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Chapter 18

Tyrone

When Bushy, Stewy and Declan got back, it seemed Brendan had let the cat out of the bag and told the other guys where they had gone. Declan could see them in the lobby of the hotel giggling to themselves as the boys walked in. David locked eyes with Bushy and strode up to them with a gleeful smile from ear-to-ear.

‘He’s gonna try to wind you up, Bush,’ Declan said. ‘Don’t take it to heart.’

‘I don’t care what he says,’ Bushy replied. ‘I won. Wilbur is a champion.’

As David stood in front of them, Declan expected him to start poking fun at Bushy or trying to grab the rabbit. Instead, David just politely said, ‘Can I please see your bunny?’

‘Wh-what?’ Bushy stammered. This was the first time David had spoken to him without making fun of him.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you had a rabbit?’ David said, sounding genuinely hurt. ‘Rabbits are literally my favourite animal. My first pet, Buttons, was a little white rabbit.’

‘So is he,’ Bushy said as he popped the lid off the box. Wilbur poked his head out and started sniffing the air.

‘He looks just like him!’ David said excitedly, as he automatically went to pick him up.

‘Hey!’ Bushy yelled. ‘Don’t drop him!’

‘I would never hurt him,’ David said, keeping eye contact with the rabbit. ‘He’s an angel.’

By this point, all the other boys had run up to check out little Wilbur. Big Mike gave them a wave. ‘Hey, lads. How did you get on at the –?’ Big Mike stopped talking as soon as he saw Bushy’s trophy. ‘Oh my god! You won?’

‘Of course he did!’ David snapped. It was strange hearing David defending Bushy so passionately. ‘How could he lose with this little guy? Best rabbit I ever saw … apart from Buttons.’

The lads had been excited at the chance to see a rabbit, but now they were even more enthusiastic because Bushy had actually won. They bombarded him with so many questions that it was impossible to answer them all.

‘Where’s a good pet store to buy one?’

‘What do you feed it?’

‘Can dogs enter?’

‘How often are these pet shows?’

‘How do you prepare them to win prizes?’

The boys’ conversation was interrupted by a familiar screech. ‘HALT!’ they heard from the reception area. As the gang turned around, they saw Ms O’Gorman striding towards them. She marched right up to Bushy and gave him a devastating glare. ‘Are you telling me you sneaked a pet into my hotel without telling me?’

Bushy gawped at her, trying to get his bearings. ‘I – I didn’t realise pets weren’t allowed.’

‘They aren’t,’ Ms O’Gorman said. But as she glanced down at Wilbur, all the intense energy inside her seemed to vanish. ‘But I make an exception for rabbits. I mean, look at this little fella. He’s adorable!’

Bushy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was taken aback already by David being nice about Wilbur, but he’d never expected the hotel manager would react this way. ‘D-do you want to hold him?’

Ms O’Gorman’s face lit up. ‘Can I?’

‘Yeah, just be careful. He had a long day at the pet show.’

Ms O’Gorman gently lifted him into her arms and stroked him slowly. ‘And I heard you won as well,’ she said, like she was talking to a baby. ‘Of course you won, you little munchkin!’

Declan and Stewy gave each other a funny look. Ms O’Gorman was acting so affectionate, it was like they were looking at a different person. Based on their earlier run-in with her, they never would have pictured Ms O’Gorman acting this way.

‘He looks so fluffy,’ Big Mike said. ‘Can I touch hi–?’

Ms O’Gorman held up a firm hand. ‘I’m petting him,’ she said sternly.

‘One at a time, guys!’ Bushy said, trying to take control of the situation. ‘You’ll all have a chance to pet him.’

Not only did the whole experience boost Bushy’s confidence, but it also helped them to stay positive for what was coming: playing against Tyrone.

* * *

The following morning, they had an early breakfast and then packed up all their stuff before getting on the bus. This was going to be their last day at the hotel, regardless of the result. They were either going to be heading to Croke Park or their journey would be finished. The semi-final was going to push them to the limit. When the bus pulled out, the boys could see Ms O’Gorman waving goodbye.

As they drove to the pitch, Declan felt like his mind should be focused on the match. Yet he couldn’t help thinking about home. Even though they were having a great time at the tournament, he was feeling homesick. It wasn’t easy playing matches almost every day.

At the same time, he knew he should devote all his attention to this match. It wasn’t fair to the other players to be unfocused. He had to appreciate the opportunity Brendan had given him. Brendan was tough but he was always fair. He’d got angry after the first night, but that was justified. He was generous, giving them time each day to spend in Salthill. He’d even lent one or two of the lads a few euro when they overspent.

What Brendan didn’t know was that the team had decided to chip in and buy him a leather wallet. Whether they won or lost against Tyrone, they thought after the match would be a good time to give it to him. They’d also bought a tie for the bus driver, Paddy. Bushy had used his winnings to buy the tie himself.

When the boys arrived, they got set up in the dressing room. When Brendan came in his hands were clenched and there was a serious look on his face. Billy was out for this one. He still hadn’t recovered from food poisoning. It was clear that the pressure was on. ‘Right, lads, there isn’t that much opportunity to play in Croke Park at your age, and there are many, many fine footballers who never get to play in Croke Park at all. That should be enough motivation. I want you to go out there and give everything you’ve got. Tyrone won their last match by six points and they’re now favourites for the competition.’

Bushy, Stewy and the rest naturally assumed Brendan was getting stressed because they were getting closer and closer to the final. But Declan thought it was something deeper than that. Since only one of the thirty-two teams could win, perhaps Brendan hadn’t expected they’d make it this far. If they lost, it wouldn’t be a surprise. After all, only one team could win the All-Ireland. But now they were in the semi-final, Brendan was thinking it was very possible they could win. Nobody had expected much out of them.

But then again, they were about to play the team expected to win. Being positive wasn’t going to be enough to beat them. They couldn’t underestimate Tyrone for a second.

As soon as the game began, they got a good start. Stewy blazed down the wing and fired the ball over the bar, earning the first point. Brian Bohan caught the next kick-out and ran through from midfield to score a point himself. Declan could hear the roars of the crowd urging them on.

But this Tyrone team were favourites to win for a reason, and they soon got into their stride. Their centre-forward was clearly their secret weapon. Despite his bulky size, he was lightning fast. He was winning lots of ball around the middle, and while he wasn’t getting on the scoreboard himself, he was helping his teammates get points. After 20 minutes, Tyrone were winning 0–8 to 0–4, with their centre-forward having a hand in six of those points.

But just as the half-time whistle was about to be blown, Declan managed to intercept a hand-pass from their wing-back. He was already sprinting at full tilt when he caught the ball. With that momentum, he managed to evade their full-back. Just before their keeper came to smother him, he popped the ball out to the inrushing David Jenkins, who slotted the ball into an empty net.

Immediately after that, the referee blew his whistle. Tyrone were still ahead, but now Declan’s team had a lifeline. They were only a point behind, and the goal just before half-time gave them new hope.

During the break, there was no messing around. Brendan didn’t have to say much. They knew what they had to do. They were at a point where they had to give it their all – nothing else would be good enough.

Everyone to a man played much better in the second half and they slowly began to turn the tide against Tyrone. David Jenkins popped over a free kick, Declan swung over a point from play, and Jack Maher created a goal for Cathal Hayes with one of those diagonal balls.

With five minutes left, they were winning by two points. In most of their matches, they’d won with a last-minute point or goal. This time, they were already winning and they had to do everything in their power to keep the opposition at bay. If they scored a single goal, it was over. Knowing that victory was near, Tyrone gave it everything they had in those last few minutes.

Their centre-forward boomed over a point from way out, then caught the next kick-out and raced through the middle, popped it off to their corner-forward, who smashed his shot off the crossbar, knocking it back out. If it had been an inch lower, that goal would have spelled doom for Declan’s team.

They were exhausted and Tyrone seemed to be winning every kick-out and every fifty-fifty. Their wing-forward had a chance to level it but his shot went narrowly wide.

‘Time must be up, ref,’ Declan shouted desperately. He usually said nothing to the referee but there was so much riding on this match. A chance to play at Croke Park meant everything to him. The referee dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

As Tyrone lofted their next attack into the box, Bushy came out, managed to avoid the full-forward’s fierce attempt to jostle him and kicked the ball out to Jack Maher. Eager to get the ball up the field as quickly as possible, Jack hit a long pass up to the full-forward line. With that, they heard the referee’s whistle, confirming their victory. Instead of cheering and high-fiving each other, they fell to their knees in exhaustion, knowing that the next match would somehow be tougher.

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