Tiger Boots (2 page)

O
n the way home from school, Splinter reiterated his question about the school holidays.

‘A whole week off, lads,’ he said. ‘What are we going to get up to?’

‘Not much, I reckon,’ answered Todd.

Splinter looked to Danny for a better answer.

Danny just shrugged his shoulders.

‘I’m going to a Halloween party in Uncle Larry’s next Saturday.’

‘No way!’ said Splinter. ‘Can I come too?’

‘I suppose Larry wouldn’t mind. I’ll clear it with Jonathon at training on Tuesday night.’

‘Nice one, Danny. We had a savage time the last time we were there.’

‘You’ll have to dress up,’ warned Danny. ‘It’s a fancy dress party.’

‘No problem, Danny,’ said Splinter, and then he turned to Todd, who had been very quiet.

‘Are you coming, Todd?’ asked Splinter.

Todd was busy texting on his mobile phone.

‘Todd!’

‘Sorry, mate! Wasn’t listening. I was just texting my old mate from my footy club back home.’

‘What’s his name?’ asked Splinter.

Todd pressed the send button and slipped his phone back into his pocket. ‘Wayne.’

‘Are you coming to Larry’s Halloween party next Saturday?’ Splinter asked for the second time.

‘I don’t think so, mate,’ Todd said.

‘Go on, Todd,’ urged Splinter. ‘Danny! Can Todd come too?’

‘The more the merrier,’ answered Danny. ‘You might as well, Todd. It’ll be savage.’

‘Go on then,’ Todd said, as they turned onto Danny and Splinter’s road. ‘But I’m not wearing a stupid costume.’

‘We’re going into town tomorrow. Do you
want to come along?’ Danny asked Todd.

‘Nah! I’ve got to go somewhere with my mum,’ answered Todd. ‘I’ll see yiz at training on Tuesday.’

Todd gave Danny and Splinter a thumbs up, then he headed off home, leaving his two pals in heavy debate as to what costume they would wear to Larry’s party.

Danny had Mick’s dinner ready for him when Mick arrived home from work. Danny was no cook, but he had been to the chipper and had Mick’s favourite in the microwave – a large smoked cod, and chips with curry sauce on the side.

Mick was thrilled. He had been attending a meeting after work and was starving when he arrived home.

‘You’re a diamond, Danny son,’ Mick told him as he tucked into his dinner.

‘No worries, Da. I raided the emergency fund. Is that okay?’

‘Sure that’s what it’s there for, Danny,’ answered Mick.

Danny could see that Mick looked weary.

‘Is everything alright, Da?’

Mick had to chew quickly on a mouthful of batter before he could answer Danny’s question. Then he kind of shrugged.

That said a lot to Danny. Something was wrong.

‘What’s up?’ Danny asked.

‘Ah, it’s just work, Danny,’ answered Mick. ‘There’s a lot of bad vibes at the moment. You know how it is with this recession.’

‘Yeah,’ Danny agreed, but he knew his father well and was certain that he was keeping something from him.

He persisted a little more.

‘Are you sure that’s all?’ Danny asked softly.

A tear crept out from Mick’s left eye and fell down his cheek, before he could rub it away without Danny noticing.

‘I’m okay, son,’ said Mick, but his voice trembled.

Danny was really worried now; he moved to the chair beside Mick’s and put his arm around
him.

Mick turned and smiled, but it was a brave smile – a father’s smile. The type of smile that tried its best to protect and say, ‘It’s all right son. I’m the dad and no matter what, you mean everything to me. You’re my life and I’m going to look after you.’

‘It’s okay, Da,’ Danny soothed.

Mick took a huge gulp of air and grasped Danny’s right hand.

‘I’m fine now, Danny,’ Mick said. ‘I just had a bit of bad news today. You know my old pal, Archie Reagan, who emigrated to Boston years ago?’ asked Mick.

Danny nodded. He knew well whom Mick was talking about. Archie was Mick’s best pal, in fact he was his best man at his wedding, and Mick always kept in touch with him after he left Ireland, so Danny felt that, although he was only a baby when Archie left, he kind of knew him well, too.

Mick continued. ‘You know then that myself and Archie were very close and still are, even
though we haven’t seen each other in ten years.’

Danny nodded again. He was nervous about what was so bad that it had upset his father so much.

‘Is he dead?’ Danny blurted out.

Mick smiled, but it was an uncomfortable smile. ‘No son. He’s not dead. Sorry, son, I’m finding this a bit difficult.’

‘It’s alright, Da,’ said Danny. ‘What is it?’

Mick went on to tell Danny that Archie’s youngest daughter, Clara, was very ill. She had been diagnosed with cancer in her right arm. Archie had rang Mick earlier that day and was devastated on the phone. This had really upset Mick and had left him a little shaken.

‘Is she going to be alright, Da?’ Danny asked.

‘I think so, son,’ Mick said. ‘She has to have a big operation soon. I think she’ll be fine after that.’

Mick explained to Danny that the GAA club that Archie was involved with in Boston – Boston Blues – was going to have a big fund
raising day in November to help fund Clara’s operation.

‘That’s animal, Da,’ said Danny. ‘You can’t beat the GAA. Isn’t that right?’

‘That’s right, son.’ Mick smiled. ‘We’re a family, and we look after each other. Don’t ever forget that, son. Did I mention that Clara plays for their girls’ under-fourteen’s team?’

‘No way!’ said Danny.

Mick nodded. ‘According to Archie, she’s captain of the team, and a good player, Danny.’

Danny brought Mick’s empty dishes over to the kitchen sink, and then turned back around to Mick.

‘She has to get that operation, Da,’ said Danny.

‘I know, son,’ Mick said.

‘We can help. We could do some fund raising here for her. After all, we’re all one big family in the GAA. You said it yourself.’

Mick was proud of Danny’s suggestion, and went straight to work with Danny on ideas of how they and the team were going to help
Clara.

B
y the time Tuesday night’s training came along, Danny and Mick had all their plans worked out to raise funds for Clara.

As Jimmy was setting up some cones for sprints, Mick called all of his players into a circle.

He had already discussed everything with Jimmy and had his full support.

‘Before we get started lads, I want to fill yiz all in on some news and I want all your help.’

All of Mick’s players listened carefully.

Jimmy joined the group and nodded to Mick as if to say, In your own time coach!

‘Right,’ Mick started. ‘Um! Well! I suppose to make a long story short, um …’

Danny could sense that his dad was
struggling a bit. It wasn’t like Mick to struggle when speaking to his own players.

Danny wanted to jump in and help his dad like he had done on more than one occasion for Jimmy when Mick wasn’t present, but he didn’t. He knew his dad would pull it together in front of his players.

Suddenly Mick found courage.

‘Look, lads, what I have to ask of yiz is very important to me. A friend of mine’s daughter – she’s about your age – is ill and she needs a big operation.’

That was the hard part out of the way, and the rest flowed with ease as Mick told his players all about Clara and how she was a GAA player just like them and he wanted his team to rally together to raise funds.

‘So, everyone’s up for a night of bag packing at Tesco on Thursday night instead of training?’ asked Mick.

Mick got a great response. Everyone expressed great enthusiasm to help out.

‘Good lads,’ added Jimmy. ‘Right. Will we do 
a spot of training, Mick?’

Mick gave Jimmy the thumbs up, but then as Jimmy was calling everyone over to the cones he had a change of plan.

‘I think we’ll give the sprints a miss tonight Jimmy,’ suggested Mick. ‘Why don’t we have a bit of fun.’

‘Nice one, Coach,’ cheered Paddy Timmons, Crokes right full back. ‘Are you taking us down to the Fun Fair? It opened last night.’

Mick laughed. Fair play to ya’ Paddy, ya’ chancer! he thought.

‘I was thinking more along the lines of a game of frozen ball,’ Mick said.

Danny jumped on the spot and punched the air.

‘Savage!’

Jonathon didn’t share his cousin’s enthusiasm. He remembered the last time they played frozen ball in training and Mick wasn’t present. Danny had convinced Jimmy that it would be a good idea to kick the ball at the frozen players instead of fisting it. 

Jonathon could almost still feel the burning sensation in his left ear from Danny’s lethal hook around Big Johnner Purcell’s head as Danny picked out Jonathon for teasing him.

‘Can we kick instead of fisting?’ pleaded Danny.

‘No!’ answered Mick and Jimmy together. Jimmy had confessed all to Mick.

The two coaches laughed.

Jimmy re-arranged the cones and set up a playing area about half the size of a basketball court. He had made a square using the cones.

The object of frozen ball was that all players start the game with three lives.

The coach – Jimmy in this instance – would randomly pick a player by calling his name out. He would then throw the ball up in the air. The player named would run to catch the ball while the others scattered. The named player then, after catching the ball, would call out ‘Freeze’. All the other players would then stand still.

The named player would then fist the ball in the direction of the player nearest to him, and 
if hit, that player would lose a life.

The player who had just lost a life would then continue the game from the centre of the playing area, and so on.

Mick added his own little twist to the game – a forfeit!

The first player to lose his three lives would have to do a forfeit, chosen by the player who had fisted the last ball at him. All within reason of course, but the last time they played frozen ball Splinter had made Paddy Timmons dance like a ballerina, all the way around the outside of the park – twice!

Jimmy threw the ball in the air and called out the first name – Barry Sweeney. The game had begun, and everyone scattered.

After about half an hour, about half the players were on their last life – Todd included.

Danny had just lost his second life, and when he called out, ‘Freeze!’ Todd Bailey was the nearest player to him.

Danny grinned at Todd – a real cheeky grin, as he fisted the ball long and hard, bouncing it 
off Todd’s left shoulder.

Danny knew exactly what Todd’s forfeit would be; everyone burst out laughing as he announced it.

‘No way, mate,’ said Todd. ‘Rack off! I’m not going to your uncle’s Halloween party dressed like that!’

Mick and Jimmy piled on the pressure.

‘You have to do the forfeit, Todd,’ said Mick. ‘Isn’t that right, Jimmy?’

‘That’s right, Mick,’ Jimmy said, trying his best to hold a serious face. ‘Honour,’ added Jimmy. ‘A fine attribute of GAA.’

Everyone gave Todd a fair bit of stick for a few minutes until they all forgot about it as soon as Jimmy set up two goals for a short friendly match. But Danny, Splinter and Jonathon were all determined to remind Todd of his forfeit before Larry’s party at Halloween!

T
he rain was hammering down on the roof of Tesco on Thursday night, but it didn’t stop the shop from being jam-packed. It was the busiest night for shopping, and Mick knew that. He also knew that Jimmy’s wife, Ann, was assistant floor manager and that she wouldn’t hesitate to support them, even at such short notice.

At every till there was a Crokes’ player with a bucket that Jimmy had supplied them with. Jimmy worked in a hardware warehouse and his boss was only too glad to give him the new buckets, after he explained to him what they were for.

Danny and Jonathon were bag packing together, with Todd on one side and Splinter and little John Watson on the other.

Mick and Jimmy were centred between the tills with a bucket each.

Todd had his head down, packing away, when the old lady whose bags he was packing, put her hand on his arm.

Todd looked up. He hadn’t noticed that the woman was his next-door neighbour on Clifford Road.

‘Aw, hi, Mrs. Duff. I didn’t notice ya there.’

‘I hear you’re going back to Australia,’ announced the old woman. Her hearing was partially impaired so she had a tendency to speak very loudly.

Everyone on every till heard her.

Todd looked straight to Danny, who by now was looking over at Mick and Jimmy, thinking, Is she for real?

Todd went red.

‘I’m going to miss yiz terrible,’ said the old woman. ‘Yiz were lovely neighbours.’

‘Thanks,’ said Todd, who looked mortified; this wasn’t the way he’d wanted to break the news. 

The old woman bid him farewell, and went out of the shop leaving nothing but total devastation behind.

Danny thought his dad and Jimmy would have shot straight over to quiz Todd on this revelation, but they didn’t. This information had come out unexpectedly and Mick knew how embarrassed Todd was.

But Mick wasn’t a teenager like Splinter.

‘Is that true Todd?’ asked Splinter, his jaw almost on the floor.

Todd nodded.

‘When?’ asked Danny.

‘Next week,’ said Todd.

‘Next week,’ repeated Danny. ‘When were you going to tell us?’

The tension was building between the boys.

‘You better get in there, Mick,’ Jimmy advised.

Mick casually made his way over to Todd’s till.

‘Leave it, Danny,’ warned Mick. ‘This isn’t the time nor the place.’ 

‘Sorry Danny, mate,’ said Todd. ‘We only decided last night. Mum was going into school tomorrow, and I was gonna tell everyone then.’

‘That’s okay, Todd,’ Mick said, but deep down, he was gutted.

‘Why are you leaving, Todd?’ asked Jonathon.

‘Yeah! Do ya not like it here?’ asked Splinter.

‘Shut up, Splinter,’ said Danny.

Todd gave Danny a smile that seemed to say, Thanks, mate.

Just as Todd was about to explain everything, Mick noticed Sarah – Todd’s mother – waving at him from the tinned beans and peas aisle.

She was calling him over.

‘Back in a second, lads,’ said Mick.

‘Hi, Mick,’ Sarah greeted him. She had seen Mrs Duff talking to Todd a few minutes earlier, and knew that the old woman must have said something.

‘Hi, Sarah,’ Mick said. ‘Doing a bit of shopping?’ Mick was very fond of Sarah and always got a little boyish around her.

‘Oh, yeah,’ Sarah said back. ‘Um, Mick. Did Todd mention our news to you?’

‘What news?’ asked Mick playfully. ‘Would that be the news that the old biddy just announced to the whole shop?’ Mick laughed.

Sarah blushed.

‘Sorry, Mick. We were going to tell everyone tomorrow.’

Mick could see that Sarah was embarrassed. He patted her on the arm.

‘It’s fine, Sarah. When are yiz off?’ He was trying to be as brave as he could. Deep down he dreaded the thought of Sarah returning to Australia.

‘Saturday week, the seventh of November, I think.’

‘Jaysis! That wasn’t much notice,’ said Mick with a smile.

‘Sorry, Mick.’

‘Oh! God, no. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, it’s all a bit sudden like. Not that that matters. I mean it does matter, of course. We’ll miss yiz, of course.’ 

Sarah raised her eyebrows.

‘Really?’

Now Mick was embarrassed.

‘Yeah! Of course. I mean, Todd’s a great player. The team will be lost without him.’

‘Do you remember helping me on this aisle, the time I knocked over all the tins?’ asked Sarah.

‘I do.’

Sarah put her hand on Mick’s shoulder.

‘Thanks, Mick. You and Danny and everyone at the club have been very kind to Todd and me. We’ll really miss you all.’

Mick could feel a lump in his throat.

‘Yiz don’t have to go,’ he said.

‘Todd’s been missing home and I suppose I have too.’

Suddenly, a loud cheer erupted from the tills.

‘I think you might be needed over there,’ Sarah said. She could see Jimmy trying to call order.

Mick gave Sarah a friendly wink, and wished her luck, then joined the others. 

It didn’t take Danny very long to get over the shock of Todd’s news and remember the reason for their bag-packing.

Tommy Dempsey – father of Sean ‘Dirty’ Dempsey, the player that Mick had kicked off his team last year – had infuriated Danny by refusing to put a donation into the bucket after Danny had packed his shopping.

‘I wouldn’t be caught dead putting money into Littlestown Crokes,’ Dempsey protested. He hadn’t even bothered to take the time to look at the ‘Help Clara Fund’ label that Danny and Mick had stuck to the buckets.

Danny was very upset.

‘It’s not for the club,’ said Danny, holding up his bucket, almost to Dempsey’s face.

Tommy Dempsey rolled his eyes at the label, and then lowered his face in shame.

He then took out all of his money from his pocket – a twenty-euro note and a twenty-cent coin. Dempsey put the twenty-cent coin in the 
bucket.

Danny was raging, but he had to be thankful for every donation.

‘Thanks,’ Danny said.

Tommy could feel the contempt coming towards him from everyone around. He looked down at the twenty-euro note in his hand.

‘I’ll tell you what, Wilde,’ Dempsey said. ‘If you finish ahead of us in the league, I’ll give you this twenty euro for your collection.’

Danny’s hand lunged forward. ‘You’re on.’

Tommy Dempsey didn’t shake Danny’s hand. He just nodded, grabbed his shopping and hurried off as he noticed Mick Wilde coming his way.