Rugby Flyer (8 page)

T
he Leinster team had a good run out the next day against Bath, winning 19-10. There were players and coaches from all the Irish provinces at the Stoop and they were delighted that all four now had started the tournament with a victory.

Eoin and his pals had sat out the game, and most of the other teams were adopting a similar policy. ‘I suppose they’ll pick the best players from the two Leinster teams if we get to the semi-final,’ said Charlie.

‘You’re probably right,’ said Eoin. ‘They can’t really do it any other way. I doubt if I’ll be picked after calling Ted “rubbish” though.’

The coach took Eoin’s team for a run around the Stoop and a chat about tactics. As they were leaving he tossed a ball to Eoin. ‘You’ll need some serious practice here to get the lines right. Nicholson, Reeves, can you stay and collect the balls for him?’

Killian and Páidí didn’t mind helping out, and Eoin fired over dozens of kicks before the teams for the next game started their warm-ups and he had to get out of the way. He was happy that Ted had suggested the session, as there was a definite tug on the ball from one corner of the ground and he needed to adjust his kicking line.

The boys strolled back up to the main Twickenham Stadium, where they met Dylan. The others wanted to go back to the school so made their farewells, but Eoin and Dylan went for a sandwich in one of the cafés around the ground.

They chatted about the places where they were staying, and who they had met. Dylan had got very friendly with the Connacht boys, who were the most popular in the school they were billeted. Then their conversation moved back to the ghost Eoin had met.

‘Tell me about this Hopalongski fella,’ Dylan asked.

‘Obolensky,’ said Eoin, slowly. ‘He’s a Russian lad, I think, which was why he was down in Tipperary. He said the house belonged to his Uncle Nick.’

Dylan nodded at Eoin, still stunned by what he was hearing.

‘He must be some sort of rugby legend though because the restaurant we were in yesterday is called
Obolensky’s,’ Eoin went on. ‘I didn’t get a chance to ask him about that, though.’

‘I suppose we could find out more in the museum,’ suggested Dylan.

‘Yeah, I reckoned that. We’ll head there after this,’ said Eoin. ‘He asked me something about a treasure as well. He seemed a bit annoyed because he thought that I was looking for it too, but I hadn’t a clue what he was on about. If it was in the Lubov mansion it was probably stolen years ago – or very well hidden.’

The boys finished their lunch and walked around to the World Rugby Museum. They flashed their tournament player badges and were delighted to be waved through free of charge. Eoin walked straight to the display he had been looking at the day before.

‘That’s him,’ he told Dylan as he pointed to the video screen showing Alex scoring a try. They watched as he collected the ball ten metres inside his own half and cut between two All Blacks. Alex then ran wide onto the right hand touch-line to avoid the covering players, but he was so quick that he was able to cut back inside again and sprint to score close to the posts. It was a sensational try, and Eoin could see why they were still talking about it eighty years later.

A second try by the Russian winger was just as thrilling,
as he cut diagonally across the field to score a second time against the powerful New Zealanders. The score flashed up as ‘England 13, New Zealand 0’, and the screen then revealed it was the first time the home team had ever beaten the All Blacks, and the last time they would do so at the ground for nearly fifty years.

They read the captions on the display which showed an England cap and photos of the player.

‘He was a prince,’ gushed Dylan. ‘Wow, he must have some serious treasure.’

Eoin read further. ‘Well, he was a
Russian
prince, and that didn’t mean very much in the 1930s. Do you ever listen in History class?’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Dylan.

‘Well, the ruler of Russia, the Tsar, was thrown off the throne in 1917 and he was later killed with his whole family. There haven’t been any princes, or royals of any sort, in Russia since then.’

‘So what was Alex doing playing rugby for England then?’

‘I don’t know, but a lot of people fled Russia when the revolutionaries took over. Alex was only a year old then, so I presume his family took him to England.’

Dylan read on. ‘He was killed during the Second World War,’ it says here. ‘He was a pilot in the Royal
Air Force.’

‘What an amazing life he had,’ mused Eoin, ‘and he was just twenty-four when he passed away.’

‘So where are we going to find him?’ asked Dylan.

‘I’m sure he’ll turn up when you expect him least,’ came a voice from behind them.

The boys turned to see, grinning down at them, the ghost of Prince Alexander Sergeyevich Obolensky.

E
oin checked left and right to make sure no one else was around in that part of the museum.

‘Don’t worry, you two are the only ones who can see me, it seems,’ said Alex.

‘I’m not worried about people seeing you,’ said Eoin, ‘I’m worried about people thinking I’m talking to empty air. Can we go somewhere else, like the grandstand?’

Eoin and Dylan followed the ghost as he walked out of the museum and made his way into the lower deck of the stand. They sat down on the plastic seats far away from any watching eyes and the staff going about their business.

Alex sat and smiled at them. ‘Listen, I’m sorry that I was a bit snappy with you yesterday. I was a little bit rattled that you had seen me in Tipperary.’

‘Me too,’ admitted Eoin. ‘It seemed very weird to see
you yesterday in a completely different country. What were you doing in Ireland anyway?’

‘Well, I was visiting my Uncle Nick’s house for the first time in many, many years. I was very sad to see what a bad state it was in. He didn’t have any family left, I think, so there was nobody to take it over and move in. I had some great holidays in Ireland. I remember joining a club to play a game called “gaelic”, which was a bit like rugby. I had great fun there. I used to play with a lad called Barney whose father was the groundsman.’

Eoin looked at Dylan and did some sums in his head. ‘The groundsman in that club is still called Barney – it must be his father or grandfather that you knew.’

‘Hmmm, that’s interesting,’ said Alex. ‘Our family suffered enormous upheaval and tragedy in the last century at the cutting edge of history, while some people continued doing the same simple things through many generations. They were the lucky ones.’

He looked sad again, but went on with his story.

‘Uncle Nick left Russia after the revolution – Nick wasn’t his real name and he wasn’t really my uncle, either. But he needed to find a new identity and my mum’s uncle, Nikolai Lubov, had been killed in the war. The new “Uncle Nick” moved to Ireland to get out of
the way and my family stayed in London. We visited him most summers until I was about ten.’

‘Did you write your name on the wall in the bedroom?’ asked Dylan.

Alex smiled. ‘I suppose I must have. Did you see it there?’

Dylan nodded.

‘Ah, they were such wonderful days.’

‘How did you get into rugby?’ asked Eoin.

Alex explained about how he enjoyed sport back at school in England and as a speedy runner he was always put on the right wing. He became quite good at rugby and while he was a student at Oxford University he was picked to play for England.

‘I was still a teenager, can you believe that?’ he asked. ‘And some people grumbled that I shouldn’t be picked as I wasn’t English. But I could hardly play for Russia by then, could I? I got a British passport a few weeks later so that silenced all that.’

‘We saw the films of your tries,’ said Eoin. ‘They were really amazing.’

‘Yes, I was quite the star for a few weeks,’ he laughed. ‘But I never scored another try for England. I was dropped the next season and never got the chance to get back in the team.’

‘And then the war came,’ said Eoin. ‘Did you join up immediately?’

‘I did,’ nodded Alex. ‘I was a proud Englishman by then. I joined the RAF because I had done some flying, and it was the most exciting and glamorous branch of the armed services. Planes then were very different to the big white machines I see flying over here – they were so fragile. It was terrifying to be flying in what was basically a crate made from light wood and cloth.

‘I hoped to be sent to France to fight the Germans, but I never saw any action. I was killed in a terrible accident when we were still on a training course.’

Eoin nodded respectfully, before asking Alex when he had come back as a ghost.

‘It was a good while later, after the war. I suppose the game against the All Blacks was the highpoint of what I did in my short life, so Twickenham was where I returned,’ went on Alex. ‘The ground has changed a lot over the years, but I still get a thrill walking onto the turf where I scored those tries. And then they built that museum and put the newsreel in it, and people started talking about me again. I do feel at home here.’

‘But why did you go back to Tipp then?’ asked Dylan.

‘Ah, well that, my friend, is a story for another day. A day when your coach is not about to call you away to
a training session. I’ll see you during the week,’ he said before quickly disappearing.

‘Madden!’ called Ted from the side of the pitch, ‘come on, we’ve a meeting down the Stoop in ten minutes – and I don’t want to see you mixing with the enemy either,’ he added, pointing at Dylan’s red shirt.

E
oin trotted alongside Ted through the streets of suburban London. ‘Nice place this,’ said Ted.

‘Yeah,’ agreed Eoin. ‘It must be great to have a stadium like that so near your house.’

‘Well, I’d say there’s ups and downs to it,’ laughed Ted. ‘I’d say traffic is a nightmare on match days for example – you could be stuck in your home for hours.’

The coach slowed his pace to a brisk walk. ‘So you disagree with my approach to this competition?’ he said.

Eoin blushed, but decided to be upfront with the coach.

‘Well, I suppose I do,’ he replied. ‘I don’t think it’s possible for competitive young lads like most of us to play less hard just because you say it’s not important to win. And the lads who are just along for the ride will see it as a chance to take it easy.’

‘Fair point,’ said Ted. ‘But maybe that was part of the
plan. Maybe I wanted to see who would take me at my word and who would continue to push themselves as hard as they could to win the trophy. Then I’d know who was worth persevering with – this is a long-term project, remember.’

They arrived at the Stoop. ‘You are the first young lad I’ve ever heard articulate what it is like to have that competitive spirit in rugby,’ went on Ted. ‘I’m impressed, and I forgive you for thinking my plan was “rubbish”. I think it’s rubbish myself to be honest – but you’re not to say that to your teammates,’ he winked at Eoin.

Eoin’s team were waiting for him when he arrived with Ted. The coach asked them did they know anything about Racing 92, and a few knew they wore skyblue hooped shirts, and a few others that Johnny Sexton used to play for them.

Ted admitted he didn’t know much more about their Under-15 team, but that he expected them to play a fast game with plenty of flair in the backs. He talked about how Leinster might counter this, and suggested that keeping possession was going to be important.

The team went through several drills for the next hour or so before Ted called training to a halt and told them to be in the car park in twenty minutes. That was a signal to the boys that there was a team outing and,
sure enough, the bus was there to take them to a nearby cinema where they watched the latest blockbuster.

Or rather, where
some
of them watched the latest blockbuster. When the hero had finally saved the day and the house lights came back on, Eoin was just one of more than a dozen members of the Leinster squad who were fast asleep.

He slept some more on the way back to their quarters, and soon hit the pillow again when he found his bed.

All this sleep helped recharge his batteries and calm his brain, which had been overloaded by the meetings with Alex. So Eoin felt very refreshed and relaxed when he awoke early next morning. He was the first up in his dormitory and quietly slipped on his trainers to go out for a jog.

It was already warm out, and Eoin knew it would be a hot day from the way the dew was rising as steam in the morning sun. He decided not to take a long run, saving his energy for what could be a sapping day. The game was down to be played at noon, and he expected it to be scorching by then.

He sat down on the bench outside the cricket pavilion again, and thought of home. He wondered had Dixie ever had the chance to play rugby in Twickenham, or even London. Of course he would certainly have done
if his life hadn’t been changed by that terrible accident.

He thought of Alex too, and how his biggest moment as a sportsman had occurred in his teens, and how war robbed him of the chance to recapture that moment.

Eoin reflected how lucky he was to live in a time of relative peace, and how he had opportunities to travel to play sport that hadn’t been available to previous generations. He stood up and stretched his arms wide.

‘We’re in it to win it, Ted,’ he said to himself. ‘No doubts at all.’

E
oin got his way, too. His teammates had no doubts either and everyone put all they had into winning the game. Despite the hard pitch and the hot sun favouring the French boys, Leinster overwhelmed them in the scrums and line-outs, and Eoin’s goal-kicking was perfect.

‘Seven kicks out of seven – that’s nearly 100 per cent, isn’t it?’ asked Charlie as he walked off the field with his arm draped over Eoin’s shoulder.

‘It
is
100 per cent, you sap,’ laughed Eoin.

‘That was a brilliant win, wasn’t it?’ smiled Charlie. ‘Everything just clicked.’

Ted said the same thing when he talked to them back in the changing room. Leinster had run in four tries and hadn’t conceded even one, and were now top of their group table with two wins.

‘Just to be clear,’ Ted added, ‘the other guys will be
playing the first half against Cardiff tomorrow, and this group will replace them at half-time. Cardiff will probably do the same thing, so look at it as two separate half-hour games – and if we win on aggregate we’ll be in the semis.’

But it didn’t appear quite that simple twenty-four hours later. The other Leinster side had been well beaten in their mini-game, and Eoin’s group had a ten-point deficit to haul back.

‘Sorry, lads,’ shrugged John Young, out-half on the first-half team, in the dressing room at half-time. ‘I must have left my kicking boots at home.’

Eoin nodded sympathetically to John. He liked the Newtown player, even though they would be competing for the same place in the team if they got to the semi-finals.

‘Good luck, Maddser,’ he replied, ‘you’re the 100 per cent man.’

Eoin smiled, but knew it wasn’t just the missed kicks that had cost Leinster – the Welsh pack was well on top too.

Ted and the forwards coach were giving some lastminute
advice to the Leinster pack so Eoin slipped into the shower room for some peace. Standing in the corner was Alex.

‘Your team are up against it, I see. Those Welsh lads are tough nuts to crack. But their back line is inclined to press too far forward at the set pieces – you could find a bit of room in behind them with a well-placed chip,’ he suggested.

‘Thanks for the tip,’ replied Eoin. ‘But what has you down here in the Stoop?’

‘Ah, I’ll explain it later, but I’m on the hunt for some old Russian treasure and I felt a strong tug towards the ground here. But it’s probably nothing… I hear your coach calling you all together – good luck today,’ he added, as Eoin dashed out of the showers.

Ted was giving a few suggestions to the team, trying to keep it simple. As the players streamed outside, he tapped Eoin on the shoulder and guided him out of the line.

‘Listen, Eoin,’ he hissed. ‘We can win this, I’m convinced of it. Don’t try and win it in the next ten minutes – if you don’t rush things we will get the points on the board all in good time.’

But the half started badly for Leinster when one of their props conceded a penalty at the first scrum and the
Cardiff No.10 slotted over the kick. Eoin had a word with Páidí while the kick was being taken, sharing the plan Alex had suggested.

At the next scrum Leinster won the ball and the little scrum-half controlled it while Eoin signalled his intentions to Killian and the centres. Páidí made a move to pass inside and his dummy fooled the Welsh covering players; he quickly switched direction and sped the ball out to Eoin. The out-half had already picked his spot and chipped the ball over the Cardiff back line, who were left struggling to change direction. Eoin chased hard and reached the ball before the Welsh full-back, but went down under his tackle. As he fell he was delighted to see the Leinster backs had followed through at speed and he was able to toss the ball into Killian’s hands.

The St Osgur’s boy did the rest, and Eoin picked himself up to kick the conversion to make the score 13-7.

Cardiff were rattled by the try, and their coach’s screaming at them rattled them even more. Eoin was enjoying himself by now, and he dropped a goal the next time Leinster got within sight of the posts. The Welsh boys hit back with a penalty, and with five minutes left there was still a six-point margin to make up for Leinster.

Eoin noticed the Cardiff full-back was arguing with
the players nearest him, and when he launched a huge garryowen towards the goalposts the distracted No.15 dropped the ball, giving Leinster a great position for a scrum. The second-half Welsh pack wasn’t as strong as the first-half team and Leinster started driving forwards. Charlie controlled the ball between his feet and kept urging his pack on. At the last second Páidí slipped in and seized the ball, and snaked backwards before darting down to slam the ball onto the try-line.

The Leinster forwards erupted in delight. They knew that their hard work had paid off with a five-pointer, and under the posts too. Eoin ensured the work wasn’t wasted as he fired the conversion over.

The Welsh team flailed around trying to recapture the lead, but Eoin’s backs were well-organised and disciplined enough to ensure they never broke through and the final whistle brought even more delight for the team in blue.