘He ees indeed,’ said a man sitting in front, who turned around and grinned at them. ‘I haf came all ze way from Paris to watch him, he ees a magical talent.’
Unfortunately Bohs couldn’t hold on to the lead and with seconds left to play Ballsbridge forced the ball into the net from a scrappy corner.
‘Is it penalties?’ asked Dylan as the referee blew the final whistle.
‘No, it goes to a replay,’ answered Alan. ‘We have to play them in the RDS in two weeks.’
‘Well, that was very exciting,’ said Mr Finn, ‘I’ll have to see about getting tickets for the replay so.’
As they walked slowly towards the exits, Dylan spotted two men chatting beside the entrance to the tunnel.
‘That’s Kenny Butcher, he’s United’s assistant manager,’ he told his pals. ‘He played on the team that won the Champions League ten years ago.’
‘They must be the pair that Liam and Phil saw downstairs,’ Eoin whispered to him.
‘I’d love to get his autograph – is that OK, sir?’ Alan asked the retired teacher.
Mr Finn nodded and the boys walked over and politely asked the former star would he mind signing their match programme.
‘No problem lads, are you Bohs fans?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, and I support United too,’ Dylan added quickly.
‘What do you think of that lad Seb Joyce?’ Kenny asked.
‘He’s amazing,’ they all replied together. ‘Best player we have,’ added Alan.
Kenny nodded in agreement as he finished signing.
‘Are you going to buy him for United?’ asked Eoin.
Kenny laughed and introduced the man beside him as their head scout. ‘Well I do hope so, we think he would be a great player at Old Trafford too.’
A tall gentleman wearing a long black coat stepped forward. ‘Mr Butcher, I’m Gerry Flanagan, I own the Ballsbridge Rangers. Bohs are very lucky indeed to have a talent like Joyce.’
The pair shook hands, and he introduced him to the United chief scout.
Eoin tugged Alan’s sleeve, signalling to him that they should hang around for a minute or two.
‘And how much do you expect to pay for him?’ asked Flanagan.
‘A player like that we would normally offer eight to ten million pounds,’ he replied. ‘But did you see the grandstand there? There’s scouts from Chelsea, City, Spurs, and a couple from France and Spain too. This guy is one of the hottest prospects in Europe right now. I suspect he could fetch up to twenty million.’
The Ballsbridge owner whistled. ‘Wow, that’s about twenty-five million euro – that would be a game changer over here. Bohs could buy up all the best players and coaches – and win everything for the next ten seasons.’
‘Aye,’ said Kenny Butcher, ‘If you ever get a lad half as good as him make sure and give us first dibs on him please.’
The men all went their separate ways and Eoin and Alan rejoined Dylan and Mr Finn.
‘That was very interesting,’ Alan said, before relating the conversation between the three adults.
‘I can see what he means,’ said Mr Finn, ‘A sum like that would means Bohs would dominate football here for years to come.’
Chapter 36
Billy had the field looking immaculate for the Red Rockets semi-final, which was more than could could be said for their collection of jerseys.
‘Three Man U, two Arsenal, two Liverpool, one Sligo Rovers, one Bayern Munich and one Munster rugby shirt, plus Charlie in Liverpool green,’ sighed Alan. ‘I wonder if we sold Ernesto to Bohs would we get enough to buy a nice red kit that made us look like a team?’
‘At least you have a proper pair of socks this time,’ said Dylan.
Alan looked at his feet. With a rising feeling of panic he realised that he wasn’t wearing his grandfather’s socks.
‘Oh no,’ he cried. ‘I left them in to be washed and they haven’t come back yet.’
Eoin, who had agreed to act as linesman again, teased his pal: ‘You’ll be rubbish without them,’ he told him.
Alan looked worried, but with only seconds to kickoff he couldn’t do much about it.
A crowd twice as big as that which attended the previous friendly had come out to watch and they cheered the referee as he blew the whistle to start the game. Red Rockets kicked off and quickly got on top of their opponents, St Malachy’s. Their pressure paid off in the eighteenth minute when Richie Duffy broke through the defence and slotted the ball into the bottom corner of the net.
Alan wasn’t enjoying the game however, and the missing socks were preying on his mind. He had started at right-back and his opposing forward had a bit more pace than Alan. Twice in the middle of the half he was beaten on the outside and allowed get a cross in, which sent Dylan into a rage.
‘Come on, Alan, get your tackle in,’ he roared after the second mistake.
‘Sorry Dyl,’ Alan mumbled, relieved that Jin Chen had headed the ball away safely.
But Alan continued to struggle, and just before half-time a loose ball fell to him on the edge of the Rockets’ penalty area. He swung his leg to clear it upfield but miskicked and the ball squirted off his boot into the path of the St Malachy’s striker. He recovered from his surprise to fire a low drive past Charlie to make the score one apiece when the whistle blew for the interval.
‘Ah, Alan, that was just brutal,’ said Dylan when they gathered in a huddle. ‘You’re having a nightmare there. We’ll leave you on for the next while but if you don’t settle we’ll bring on Theo for the last half hour.’
Alan nodded, and excused himself from the group, dashing across to where Eoin was standing chatting on the touchline.
‘Hey, Eoin, can you do me a big favour – can you check is our laundry back in the room? And if it’s there can you bring me those old Bohs socks? I’m playing so badly and I’m sure it’s the socks…’
Eoin agreed and trotted off to the dormitory, delighted to get a chance to test his recovering ankle.
Sure enough, the socks were in their room and he upped his speed on the return journey. Alan spotted him coming and immediately kicked off his boots.
Pulling on the black and red socks, he thanked Eoin, who wished him luck.
‘Hurry up there, full-back,’ called the referee, ‘we’re all ready to start.’
Alan tied his boots quickly and signalled to the ref, who restarted the game. With the ancient socks on his feet, Alan felt a foot taller, and everything inside him seemed to race quicker too. He was much more confident in his play and his first chance with the ball at his feet he hoisted a pass over the midfielders to the feet of Figo Murphy who skipped past the full back and rocketed the ball to the net.
‘Wow, that was some pass,’ Dylan told him. ‘You’re like a new player.’
Red Rockets held their lead, and the only blip came with ten minutes to go when Ernesto was floored in the area and the referee pointed to the spot.
‘I’ll take it,’ said Richie, taking the ball from the Uruguayan.
It was a poor penalty however, and the ball was comfortably saved by the St Malachy’s goalie.
The huge crowd erupted at full-time, and they chanted the name of the school as well as ‘Er-nes-to, Er-nes-to’ for a long time afterwards.
Chapter 37
As he went into the dining hall that night, Eoin smiled as he heard the first years still chanting the star forward’s name on the other side of the room. Richie Duffy came in behind him and Eoin extended his hand towards him.
‘Well played, Richie, that was a cracking first goal,’ he told him as they shook hands.
‘Thanks Eoin, I’m enjoying the soccer, sorry you got crocked there, will you be back soon?’
Eoin filled him in before they went off to join their own pals.
At the seniors table he was seated with Alan, Dylan and Charlie.
‘Thanks again for going on the hunt for the socks,’ Alan told him. ‘They certainly made me play a lot better.’
Eoin smiled. ‘I’m not sure about that Al, you’ve worked hard to turn yourself into a class player now. Those socks won’t last forever, so you need to start believing in yourself without them.’
‘What did you think about Richie snatching the penalty away from Ernesto?’ asked Dylan.
‘Well, on one level I respect his confidence that he wanted to take it,’ Eoin replied. ‘But it’s the job of the coach and the captain to decide on the penalty taker. If you weren’t happy you should have stepped in.’
Dylan nodded. ‘Well he won’t be taking the next one. We’ll have a competition at practice tomorrow to see who is best at taking penos and they can have the job.’
‘We might all need to practise them,’ said Charlie. ‘If the final ends in a draw it goes to penalties.’
‘Speaking of the final, any idea when it will be?’ asked Eoin. ‘I’m definitely up to some light training, and you never know I might be right for the final.’
‘If selected!’ replied Dylan. ‘We’ve a sound team who’ve got us into the final, so we’ll be careful about making changes.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Eoin. ‘I’m not sure I could play a full game anyway – but I might be able to do a job for you off the bench.’
Next day, after checking his email, Dylan rushed to join the boys at training. ‘You won’t believe who we’ve got in the final,’ he started, ‘only Ligouri College!’
‘Brilliant, we could beat them!’ said Charlie.
‘We did beat them,’ Alan reminded them.
‘Are we at home this time?’ asked Theo, ‘or down in their place?’
‘No,’ grinned Dylan, ‘we’re going to have to get a bigger bus for this one – it’s going to be held in Dalymount Park.’
‘That’s amazing,’ said Eoin. ‘At least we’ll know how to get there.’
The squad were buzzing for the session and the time passed quickly. Figo, as usual, won the keepy-uppy competition before Dylan called them together. He explained that the final would be decided on penalties in the event of a draw, so they needed to practise them, and they needed to decide which five players would take part if it was needed.
‘So, any volunteers for penos?’ asked Dylan.
Richie, Ernesto and Figo all put up their hands immediately, as did Dylan. A few of the guys who hadn’t played yet, like Benjy and John, also volunteered.
‘James? Andrew?’ asked the skipper. The boys shook their head.
‘Alan?’
‘OK,’ he agreed. ‘But we’ll need more than five if it goes to “sudden death”. Everyone should at least practice them in case they are needed.’
Each player had two shots at Charlie in goal, but only three of them scored twice – Duffy, Ernesto and Alan.
Eoin had joined in the practice part of the session, but once they started a squad match he went off to do a few laps of the field. The penalty competition was nearly over when he rejoined the group.
