The Legends (27 page)

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Authors: Robert E. Connolly

BOOK: The Legends
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Ultimately another first year student, a taller boy who had also spoken to Harry at the first year orientation, joined Brian. Now this boy appeared to have few doubts about his own ability but from experience, Harry knew that could go either way. The newcomer seemed to have become acquainted with young Brian earlier but about the only thing that could be said about their association was that the taller boy was quite condescending toward Brian. Another first year student ultimately joined the pair and it was quickly apparent that the third boy needed work, a lot of work.

After his initial observations, Harry was paying very little attention to the three newcomers and looked around to see whether there were any surprises among the remainder of the squad. Like the three first year students, players in the other groups made short passes to each other and practiced juggling the ball with their feet, a skill which few had mastered. He recognized most of the boys and was pleased to see that his two strong defenders, John Thornton and Jimmie Rice, and his best striker, Billy Hagerty, all seniors, returned to the squad. What brought his attention back to the three youngsters was that suddenly all the remaining groups fell silent, stopped their drills and stood staring at the three first year players, or more precisely, at young Brian.

For some reason that was not immediately apparent, Brian was juggling the soccer ball with incredible skill using his feet, head, neck, shoulders, chest and even heels. In all his years of studying soccer, Harry had never seen a display of control to rival Brian’s performance, and that would include seasoned professionals and trick artists. After about thirty seconds, or perhaps it was much longer, young Brian stopped the show, announced to the taller boy that his name was “Brian” and not “my small friend” and prepared to carry on like nothing unusual had happened. It was quickly clear that the purpose of the exercise was to end the condescension and in that Brian was most assuredly successful. In addition he had attracted the attention of several other players. Obviously impressed, some of them came over to have a word.

“Hey kid,” big John Thornton asked, “where did you learn to do that?”

The young fellow replied quietly, almost in embarrassment, “Just messing around. It really isn’t anything special because I don’t have much use for it on the pitch.”

“Still, pretty impressive for a first year,” the older student conceded.

Whatever about the practical usefulness of these tricks, Harry concluded that anyone who possessed such remarkable ball skills could probably play the game and hopefully lead St. Killians to glory, or at least a couple of wins. Blowing his whistle Coach Mac announced the beginning of the practice.

Harry’s suspicions about the boy’s ability were ultimately born out as the practice progressed. Throughout the stretching exercises, general warm up and drills, Brian listened carefully to Harry’s instructions and executed to perfection. In the past Harry occasionally had difficulty with some players who messed around during what they decided were the boring parts of the practice. He had no such problems with his young superstar even though the drills were probably boring for a player of his skill. What was even more surprising to Harry was that the other players, even those who had played for several years, were watching Brian, concentrating on the drills, and attempting to duplicate his skills. The result was a coach’s dream; a practice session that was crisp, orderly and effective, just as the coaches’ clinics insisted they should be.

As was his custom, each practice session ended with a full-field scrimmage and for the first time, Harry got some indication of what the presence of Brian O’Sullivan might mean to the team.

Most of the older players established themselves at various positions so Harry simple instructed them to take red vests and then he assigned them to their accustomed spots. The red vests were what he would have expected to be his starting eleven, based on prior years’ experience, while those that remained were either newcomers or the prior years’ substitutes. When the red team gathered around their keeper Harry assessed the remaining fifteen players and starting with Brian, asked whether each player had a position he preferred. Brian responded without hesitation, “mid-field.” The response surprised Harry because most skilled young players fancied themselves strikers since there was more glory in scoring goals. The taller first year student with the long blonde hair quickly stepped forward and volunteered for that position.

When everyone was assigned a position and the second team donned their yellow vests, Harry gathered everyone in the middle of the pitch. He announced that since this was the first scrimmage he was interested in seeing players moving to open positions and making short, crisp passes, not dribbling, shooting or even scoring. When he blew the whistle signaling the beginning of the scrimmage, most of the players promptly forgot his instructions. The older players tried to establish their superiority by dribbling around the less experienced yellow team. Most of the yellow team seemed more interested in kicking the ball down the field as quickly as possible regardless of the presence of an intended target.

Although he was tempted to blow the whistle and start over, Harry decided to allow the scrimmage to continue so the players would realize how futile their efforts were. Here we go again, he mumbled to himself and then remembering his potential savior, he looked to the middle of the pitch locating Brian. To his amazement, the young man was standing at midfield looking around as if he was trying to figure out what the game was all about. Oh, great, Harry thought, he is even more lost that the rest.

“That’s enough,” he decided putting the whistle to his lips, but then the ball made its way to Brian’s feet. Instead of kicking it away, the young man controlled the ball deftly stepping around any attempt by the red team to dispossess him. He didn’t attempt to progress the ball, but his control was such that he might as well have been holding the ball under his arm.

Brian’s head, however, was up looking at his teammates. He pointed his finger at an open spot to his right instructing one youngster to move while he told another to find an opening on the other side. The youngster on the right did exactly what he was told and Brian rolled him a pass while Brian moved into the spot vacated by the red player who had run back to challenge the ball. The recipient of the pass prepared to give the ball its customary kick down field when Brian yelled “Back.” The boy dutifully froze in his tracks and rolled the ball back where Brian again took possession. Once again Brian effortlessly controlled the ball until he was able to instruct another player to move into an open spot.

Harry watched in amazement as the yellow team put together six or eight passes in a row. They didn’t progress very far but the players quickly got the idea that they should move into an open spot and once they received the ball they should look to pass it back to Brian who would inevitably have moved to open area. Brian would shout “back,” “left,” or “right” to identify his position so that the receiving player could concentrate on the pass.

Frequently the player making the pass would not even look to see if Brian was where he asked for the pass but trusting the confident instruction, delivered the ball back Brian. On occasion, a yellow-vested player made an errant pass and possession was turned over to the red team. Since the reds were still more interested in demonstrating their moves, Brian simply darted in and took the ball back. In time other yellow players began to move into open positions copying Brian’s moves and soon passes were being made without Brian’s total intervention.

The play got ragged at times, especially when the red team members, frustrated with their lack of possession, began to aggressively tackle yellow ball handlers. But, eventually the red team recognized the effectiveness of the yellow team’s tactics and began employing them as well. As a result, it was not always so easy for Brian to retrieve possession after it was lost. Remarkably, even though little effort was made to progress the ball toward the goal, both teams were working hard and players appeared to take great satisfaction from moving to an open position or making a good pass.

Harry stood back, arms folded, his whistle hanging unused from his neck. This young man Brian, in a few short minutes, had accomplished what he had tried to teach for twenty years. Although their ball control skills frequently let them down, both red and yellow sides actually resembled a team.

While Brian was no longer involved in every pass, he was unquestionably in charge, controlling play on the yellow side and merely by his presence in the vicinity, intimidating players on the red side. At one point, he took possession and indicated that the boy with the long hair, Chad, should make a run up the right touch line. The boy followed the instruction without hesitation and Brian sent a perfect pass between two defenders. Chad caught up with the ball and sent a wild shot in the general direction of the goal, but that lesson was not lost on either team.

As the practice moved toward its conclusion, the ball was smoothly moving up and down the field and a few reasonable shots were actually taken. With a general lack of ball control and a number of longer passes that were a bit optimistic, much of the play was still ragged but when he finally blew the whistle to end the scrimmage, Harry was more encouraged than he ever thought possible.

Harry gathered the players on the middle of the pitch and congratulated them on an excellent practice. “Well done lads,” he concluded. “For a first practice the movement and passing were excellent. If we can improve on our ball control and shooting, we could have a great deal of fun this year.”

The players hooted in triumph and headed for the touchline. As Harry watched, attempting to restrain the broad smile that threatened to break out on his face, lads from both sides were introducing themselves and patting each other on the backs. Particular deference was reserved for young Brian and everyone seemed to have a word for a person who had apparently become their young leader. John Thornton, a senior who was not only tall but strongly built took a particular interest in young Brian and chatted amiably as they left the pitch together.

Harry was still shaking his head in amazement as he dialed Nigel’s number. “Nige, Harry here. Where in God’s green earth did you find that boy?”

On the other end of the line Nigel laughed, “So you have seen young Brian in action.”

“Yes,” Harry replied. “Incredible, absolutely incredible. His skills, his control, his passing, his leadership on the pitch…my wildest dreams come true.”

Nigel replied, “Yes, I thought you might like him. Years ago, when he was very young I saw him messing around with a hurley and ball and it was clear to me that he was an incredibly gifted athlete. I wasn’t sure whether he knew anything about soccer so I invited him to kick the ball around. After that we worked out together for a time but his skills were so natural that all he really needed was to understand the nature of the game. As you can see, that also came rather easily.”

Harry agreed, “But he also listens carefully and follows instructions. Why he probably knows more about actually playing the game than I do and it is apparent that there is not much I can teach him. My guess is that he could probably take over any game and score at will.”

“But he won’t,” Nigel said quickly. “Don’t sell yourself short Har. This boy is special and he is talented but he is far more interested in being a part of a team than seeking personal glory. If he was interested in personal glory he could probably run track because he is faster than any kid I ever saw, but that is not our Brian. Being part of a team is something you can help him with. Sure he could score at will, and your school would win the cup, but if you tell him to do that, you will lose him. My advice is to work with him but let him lead from the middle. You know Roy Keane is his favorite player, so let him be a Roy Keane.”

“Thanks Nige,” Harry replied. “I appreciate your advice almost as much as I appreciate your sending me the young man. Roy Keane, huh. You know that boy can be far better than Roy Keane ever dreamed of being… in fact he might be already.”

Excerpt from the Local Newspaper

Drogheda News:
In a shock start to the schools’ soccer season perennial group bottom dwellers St. Killians Community College began the season with a convincing 5-2 victory over last year’s beaten finalists St. Josephs High School of Dunleer. St. Killians’ goals came from five different players, Bill Hagerty, Jim Rice, Tom Mulvey, Paul White and Mike Fitzgerald but the man of the match had to be first year student, midfielder Brian O’Sullivan. Young O’Sullivan played with the poise of a seasoned professional controlling the play and distributing pinpoint passes to his teammates.

When interviewed after the game, Coach Harry McElhatton complimented his young star, “Unquestionably Brian is an important part of our team, a piece of the puzzle that we have been missing for the past several years. He also brings a certain level of confidence to our more experienced players who realize that with Brian, ball service will be there. I think that confidence is reflected in some good finishes by five different players. I know I am certainly looking forward to seeing how far this team can progress.”

Tom Crotty and Terry Finnegan were on target for the Dunleer School.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Pamela Byrne had been teaching history and geography at St. Killians High School for nearly twenty-five years. She had entertained opportunities to move to other schools, both private and public, but the rural environment of County Louth suited her. Unlike her counterparts in the big city schools, traffic was seldom a problem and it never took more than thirty minutes to drive from her home on Dublin’s north side. In addition, Miss Byrne was now teaching the second generation in many families so there was also a familiarity with the parents of current students, which also made life easier.

Finally, teaching on the banks of the Boyne, in what was effectively the cradle of Irish Civilization, was a history teacher’s dream. Teaching history in an urban environment seemed somehow very theoretical but when you could look out the window and see where the ancient Celts lived, or where King Billy fought King James, history came alive. She hoped that her enthusiasm and passion for her chosen discipline made it easier for her students to learn.

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