Tiger Boots (7 page)

The Hammer craftily turned his back to Danny and shielded the ball from the Crokes’ 
captain.

Danny, who never pulled out of a challenge and gave everything to win every ball, crashed into the Hammer’s back side and was sent tumbling head first across the middle of the field.

‘Is he alright?’ gasped Jimmy.

Mick watched, worried, as Danny slowly picked himself up. He was a bit shaken, but not injured.

‘Watch this, Jimmy.’ Mick smiled with relief.

Danny shook himself off as he got to his feet, and nodded over toward the Hammer with a smile.

The Hammer had sent a good solid pass up field to his forward line, and then turned around to see if Danny was okay. Danny knew that Hammer Hughes wasn’t like Sean ‘Dirty’ Dempsey or Deco Savage. He had respect for his opponent no matter what the sport.

Danny gave the Hammer a thumbs up, then sprinted to help his defence keep the under sixteen’s from scoring yet again. 

Big Johnner Purcell was the first to show that he had taken on board every word that Danny had said when he threw himself, hands first, at a thundering shot from the under sixteen’s centre full forward to reflect the ball away from goal and into the path of Darren Ward, Crokes’ right halfback.

The Crokes’ number five heard Danny calling for the ball. Danny had found a free space between two of the under sixteen’s players. Darren Ward lobbed a lovely pass over the under sixteen’s number twelve, straight into Danny’s hands.

Danny turned sharply and went on a Danny solo.

Hammer Hughes lunged himself towards Danny, trying to knock Danny and the ball to the ground, but Danny clipped the ball over the Hammer’s head, and like lightning, he side-stepped to his left, leaving the Hammer to fall face first and skid along the grass.

The Hammer rolled over and sat bolt up. He looked like a soldier camouflaged from head to 
toe in mud.

Billy Stapleton laughed so loud that he could be heard from both ends of the pitch, but he swiftly shut up and turned his head away and began whistling as soon as he realised that the Hammer was staring over at him.

As Danny powered towards the goal, he seemed to pick up momentum.

‘Over here Danny!’ Doyler called. He had left his player and moved into the space between Splinter and Barry Sweeney.

Danny lobbed a perfect pass over Doyler’s marker, the under sixteen’s centre halfback.

Doyler caught the ball, then took one quick look at goal and had a shot.

Doyler’s shot fell short, and Barry Sweeney charged in to win the ball against the under sixteen’s goalkeeper and full back. The goalkeeper bravely lunged himself at the ball, punching it away from goal.

The ball flew through the air towards Danny. Danny caught the ball and like Doyler, took one quick glance at goal.

Danny released the ball and hooked it around the chaos in front of the goalmouth, smashing it into the top right corner of the net.

‘GOAL!’ Jimmy screamed as he and Larry both danced around Mick.

Heffo saw all the excitement and wanted to join in so he spun around the training bag, barking like mad until eventually, there was no more lead. The team mascot decided that it would be more fun to resume chewing on the straps of the bag, and occasionally stopping to snarl at Billy.

Paddy Flynn clapped his hands in admiration and looked over towards Mick.

Mick put his hands in the air. He had a huge smile on his face. Paddy gave Mick the thumbs up. Although their teams were competing against each other, they were from the same club, and Paddy was pleased that Mick’s team would go away with some pride and experience from this friendly, to help them in their final game against local arch-rivals, Barnfield. 

Danny’s goal had lifted his side’s confidence, and straight from the kick out, Doyler won the ball and sent it over for a point.

That was the last score from Mick’s team, and the under sixteen’s picked themselves back up and went on to score another goal and two points, ending the game, 2-5 to 1-1.

Mick rallied around all his players, congratulating them for all their brave efforts.

Paddy Flynn made all of his players shake hands with Mick’s players, and then he gave the Crokes’ under fourteens a few words of praise and encouragement.

Mick had got it right. It was indeed a priceless game to help prepare them for the up coming showdown with Barnfield.

Danny made it his business to particularly give a few words of encouragement to the Hammer Hughes as both teams trotted back together to the dressing rooms.

Danny patted the Hammer on the back. ‘Good game.’

The Hammer pushed Danny and laughed, 
but he was just fooling about.

‘You’re a savage player.’ The Hammer gave him a smile. ‘Thanks for the work out. Ya ran rings around me.’

‘Thanks. Anytime!’

Both players laughed.

‘Are you going to stick with it?’ asked Danny as he approached his dressing room.

‘Yeah, I am,’ the Hammer said. ‘You’ll have to come down to the boxing club some time, and I’ll teach you a few moves.’

‘Are ya mad?’ Danny laughed. ‘And ruin this pretty face?’

Danny and the Hammer chatted for a few minutes and then the Hammer disappeared into his dressing room. Danny could still hear him laughing after the door was closed.

Who would have ever thought that Danny would tame the beast that everyone feared?

Give Danny Wilde a football and put him on a pitch, and he could do just about anything.

L
ater that night, Danny was e-mailing Clara when Mick came into the room with Danny’s phone.

‘Your phone is making a buzzing noise, Danny. I think it’s a text message.’

‘Thanks, Da,’ Danny said as he took his phone from Mick.

He glanced at the message.

‘It’s from Trinity.’

‘Oh, yeah?’ Mick smiled. ‘All’s going well, I see.’

‘She wants to know if I want to go to a film on Tuesday night. We’ll be training so I’ll see if she can make it another night instead. Is that alright, Da?’

Mick nodded.

‘No problem. Actually, Tuesday night will be fine. We won’t have any training. There’ll be enough practice at the football marathon in your school that day. But it is a school night so make sure you go to an early film, so you’re not out too late.’

‘Nice one, Da. Her mam will drop and collect us.’

Mick noticed that Danny was spending a lot of time on the computer; he had never shown much interest in the computer, except every now and then to do a project for school.

‘Is that school work?’ Mick asked.

‘Eh! No,’ Danny replied. ‘I’m just e-mailing Clara. You know like, about the match and that. She likes to hear that kind of stuff, Da.’

Mick’s smile stretched from ear to ear.

‘Really? Is that so, son? Do you have two girlfriends on the go?’

Danny pushed Mick away.

‘Snap out of it. Clara’s just a mate. A football mate.’ He laughed.

Mick left Danny in peace to continue his 
e-mail to Clara.

Danny wrote:

Just as Danny had finished the last line, Mick came back into the room.

‘I meant to tell you, Danny, I’ve got an interview on Tuesday at four thirty.’

Danny spun around on his chair.

‘Where?’

‘Mullins’ Builder Providers.’

‘Will you make it, Da?’ Danny was worried. ‘What about the sponsored marathon?’

‘I’ll be grand, Danny. If I have to leave a bit early, it’ll be okay. I’ll pop home and have a quick shower. Mullins’ isn’t that far away. By the way, how’s your sponsor card coming on. 
Is it full yet?’

‘Nearly, Da. There are only a few lines left. Granny’s coming around on Tuesday evening so I’ll get her to sponsor me before I go to the pictures with Trinity.’

Danny was worried about his father and the whole situation with his work. Mick had been in the same job for a good few years and there was never a problem with money. But Danny knew it wasn’t just about money where Mick was concerned. Just having a job meant a lot to Mick.

‘Do you think you’ll get the job?’ Danny asked.

Mick shrugged.

‘I’m not sure, son. Jimmy knows them down there and he recommended me, so fingers crossed.’

Danny turned back around and clicked to send his e-mail to Clara.

I hope Da gets that job! thought Danny.

M
ick and Danny left early for school on Tuesday morning. Jimmy was there, too. He had taken the day off to help Mick run the sponsored marathon.

Everybody turned up with their sports bags, and the atmosphere was buzzing if only because the marathon meant a whole day off from the usual boring school routine.

Mick followed Principal Dunstan into the staff room where he was introduced to all the teachers.

‘This is Mick Wilde,’ Mr Dunstan introduced him. ‘He’s going to be giving you all your instructions for the day.’

Mick was a bit embarrassed. The last time he
was in front of so many teachers was when he was a young boy.

‘How ya, everybody?’

He smiled, then looked back toward Principal Dunstan for some guidance.

‘We have all the boys in the main hall,’ Mr Dunstan went on. ‘What we’re going to do is separate them all into groups. The first and second years together – third years on their own and fifth and sixth years together.’

Principal Dunstan then looked at Mick.

‘Would you like to take it from there, Mick?’

Mick nodded.

‘Um, well, what we were thinking of doing was running mini leagues throughout the day. Like, for example, the first and second years will be one league and so on. I think that’s a fair way of doing it. That way we can keep the age levels close together.’

Everyone agreed. Some even managed to pull their lips away from their cups of tea to murmur in agreement.

‘Tell them the fun bit Mick,’ Mr Dunstan 
said.

‘Oh yeah!’ Mick chuckled nervously. ‘Um, well, I won’t be able to manage all of this on my own of course. I have a friend with me. Jimmy Murphy. He’s assistant coach of my own team, the Crokes. You might know his son Damien.’

There were a couple of eyebrows raised. Damien Murphy – AKA Splinter – had an unforgettable presence in the school.

Mick continued.

‘Anyway, we’ll need some help so that’s where you guys come in.’

Mr Breen put his hand up to ask Mick a question. Mick thought that was hilarious – a schoolteacher with his hand up.

‘I presume the boys have brought in their own gear. How will we distinguish them if we don’t have sets of jerseys?’

‘Thought of that one,’ Mick said. ‘We managed to gather a load of bibs – yellow, orange, red and blue ones. We’ll use them as jerseys.’ 

Mr Breen was impressed, as were the rest of the teachers.

Mick thanked everyone for their help and, in particular, he thanked Principal Dunstan, for suggesting the idea of the sponsored marathon to help Clara.

There were two GAA pitches in Danny’s school, which was a good thing as there were a lot of matches to get through.

Because there were so many classes to compete, it was agreed that the four third year classes would compete in a soccer league, over on the one and only soccer pitch at the far end of the school grounds, under the supervision of Mr Hooper.

That left year one and two, which together consisted of eight classes, to compete on the first GAA pitch, and year five and six, which, also consisted of eight classes to compete on the second GAA pitch.

It took Mick and Jimmy a whole hour to 
organise everyone, and get the matches going.

The first games started at ten. Each match lasted thirty minutes – fifteen minutes each way with a quick turn around between halves.

As there were eight teams in each league, Mick decided that it would be a knockout league, so that there would be four teams left after the first round of games. That meant that the four successful teams would go on to play in a semi-final after lunch, and then the final, which would be held around a quarter to three.

Mick had made up his mind that he wouldn’t be involved in Danny’s league. He thought that would be best for Danny. Danny’s teammates on the Crokes were used to the father and son thing, but Danny’s fellow school pupils weren’t.

The morning passed quickly without any problems. All the teachers fitted with ease into whatever role Mick and Jimmy gave to them. Of course not every pupil and teacher was familiar with all the rules, but that didn’t matter. It was a great day and everyone was pulling together for one cause – Clara.