Gerry
02-03-2008, 07:07 PM
It was the fist time I had ever been picked to represent my primary school at any sport. I went to my Dad's old school and I always heard of his sporting heroics during his school days.
Come the day of the big game I got up early and rushed down to eat my breakfast and there sitting on the kitchen table were a pair of football boots. Brand new football boots with white stripes down the side and really long laces. They had the studs moulded in one piece. They must have cost a fortune I thought. I tried them on and they fitted me perfectly. Well they did when I wore three pair of socks. Mammy just smiled as I ran around and around in the garden with them on. But I could run really fast now.
Oh I was the happiest boy in the world that day as to walked to school with my new boots tied together and hung around my neck for everyone to see. I can't remember what the teacher said that day in class. I was already scoring goals on the Gaelic pitch from every corner of the field, well in my head I was.
As soon as the school bell rang at the end of the day I was out of there like a greyhound from the traps darting past everyone in my path as I sprinted down the winding walkway through the trees. I met the big boys from our school team at the front gate and once we were all there we made a bee line for the Celtic Park.
The old tin huts we used for dressing rooms had no lights and the front door was jammed open as the hinges were busted. One of the big boys said it was like that so when changing we could see what we were doing. The changing rooms had a strange smell. They smelt like my Granny's bedroom when her joints were giving her bother in the winter.
Brother Doyle arrived and emptied a bag of shirts onto the concrete floor. They were wet and smelly too. But they were our school shirts so we couldn't wait to get them on. We ran down to the pitch and were all playing into one goal with three balls when the Long Tower Boys arrived. The enemy. They had dry shirts and shorts and socks to match. Big girls Marky muttered as we all laughed.
They run to the far nets and their teacher came over to chat to Brother Doyle. Then it happened. Brother Doyle walked straight towards me and said they were two men so I had to play for them to make the sides even. ME! Why me? I dare not ask. You did as you were told with the Brothers.
I felt like digging a hole and jumping in as I slowly walked past my team and into the lions den. Their teacher told me to pull of my shirt and threw me a big thick warm jersey different to all the rest. Your in nets, he barked. As I walked past them not one sad a word. I was the enemy and they didn't trust me. Nets! I never play in nets.
The match got started and it wasn't long before a high ball was dropping into my goal mouth. It must have been my new boots fault as I jumped high above everyone else. Even the big boys to grab the ball and as I went to kick that heavy leather tubine it changed into a beach ball and it flew right up the field were one of the Long Tower boys seized it and soloed right into their box before scoring a brilliant goal.
The look on Brother Doyle's face didn't look very Christian. Brother was I getting the evil eye. Well the rest of the game it just kept on happening. I definitely blame the boots. I never put a foot out of place and the Long Tower thumped my school.
Then I had to go back into my schools changing room to get changed. God that changing room was a cold place. There wasn't a word spoken. That is until Brother Doyle arrived. If there had been hinges on that door he would have ripped them off.
You won man of the match today son he told me through gritted teeth. Imagine in my very first game for the school, Man of the Match.
I was never picked to play for my school EVER after that day.
By Gerry Temple
Copyright February 2008
Come the day of the big game I got up early and rushed down to eat my breakfast and there sitting on the kitchen table were a pair of football boots. Brand new football boots with white stripes down the side and really long laces. They had the studs moulded in one piece. They must have cost a fortune I thought. I tried them on and they fitted me perfectly. Well they did when I wore three pair of socks. Mammy just smiled as I ran around and around in the garden with them on. But I could run really fast now.
Oh I was the happiest boy in the world that day as to walked to school with my new boots tied together and hung around my neck for everyone to see. I can't remember what the teacher said that day in class. I was already scoring goals on the Gaelic pitch from every corner of the field, well in my head I was.
As soon as the school bell rang at the end of the day I was out of there like a greyhound from the traps darting past everyone in my path as I sprinted down the winding walkway through the trees. I met the big boys from our school team at the front gate and once we were all there we made a bee line for the Celtic Park.
The old tin huts we used for dressing rooms had no lights and the front door was jammed open as the hinges were busted. One of the big boys said it was like that so when changing we could see what we were doing. The changing rooms had a strange smell. They smelt like my Granny's bedroom when her joints were giving her bother in the winter.
Brother Doyle arrived and emptied a bag of shirts onto the concrete floor. They were wet and smelly too. But they were our school shirts so we couldn't wait to get them on. We ran down to the pitch and were all playing into one goal with three balls when the Long Tower Boys arrived. The enemy. They had dry shirts and shorts and socks to match. Big girls Marky muttered as we all laughed.
They run to the far nets and their teacher came over to chat to Brother Doyle. Then it happened. Brother Doyle walked straight towards me and said they were two men so I had to play for them to make the sides even. ME! Why me? I dare not ask. You did as you were told with the Brothers.
I felt like digging a hole and jumping in as I slowly walked past my team and into the lions den. Their teacher told me to pull of my shirt and threw me a big thick warm jersey different to all the rest. Your in nets, he barked. As I walked past them not one sad a word. I was the enemy and they didn't trust me. Nets! I never play in nets.
The match got started and it wasn't long before a high ball was dropping into my goal mouth. It must have been my new boots fault as I jumped high above everyone else. Even the big boys to grab the ball and as I went to kick that heavy leather tubine it changed into a beach ball and it flew right up the field were one of the Long Tower boys seized it and soloed right into their box before scoring a brilliant goal.
The look on Brother Doyle's face didn't look very Christian. Brother was I getting the evil eye. Well the rest of the game it just kept on happening. I definitely blame the boots. I never put a foot out of place and the Long Tower thumped my school.
Then I had to go back into my schools changing room to get changed. God that changing room was a cold place. There wasn't a word spoken. That is until Brother Doyle arrived. If there had been hinges on that door he would have ripped them off.
You won man of the match today son he told me through gritted teeth. Imagine in my very first game for the school, Man of the Match.
I was never picked to play for my school EVER after that day.
By Gerry Temple
Copyright February 2008