Football Spirit, page 9
‘Can I have a go?’ he asked, and Dylan nodded.
Eoin put the ball on the spot, took a short run, and planted it in the bottom left corner of Charlie’s goal. He put his second kick in the top right corner.
‘That’s pretty good,’ said Dylan, ‘you’re in the semifinals now.’
Only Ernesto and Eoin scored with their next shots, setting up a ‘final’ showdown to decide who would take spot kicks in a match situation.
Eoin was about to take his first kick when he stopped. ‘But I’m not likely to be playing at Dalymount,’ he said. ‘There’s no need for a final of this – Ernesto is the man for the job.’
He shook the striker’s hand. ‘Just make sure you get plenty of practice in,’ he joked. ‘Ligouri have some tough tacklers and we might be lucky enough to get a penalty this time with the neutral referee.’
‘We’ll train on Saturday morning instead of Friday this week,’ Dylan told them. ‘We’re going to watch a big cup match in the RDS – I might even pick up a few ideas.’
Chapter 38
Ernesto spent a lot of time over the next few days perfecting his penalty technique with Charlie, who was delighted to get the practice at saving them.
‘I hope you get a chance to use these skills now,’ laughed Eoin as he helped them tidy up after practice. ‘And try not to think about everyone watching you from the stands.’
Ernesto stopped and glared at him. ‘Thanks for nothing, Eoin,’ he replied. ‘I hadn’t thought of that before you brought it up.’
As they were packing away the cones, Mr Finn walked across the field towards them.
‘Good evening, boys,’ he called. ‘And congratulations on your victory – I will certainly be there at the final. But I have a small problem tomorrow.’
‘Oh no, will you miss the Bohs replay?’ Eoin asked.
‘No, not at all,’ the retired teacher replied. ‘But I will be unable to travel into Ballsbridge with you. I have an appointment nearby and can meet you, say, an hour before kick-off – you are well able to get the bus there on your own, I presume.’
‘That’s fine,’ replied Eoin. ‘Will we meet you outside the library?’
‘Perfect,’ said Mr Finn. ‘I’ll see you there at six o’clock.’
There were more congratulations for Eoin and his pals after dinner that night, when Mr McCaffrey called down to their table.
‘I’m pleased that you have done so well in this competition,’ he told them. ‘And I have received several phone calls from past pupils passing on their well wishes. I was worried they might object to the College playing association football, but all the calls have been very positive.
‘I will ask the games master to organise a coach for the boys who want to go and support you, and of course the mini-bus will be at your disposal for the team,’ he told them before pausing. ‘I may even be in attendance myself,’ he said with a smile.
Once he had left the boys stared at each other in astonishment.
‘Well he’s changed his tune, hasn’t he?’ said Alan, with a wide grin.
Eoin invited Charlie along to the Bohs game on Friday evening, so the four pals got the bus together just outside the school. They arrived in Ballsbridge almost two hours before kick-off, so they decided to hang around the public park to kill time.
‘We should have brought a ball,’ moaned Dylan, ‘I’d love a kick-about.’
‘And then they’d have confiscated it on the way into the ground,’ pointed out Eoin.
As they sat on a bench in Herbert Park deciding what to do, Liam Whelan suddenly appeared in front of them. The Busby Babe looked worried.
‘Lads,’ he said, ‘we got a message this morning saying there was trouble brewing back in Dublin. We were sent here – Phil is off having a scout around too. Keep your eyes peeled,’ he said, before disappearing again.
The boys were a bit rattled by Liam’s brief visit and set off towards the exit. They came across a small pavilion selling tea and sandwiches, and as they were feeling thirsty bought some soft drinks and sat down at the tables outside. Alan gave Eoin a dig in the ribs.
‘Don’t look now,’ he started, ‘but that guy who said he owned Ballsbridge Rangers is sitting behind you. He’s talking to two men who look like footballers – they’re wearing Ballsbridge training jackets.’
Eoin nodded and slumped back in his seat, signalling to his pals to keep silent as he attempted to listen in on the conversation going on behind him.
The tall man, Gerry Flanagan, was doing most of the talking.
‘…and it’s important to make it look like an accident,’ Eoin heard him say. ‘We don’t want to have any blame come back to us at all.’
‘Right,’ said one of the men. ‘But why do you want us to do it?’
Flanagan sighed. ‘Because if Bohs get twenty-five million for Joyce they’ll have so much money to spend on players – and improving their ground – that they will dominate our league for years to come. United say they will come and play them in a friendly every year too, which will bring in hundreds of thousands more.’
‘OK,’ said the other man. ‘And what’s in it for us?’
The tall man reached into his inside pocket and took four envelopes out, which he split into two small piles. ‘As a down payment, there are five hundred euro in each of these two envelopes,’ he said, patting the first pile. ‘If you do your job and the transfer is cancelled, this will be for you,’ he added, pointing at the other two envelopes. ‘There’s five thousand each in them.’
The footballers nodded. ‘So we have to go in hard and break something – I suppose an ankle or shin would be the best?’
Flanagan agreed, and checked his watch.
‘We better head over to the RDS now. And I can’t stress enough that this must remain between us and no one else. If a word of it gets out I’ll deny any knowledge – and you will be looking for a new club.’
Chapter 39
The trio left, leaving Eoin to recount their conversation to his stunned pals.
‘That’s shocking behaviour,’ said Charlie. ‘We have to try to report him.’
‘Who to, though?’ wondered Alan. ‘A Garda would just laugh at us if we told him what we heard.’
‘How about Alfie,’ suggested Eoin. ‘If we could find him he might know who to talk to.’
‘Good idea,’ said Dylan. ‘I’d say he’ll be in with the main group of Bohs fans. Let’s head over and see if we can spot him on the way in.’
As they walked through the park towards the ground, Eoin thought about what they would say to Mr Finn. He would surely find the plot hard to believe, and maybe try to persuade them to keep out of it for fear of bringing trouble – or worse – on themselves.
They walked past a man reading a newspaper – the back page headline read ‘Joyce transfer latest – Barcelona will bid.’
Eoin thought of the young man whose whole life would be transformed by such a move, or any big move – not to mention his family and his football club. He also thought of Phil Handy and how an injury ended his chances of a professional career just as he was on the brink of fame and fortune. He had to act – and act fast.
‘Alan, can you keep Mr Finn occupied for a few minutes, I’m going to see if I can find someone.’
Eoin took off at speed towards the back entrance of the park, raced up some narrow streets before arriving at a busy main road. He crossed at the traffic lights and climbed the steps into a grey stone building.
‘Can I speak to Detective Sweeney please?’ he asked the garda at the desk, who frowned and picked up the phone. ‘What’s it in connection with?’ he asked Eoin.
‘An assault,’ he replied.
‘When did this happen?’ asked the garda, still waiting for the phone to be answered.
‘It hasn’t happened yet,’ replied Eoin.
The garda’s face darkened – ‘Are you wasting my…’ he started, but luckily for Eoin a voice came on the line.
‘…Oh hello, Detective Sweeney, there’s a young fella at the desk here wants to talk to you about an assault.’
Eoin waited on a bench until the officer arrived.
‘Hello there, Eoin,’ she said with a smile. ‘What adventures are you up to now?’
Eoin had first met Detective Sweeney when he foiled the theft of the Rugby World Cup trophy a couple of years before. She had led the garda unit that retrieved the cup with Eoin’s help.
He explained what he had heard, pleading with her to prevent the evil plot.
She asked him to wait in the reception area while she went to make a couple of calls and returned five minutes later with another garda.
‘Right, hop in,’ she told Eoin as a squad car pulled up outside. ‘We’ll need you to show us who’s who at the stadium.’
They sped off, siren blaring, towards the ground. ‘I love that noise,’ the detective told him. ‘It makes me feel like I’m in a TV cop show.’
Eoin grinned back and watched as other cars slowed to let them pass, and the crowd of supporters parted as they neared the stadium.
‘We’ll go in the back gate,’ said the driver, ‘I’ve radioed ahead.’
The car pulled up alongside the old grandstand at the arena, which was built to watch show-jumping and had been converted into Leinster Rugby’s home ground.
As Detective Sweeney made a phone call, Eoin spotted his pals with Mr Finn – and they were talking to Alfie.
‘Excuse me, can I get out please,’ he asked the driver.
‘Hang on a minute, son, I’ll have to check with the detective,’ he replied.
Eoin tried to wave through the window as his pals neared the car, but they couldn’t see him.
‘Are you alright, Eoin,’ asked Detective Sweeney when she finished her call. ‘Who is that you’re waving at?’
‘My pals, and a Bohs supporter,’ he replied, as they disappeared from view into the back of the grandstand.
‘Well you’ll catch up with them shortly,’ she said. ‘I’ve been instructed to hold off any action until the serious crime squad get back to me – they have had their eye on Gerry Flanagan for a while. We’ve been told not to approach the club until the half-time interval.’
‘Half-time?’ gasped Eoin. ‘But it could be too late by then! We need to tell Seb and the manager.’
Chapter 40
Detective Sweeney shrugged. ‘I’m afraid they are my orders.’ She requested Eoin to go over the whole conversation in Herbert Park once again, asking him questions about the men and what they looked like.
She checked her watch. ‘This match is starting in five minutes. Do you want to join your friends and meet me back here in half an hour?’
Eoin nodded and checked his ticket, pointing out to her where he would be seated in case they needed him earlier.
As he walked to his seat the players were out on the pitch warming up – but he couldn’t see any sign of Seb Joyce.
‘Eoin, Eoin,’ called out Alan, waving at him as he neared where his friends were sitting.
Eoin found his way along the row and joined them.
‘I saw you talking to Alfie,’ he said. ‘I was in the Garda car.’
He explained what had happened since he last saw them. ‘But they can’t do anything until half-time,’ he added with a frustrated sigh.
‘Well then,’ replied Mr Finn, ‘it’s just as well that the boys found that Alfie chap.’
‘Yeah,’ said Alan with a wide grin. ‘We told him about the plot and he said he’d talk to the Bohs manager. Alfie was able to talk his way in and suggest they keep Seb on the bench to buy a bit of time. The Bohs boss was a bit nervous about missing his star player, but he was so horrified by the plan that he knew it was the best thing to do.’
Eoin relaxed. ‘That was a great idea,’ he said. ‘I just hope they don’t need him.’
As the teams lined up, Eoin spotted the two Ballsbridge players who had met Flanagan in the Park tea-rooms. He noticed that one of them was looking from player to player around the Bohs team, obviously confused by the absence of Joyce.
When the stadium announcer called out the teams, there was more confusion among the spectators, especially when the star player was named as one of the substitutes. Eoin noticed the two Rangers players had looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. He felt angry at their casual reaction, that they could treat a plan to hurt another player so lightly.
The stadium was packed when the referee blew the whistle for the game to commence.
Perhaps Bohemians were rattled by their late change of personnel, but they seemed to find it hard to settle. Ballsbridge, in contrast, seemed to get a bit more pep from the knowledge that the Bohs star man was absent.
The result was that Rangers were soon dominating the game and only some stout defending stopped them taking an early lead. But that was all undone by a slip in midfield which gave a Ballsbridge attacker an opening. He charged through, saw the goalkeeper coming out to him, and deftly chipped it over his head. The crowd held their breath as the ball bounced slowly across the goalmouth … and trickled over the line to give the home side the lead.
‘Come on Bohs,’ roared Alan, ‘you can do it.’
But there was no doubt they were missing Seb Joyce and they rarely looked like equalising.
‘Bring on Seb!’ roared a spectator sitting nearby. ‘We’re useless without him!’
That led to a few mutters of agreement among the fans, but Charlie told Dylan that he wished they would be more patient.
Eoin looked at the stadium clock and stood up. ‘I have to go guys,’ he told them. ‘Hopefully, I’ll be able to do my bit for the Gypsies too.’
Down behind the grandstand Detective Sweeney was waiting with a group of fifteen uniformed Gardaí.
‘Ah, Eoin, great to see you – I was just about to send someone to get you,’ she said. ‘We’ve got the approval to detain the three men you saw in the park, so I’ll need you to follow us inside.’
She explained the plan to Eoin and the rest of the force. They left four men outside guarding the exit and made their way towards the dressing rooms.
Eoin checked the clock on his mobile – it was two minutes before half-time.
The group split up, with four officers walking up the stairway towards the directors’ box. The rest made for the home dressing room.
Detective Sweeney told the steward stationed outside to open the locked door and once inside they waited at the back of the room. The detective asked Eoin to wait in the showers.
A minute or so later Eoin heard the whistle blow for half-time and the Ballsbridge Rangers’ supporters cheer their side off the field.
Within seconds he heard the distinctive sound of football studs clicking across the cement floor as the teams made their way down the corridor.
Chapter 41
Eoin peered out from the door of the shower area as the dressing room door opened.
‘You should have taken that corner…’ started a Ballsbridge player before he stopped dead, realising there were half a dozen Gardaí in the room.
‘What’s this?’ asked the Rangers captain staring round the room. ‘And who’s the kid in the Bohs scarf?’
Detective Sweeney stepped forward. ‘Please, we need all the players in here now,’ she told them. Eoin spotted one of the men who was in on the deal was starting to inch backwards towards the doorway so he tugged the sleeve of one of the Gardaí and pointed out what was happening.
‘You!’ the Garda called out. ‘Stay where you are,’ as he moved across and took the man by the arm.
Sweeney looked at Eoin who nodded at the player, whose name was Lally.
‘Right,’ she announced, once all the players were in the dressing room and the doors closed.
‘I apologise for detaining you like this, but it will be only for a few minutes,’ she explained. ‘We have become aware of a plot involving three members of Ballsbridge Rangers to stymie a transfer involving your opponents and an unnamed foreign club. We need to investigate this as a matter of urgency – which is why we are here at this moment.’
The door opened and two policemen led in Gerry Flanagan, who was loudly complaining.
‘How dare you interfere with our club during an important fixture,’ he shouted at the detective. ‘I’ll have you know that the Minister for Justice is an old school friend of mine…’
The detective held up a sheet of paper. ‘This is a search warrant, which permits me to search this room and the persons of you and two of your players. Guards, please remove everything from the pockets of Mr Flanagan – and from the kitbags of these two players…’ She waited while Eoin pointed out the other plotter, Molamphy the full back.
The rest of the Ballsbridge players were stunned, but no one spoke in support of them.
Flanagan erupted once more, but two guards held his arms while Detective Sweeney searched his pockets. It didn’t take her long to find two thick brown envelopes.
‘That’s the gate takings for today,’ Flanagan whined. ‘One of the security staff gave them to me just after kick-off.’
‘We have had you watched by plain-clothes gardaí for more than an hour before that, and no one handed you anything,’ she countered. ‘But don’t worry, we will check these for fingerprints,’ she added, before moving on to the two players.
‘Mr Lally and Mr Molamphy,’ she began. ‘We have been made aware that you have accepted a sum of money in return for breaking the leg of one of the opposition players today, namely Sebastian Joyce.’
The policemen opened each of the men’s kitbags and rummaged around inside. They found Lally’s envelope tucked inside his shoe and Molamphy’s hidden inside a water bottle.
‘It looks like you have something to hide there gentlemen. But we will have to discuss it further down at the Garda Station in Donnybrook. Please accompany me, we have nice separate cars for each of you.’
