Chasing a Rugby Dream, Book Two, page 19
‘That’s really thoughtful, Julie. Thanks.’
‘Yeah, thanks Julie, really thoughtful,’ said Jonny, filling his breakfast bowl with oats, yoghurt and a fruit compote. ‘I wish Jim had a cup final every Saturday!’
After a great breakfast, Jimmy did what he always did on a match day and called in to see his grandparents.
As usual, his grandmother had the kettle on as soon as she saw Jimmy’s head pop around the door and Jimmy went in and sat with his grandfather.
‘So how do you feel about not playing then, son?’ he asked.
‘It just feels a bit odd, Gramp, to be honest. I mean last year, I was in the middle of everything, but this year, I feel a bit left out. But I’ve got nobody to blame but myself. I sort of wish I’d played in the quarter- and semi-final now. Maybe that was a mistake, but I just didn’t feel ready. Perhaps I should have just gone for it.’
‘Mmmmm. Maybe,’ was the thoughtful reply. ‘But I’m a big believer in gut instinct, Jimmy, and if you didn’t feel it was right, well then it probably wasn’t. There’s nothing you can do about it now anyway. It is what it is.’
Jimmy smiled at his grandfather’s well-used catchphrase, he seemed to say it to sum up any tricky situation.
‘So, has your teacher given you any clue if she’ll definitely bring you on at some point?’
‘Not really. She said she’ll try to give us all a game, but Mrs John is really competitive and I know she’ll want to make sure we’re winning before she makes any changes. In fairness, Jordan – the boy who has taken my place – has been playing well all week. He’s normally a centre, but I’ve been really impressed by him in training. So good luck to him, I don’t really want to see him having a bad game, so we’ll just have to see what happens.’
‘You’re a good lad, Jimmy, I have to say that. And you know what I always say, ‘Good things happen to good people,’ so I expect it all to turn out well for you somehow.’
‘I hope so. Thanks, Gramp.’
‘Do you think Mark Kane will be there?’
‘Probably. He’ll no doubt be pleased that I’m not playing. But I’m past caring about him, to be honest, Gramp. He’s never going to rate me so it’s no use worrying about whether he’s going to pick me for the Eagles again or not.’
Then, glancing up at his grandfather, he said, ‘It is what it is.’
Will laughed, ‘Ha! You’re right about that, son.’
Jimmy spent the next hour or so with his grandparents, chatting about nothing in particular. He loved spending time with them, especially on a match day. He found it calmed him down. Although, today, because he was starting on the bench, Jimmy felt less on edge than normal, so he was able to relax and enjoy the morning with them.
As he was leaving to get all his kit prepared, his grandfather called him over.
‘Here we are, Jim,’ he said, reaching into a carrier bag he had at the side of his chair, and pulling out his usual pre-match treat for Jimmy: a trusty Mars Bar. ‘Just to keep you going.’
Jimmy smiled again, ‘Ta Gramp, I’ll eat it on the bus.’
‘Good lad, see you later. And remember: like my rope ladder training, you’ve done all you need to do regarding your tackling. When the opportunity comes, just make the most of it and give it your best. It’ll all work out for you.’
For the first time that morning, with the mention of tackling, Jimmy stiffened up a little bit. Maybe it was a good thing he was on the bench after all. As he walked back to his house, he tried to banish the negative thoughts from his mind, yet they still remained. But he resolved to do the best he could if and when the moment arrived and take it from there.
As he reached the front door, his iPhone buzzed. He looked at the screen – it was a message from Kevin.
‘Good luck today, Jimmy, you’ll be fine. You’re ready for this and you have the ability to deal with any tackle you may face. I’m certain of it. Don’t worry about anything, and if you get the chance, be like Fekitoa!’
Beneath the message was a YouTube link titled ‘Fekitoa’s big hit on Conrad Smith’. Jimmy tapped on it and a short, forty-four second film opened.
Jimmy knew who Malakai Fekitoa was, he’d read about him in Rugby World magazine, which he’d read every month in the local public library. He was a Tongan born former All Black centre who had given up playing for the All Blacks to play in Europe, because he wanted to earn enough money to provide for his family in New Zealand and Tonga. He’d read that Fekitoa’s dad had died when he was young and since then, he’d taken it upon himself to always support his mum and brothers and sisters. With the money he earned from rugby, he helped support his nieces and nephews too and in all, helped over thirty members of his family. Jimmy loved Fekitoa for that, he thought it was a brilliant thing to do. He’d seen plenty of Fekitoa on YouTube, playing for the Highlanders, Toulon and Wasps and scoring some incredible tries. He was a brilliantly powerful runner. Jimmy dreamed of having the power that Fekitoa had.
Jimmy watched as the video loaded. It was a game from Super Rugby – the Highlanders versus the Hurricanes.
The clip started as one of Fekitoa’s Highlander teammates kicked the ball deep down field. The ball went over the heads of the Hurricane defence, who had to turn, and their right winger collected the ball near his right touchline. He passed inside to Beauden Barrett who jogged forward, looking at the options in front of him. He didn’t have much on, so he just moved the ball along to his captain in the centre, Conrad Smith. Just as Smith caught the ball, he was absolutely smashed in the tackle by Fekitoa. The commentator screamed, ‘Oooooh, what a shot! Malakai Fekitoa just sat Conrad Smith right down!’
Jimmy was mesmerised. He watched the slow-motion replay and saw how far out Fekitoa had been when he made the decision to hit Smith. Barrett hadn’t seen him coming when he made the pass and Fekitoa hit Smith with just about the perfect rugby tackle, taking man and ball and winning the penalty straight after from the referee. Jimmy watched it again and again until the picture of the tackle was burnt into his mind. Then he read Kevin’s text again.
‘Be like Fekitoa.’
Well, Jimmy wasn’t from Tonga, he hadn’t played for the All Blacks and certainly didn’t possess thighs as big as tree trunks, but if he got on today, he vowed he would be like Fekitoa!
THE ROAD TO THE FINAL
Jimmy arrived at school to board the minibus that would take the squad to Underhill.
The first to greet him was Manu.
‘All right Jimmy boooooooyyy?’ he shouted at him and, as usual, tried to wrap him up in a smother tackle.
‘Get off me you maniac, save your tackles for the game!’
Manu laughed, ‘Don’t worry about that, I’m going to munch a few of them today. They’ll be sorry they ever took the field against Massive Manu from Central Primary,’ and with that, he dropped his back pack to the floor and flexed his biceps.
‘Not again!’ cried Kitty rolling her eyes. ‘You’re hardly the Rock.’
‘Yeah, more like the Pebble,’ said Ryan, who always managed to find the right quip to bring someone back down to earth.
Everybody burst out laughing, even Manu.
‘That’s what I like to see, laughing and smiling. A happy squad is a successful squad,’ said Mrs John as she walked past to open up the minibus.
‘Peter Clement said the very same to us before the final last year,’ said Kitty, rushing forward to be near her favourite teacher.
‘Well, great minds clearly think alike, don’t they? Come on, get on the bus you lot, it’s time to get this show on the road!’
They all got on the minibus, a picture of smiles and joy. The only one not smiling, Jimmy noticed, was Matt. He looked as if he had the world on his shoulders. As usual, he hadn’t said a single word to Jimmy and boarded the minibus without really speaking to anyone.
They arrived at the Underhill complex and those that hadn’t been there before were hugely impressed. Jimmy had forgotten just what a brilliant place it was. Because he’d been so unhappy there in the summer, he hadn’t really taken in what a great facility it was. As they walked from the car park to the main entrance, a man walked out from the building and turned left towards the entrance to the main playing area. It was Mark Kane.
He obviously heard all the voices from the Central players, who were chattering nineteen to the dozen with excitement, but blanked everyone completely and just carried on walking.
I hope that’s the last time I see him today, thought Jimmy.
Inside the changing room, the Central players were in seventh heaven. It was superb.
Unknown to them, Mrs John had sent Kevin ahead with the kit that morning and he’d laid it all out on the individual seats in number order, starting with one on the left, all the way up to include the replacements’ numbers. The kit looked so professional, laid out as it was, folded with the white number standing proud on the red and black colours of the brand new jerseys.
Despite the kit being brand new, when Mrs John had checked it the day before, she found that one of the replacement’s shirts was missing. She asked Jimmy if he wouldn’t mind wearing one of the old ones. ‘Can it be number 10, Miss?’ he asked hopefully. ‘I don’t see why not,’ she said, smiling.
In the middle of the room, on the treatment table, he’d laid out bottles of water for everyone and a selection of energy bars. As soon as he walked in there, Ryan bolted to the table and picked up about six energy bars. ‘I’m having these,’ he said stuffing them into his backpack.
‘Ryan, really?’ said Mrs John laughing.
‘Haven’t had breakfast, Miss. I need fuel. Like a Rolls-Royce I am, give me the right fuel and I run like a dream!’
Everyone just laughed . . . people usually did around Ryan.
Jimmy felt relaxed and happy. He’d come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t playing and had resolved to just enjoy the day and deal with whatever fate threw his way.
When everyone started to get changed, Jimmy strapped his wrists with the white surgical tape he’d asked his mother to get him from Boots. He wound it tightly around his wrist, starting at the base of his hand and going up to just about where his forearm began. When he had done both wrists, he looked down at his handiwork. He couldn’t explain it, but the strapping just made him feel good. Little did he know it then, but he’d never play another game in his life without strapping his wrists up. It became his own personal match-day tradition.
Just before they walked out onto the field, Mrs John called them all together.
‘No big speech from me today,’ she said. ‘Just get out there and enjoy the game. It’s been a joy getting to know you all this year, and to see the effort and total commitment that you’ve all given has been a genuine highlight of both my rugby and teaching career. Thank you.’
As Mrs John paused to emphasise the sincerity of the moment, Ryan punctured the silence and said, ‘That’s all right, Miss, you’re very welcome.’
Everyone stifled a laugh, not wishing to spoil Mrs John’s moment, until she burst out laughing herself, which opened the laughter floodgates for everyone else.
As the laughter died down, Mrs John continued. ‘That sums up this whole experience: fun, joy and laughter. Take that enjoyment out onto the pitch and express yourselves, enjoy every single minute. You are a very talented squad, and if you can link the enjoyment with your ability, you’ll be bringing that cup back here later on. Good luck.’
At that point, Matt, who had been handed the captaincy by Mrs John in Jimmy’s absence screamed, ‘Come on Centraaaaaaaaallll!’ at the top of his voice and rushed towards the door. His team followed him through the exit at a jog, studs clacking on the tiled floor as they went.
Jimmy grabbed his training top and orange bib. He waited for everyone to leave and was last out. Just before he left, he took his glasses off, put them in his bag and grabbed his inhaler and took two big puffs before grabbing his gumshield and tucking it in his sock.
‘Right then. Let’s go and see how this all develops,’ he said, and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
CRASH, BANG, WALLOP
Jimmy joined the other replacements on the sideline.
In front of the small, purpose-built stand on Underhill’s main pitch, which was packed full of parents, friends and family, were two small enclosed seating areas. The dugouts. One was marked ‘Home’. The other was marked ‘Away’.
Jimmy and the replacements took their places in the ‘Home’ dugout. Just as Jimmy did, he heard a distinctive whistle. He recognised it instantly. It was his grandfather. He looked up into the stand and scanned the faces that greeted him. He quickly saw his family, made up of both his grandparents, his mother and his brother and sister. Sitting next to Julie was Jimmy’s dad. Jimmy gave a quick wave and thumbs up to them and they all waved back. He loved that they were all sitting together. This time last year, his parents weren’t even sitting in the same stand, let alone just a couple of seats away from each other. Jimmy thought it was great that his parents had somehow found a way to be friendly to each other and focus on making the best they could out of life for the benefit of their three children. It gave Jimmy a satisfied, warm feeling.
Jimmy loved that his whole family – not just his mum and dad – took an interest in his rugby career and offered him such support. He knew not everybody was that lucky. His mind went straight back to the way Mike Green’s father had behaved in the last final. He hoped no player would have to experience anything like that today.
Mrs John was nervously walking in front of the players’ dugout, and was soon joined by Kevin. Kevin glanced round and saw Jimmy and winked at him. Jimmy waved back. He felt good that Kevin was there. It reassured Jimmy and made him feel that everything was going to be all right, whatever happened.
Then, a few moments later, the referee blew his whistle to start the game. Jimmy’s replacement, Jordan, took an immaculate drop kick from the centre line to begin the contest. He judged it perfectly and Jimmy watched it hang in the air as both sets of forwards charged after it to try to gain possession. Jimmy watched the arc of the ball and said out loud to nobody in particular, ‘Good kick, Jordan, great start.’
A forward from Central’s opponents, Brookdale Primary School, got there first. He was instantly snagged by Andrew Beasley and Ryan who hit him with a twin tackle. Both sides fought for the ball, but it wasn’t coming out, so the referee blew for a scrum. He gave the put-in to Brookdale.
This was to be the pattern of the first five minutes or so of the half. Lots of commitment and endeavour, but all of it happening amongst the forwards, with the referee often stopping things and restarting with a scrum. It wasn’t the most entertaining of starts. In fact, the only rugby highlight of note was watching Manu’s crisp, accurate passing. Jimmy hadn’t seen him play for a while and he’d obviously benefited from practising since the day they’d all found that training equipment at the Memorial Ground the previous summer. Manu looked as sharp as Jimmy had ever seen him . . . practice clearly made perfect.
But then it happened.
From the base of yet another scrum, the Brookdale scrum-half won the ball and quickly passed to his fly-half. Just as quickly, the fly-half moved the ball on to the inside centre, a very big lad who had run an excellent line at pace. It was like watching Manu Tuilagi at his best. Until, of course, he met Central’s own Manu.
Manu had predicted what was going to happen when he saw his opposing centre lying deep, even before the scrum-half had passed the ball. When it made its way to the centre, Manu was ready and absolutely smashed his opponent.
But something went horribly wrong.
It was obviously a complete accident, but a combination of Manu not placing his head safely and the Brookdale player raising his knee as he sprinted at his tackler, saw Manu take the impact of the rising knee straight in his face.
Manu didn’t even have a chance to wrap his arms around his opponent. He fell to the ground instantly, like an old oak being chopped down in a forest. It was terrible.
The noise from the clash was sickening and drew a collective gasp from the crowd.
The first person to tend to Manu was Matt, and he was upset by what he saw. There was blood flowing out of Manu’s nose and above his right eye a bump had swelled up like a small pumpkin.
A moment later, Matt was joined by the medical staff from the Eagles Academy who, luckily, were attending the game, and they quickly moved Matt to the side and began treating Manu. They immobilised his neck and began talking to him, assessing straight away if he’d lost consciousness. Thankfully, he hadn’t. When all the other players had moved away to form a huddle, Matt stood by, until Mrs John reached him and brought him away from the scene. He was visibly shaken.
After about five minutes of treatment, the medical staff focused on checking Manu’s awareness and were satisfied that he wasn’t suffering from serious injury. However, they still had to check for concussion, so they turned to Mrs John, and told her that they were going to take Manu to the changing rooms to carry out a full HIA. Manu was now standing up and talking very freely to the medical staff. Matt went to talk to him and was so relieved to see his great friend being able to talk and seemingly well recovered from such a big bang.
Mrs John looked across at Manu and walked towards him.
‘I’m really sorry, Manu, but even if you pass the HIA, I just can’t risk you taking another knock to the head, so soon after this one. I have to be very careful not to risk you getting a further injury. I have some doubt, so I’ve no option but to sit you out. Please understand.’
Manu tried to protest, but it was no good. Mrs John would not be swayed, and she watched sadly as Kevin came over and helped lead Manu off the field.
Mrs John jogged quickly over to Jimmy.
‘Well, it’s not the way we would have wanted, Jimmy, but that’s rugby. Come on then, get changed, you’re on. I want you to go straight to fly-half and Jordan will move over to centre. I’ll tell him now.’
‘Yeah, thanks Julie, really thoughtful,’ said Jonny, filling his breakfast bowl with oats, yoghurt and a fruit compote. ‘I wish Jim had a cup final every Saturday!’
After a great breakfast, Jimmy did what he always did on a match day and called in to see his grandparents.
As usual, his grandmother had the kettle on as soon as she saw Jimmy’s head pop around the door and Jimmy went in and sat with his grandfather.
‘So how do you feel about not playing then, son?’ he asked.
‘It just feels a bit odd, Gramp, to be honest. I mean last year, I was in the middle of everything, but this year, I feel a bit left out. But I’ve got nobody to blame but myself. I sort of wish I’d played in the quarter- and semi-final now. Maybe that was a mistake, but I just didn’t feel ready. Perhaps I should have just gone for it.’
‘Mmmmm. Maybe,’ was the thoughtful reply. ‘But I’m a big believer in gut instinct, Jimmy, and if you didn’t feel it was right, well then it probably wasn’t. There’s nothing you can do about it now anyway. It is what it is.’
Jimmy smiled at his grandfather’s well-used catchphrase, he seemed to say it to sum up any tricky situation.
‘So, has your teacher given you any clue if she’ll definitely bring you on at some point?’
‘Not really. She said she’ll try to give us all a game, but Mrs John is really competitive and I know she’ll want to make sure we’re winning before she makes any changes. In fairness, Jordan – the boy who has taken my place – has been playing well all week. He’s normally a centre, but I’ve been really impressed by him in training. So good luck to him, I don’t really want to see him having a bad game, so we’ll just have to see what happens.’
‘You’re a good lad, Jimmy, I have to say that. And you know what I always say, ‘Good things happen to good people,’ so I expect it all to turn out well for you somehow.’
‘I hope so. Thanks, Gramp.’
‘Do you think Mark Kane will be there?’
‘Probably. He’ll no doubt be pleased that I’m not playing. But I’m past caring about him, to be honest, Gramp. He’s never going to rate me so it’s no use worrying about whether he’s going to pick me for the Eagles again or not.’
Then, glancing up at his grandfather, he said, ‘It is what it is.’
Will laughed, ‘Ha! You’re right about that, son.’
Jimmy spent the next hour or so with his grandparents, chatting about nothing in particular. He loved spending time with them, especially on a match day. He found it calmed him down. Although, today, because he was starting on the bench, Jimmy felt less on edge than normal, so he was able to relax and enjoy the morning with them.
As he was leaving to get all his kit prepared, his grandfather called him over.
‘Here we are, Jim,’ he said, reaching into a carrier bag he had at the side of his chair, and pulling out his usual pre-match treat for Jimmy: a trusty Mars Bar. ‘Just to keep you going.’
Jimmy smiled again, ‘Ta Gramp, I’ll eat it on the bus.’
‘Good lad, see you later. And remember: like my rope ladder training, you’ve done all you need to do regarding your tackling. When the opportunity comes, just make the most of it and give it your best. It’ll all work out for you.’
For the first time that morning, with the mention of tackling, Jimmy stiffened up a little bit. Maybe it was a good thing he was on the bench after all. As he walked back to his house, he tried to banish the negative thoughts from his mind, yet they still remained. But he resolved to do the best he could if and when the moment arrived and take it from there.
As he reached the front door, his iPhone buzzed. He looked at the screen – it was a message from Kevin.
‘Good luck today, Jimmy, you’ll be fine. You’re ready for this and you have the ability to deal with any tackle you may face. I’m certain of it. Don’t worry about anything, and if you get the chance, be like Fekitoa!’
Beneath the message was a YouTube link titled ‘Fekitoa’s big hit on Conrad Smith’. Jimmy tapped on it and a short, forty-four second film opened.
Jimmy knew who Malakai Fekitoa was, he’d read about him in Rugby World magazine, which he’d read every month in the local public library. He was a Tongan born former All Black centre who had given up playing for the All Blacks to play in Europe, because he wanted to earn enough money to provide for his family in New Zealand and Tonga. He’d read that Fekitoa’s dad had died when he was young and since then, he’d taken it upon himself to always support his mum and brothers and sisters. With the money he earned from rugby, he helped support his nieces and nephews too and in all, helped over thirty members of his family. Jimmy loved Fekitoa for that, he thought it was a brilliant thing to do. He’d seen plenty of Fekitoa on YouTube, playing for the Highlanders, Toulon and Wasps and scoring some incredible tries. He was a brilliantly powerful runner. Jimmy dreamed of having the power that Fekitoa had.
Jimmy watched as the video loaded. It was a game from Super Rugby – the Highlanders versus the Hurricanes.
The clip started as one of Fekitoa’s Highlander teammates kicked the ball deep down field. The ball went over the heads of the Hurricane defence, who had to turn, and their right winger collected the ball near his right touchline. He passed inside to Beauden Barrett who jogged forward, looking at the options in front of him. He didn’t have much on, so he just moved the ball along to his captain in the centre, Conrad Smith. Just as Smith caught the ball, he was absolutely smashed in the tackle by Fekitoa. The commentator screamed, ‘Oooooh, what a shot! Malakai Fekitoa just sat Conrad Smith right down!’
Jimmy was mesmerised. He watched the slow-motion replay and saw how far out Fekitoa had been when he made the decision to hit Smith. Barrett hadn’t seen him coming when he made the pass and Fekitoa hit Smith with just about the perfect rugby tackle, taking man and ball and winning the penalty straight after from the referee. Jimmy watched it again and again until the picture of the tackle was burnt into his mind. Then he read Kevin’s text again.
‘Be like Fekitoa.’
Well, Jimmy wasn’t from Tonga, he hadn’t played for the All Blacks and certainly didn’t possess thighs as big as tree trunks, but if he got on today, he vowed he would be like Fekitoa!
THE ROAD TO THE FINAL
Jimmy arrived at school to board the minibus that would take the squad to Underhill.
The first to greet him was Manu.
‘All right Jimmy boooooooyyy?’ he shouted at him and, as usual, tried to wrap him up in a smother tackle.
‘Get off me you maniac, save your tackles for the game!’
Manu laughed, ‘Don’t worry about that, I’m going to munch a few of them today. They’ll be sorry they ever took the field against Massive Manu from Central Primary,’ and with that, he dropped his back pack to the floor and flexed his biceps.
‘Not again!’ cried Kitty rolling her eyes. ‘You’re hardly the Rock.’
‘Yeah, more like the Pebble,’ said Ryan, who always managed to find the right quip to bring someone back down to earth.
Everybody burst out laughing, even Manu.
‘That’s what I like to see, laughing and smiling. A happy squad is a successful squad,’ said Mrs John as she walked past to open up the minibus.
‘Peter Clement said the very same to us before the final last year,’ said Kitty, rushing forward to be near her favourite teacher.
‘Well, great minds clearly think alike, don’t they? Come on, get on the bus you lot, it’s time to get this show on the road!’
They all got on the minibus, a picture of smiles and joy. The only one not smiling, Jimmy noticed, was Matt. He looked as if he had the world on his shoulders. As usual, he hadn’t said a single word to Jimmy and boarded the minibus without really speaking to anyone.
They arrived at the Underhill complex and those that hadn’t been there before were hugely impressed. Jimmy had forgotten just what a brilliant place it was. Because he’d been so unhappy there in the summer, he hadn’t really taken in what a great facility it was. As they walked from the car park to the main entrance, a man walked out from the building and turned left towards the entrance to the main playing area. It was Mark Kane.
He obviously heard all the voices from the Central players, who were chattering nineteen to the dozen with excitement, but blanked everyone completely and just carried on walking.
I hope that’s the last time I see him today, thought Jimmy.
Inside the changing room, the Central players were in seventh heaven. It was superb.
Unknown to them, Mrs John had sent Kevin ahead with the kit that morning and he’d laid it all out on the individual seats in number order, starting with one on the left, all the way up to include the replacements’ numbers. The kit looked so professional, laid out as it was, folded with the white number standing proud on the red and black colours of the brand new jerseys.
Despite the kit being brand new, when Mrs John had checked it the day before, she found that one of the replacement’s shirts was missing. She asked Jimmy if he wouldn’t mind wearing one of the old ones. ‘Can it be number 10, Miss?’ he asked hopefully. ‘I don’t see why not,’ she said, smiling.
In the middle of the room, on the treatment table, he’d laid out bottles of water for everyone and a selection of energy bars. As soon as he walked in there, Ryan bolted to the table and picked up about six energy bars. ‘I’m having these,’ he said stuffing them into his backpack.
‘Ryan, really?’ said Mrs John laughing.
‘Haven’t had breakfast, Miss. I need fuel. Like a Rolls-Royce I am, give me the right fuel and I run like a dream!’
Everyone just laughed . . . people usually did around Ryan.
Jimmy felt relaxed and happy. He’d come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t playing and had resolved to just enjoy the day and deal with whatever fate threw his way.
When everyone started to get changed, Jimmy strapped his wrists with the white surgical tape he’d asked his mother to get him from Boots. He wound it tightly around his wrist, starting at the base of his hand and going up to just about where his forearm began. When he had done both wrists, he looked down at his handiwork. He couldn’t explain it, but the strapping just made him feel good. Little did he know it then, but he’d never play another game in his life without strapping his wrists up. It became his own personal match-day tradition.
Just before they walked out onto the field, Mrs John called them all together.
‘No big speech from me today,’ she said. ‘Just get out there and enjoy the game. It’s been a joy getting to know you all this year, and to see the effort and total commitment that you’ve all given has been a genuine highlight of both my rugby and teaching career. Thank you.’
As Mrs John paused to emphasise the sincerity of the moment, Ryan punctured the silence and said, ‘That’s all right, Miss, you’re very welcome.’
Everyone stifled a laugh, not wishing to spoil Mrs John’s moment, until she burst out laughing herself, which opened the laughter floodgates for everyone else.
As the laughter died down, Mrs John continued. ‘That sums up this whole experience: fun, joy and laughter. Take that enjoyment out onto the pitch and express yourselves, enjoy every single minute. You are a very talented squad, and if you can link the enjoyment with your ability, you’ll be bringing that cup back here later on. Good luck.’
At that point, Matt, who had been handed the captaincy by Mrs John in Jimmy’s absence screamed, ‘Come on Centraaaaaaaaallll!’ at the top of his voice and rushed towards the door. His team followed him through the exit at a jog, studs clacking on the tiled floor as they went.
Jimmy grabbed his training top and orange bib. He waited for everyone to leave and was last out. Just before he left, he took his glasses off, put them in his bag and grabbed his inhaler and took two big puffs before grabbing his gumshield and tucking it in his sock.
‘Right then. Let’s go and see how this all develops,’ he said, and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
CRASH, BANG, WALLOP
Jimmy joined the other replacements on the sideline.
In front of the small, purpose-built stand on Underhill’s main pitch, which was packed full of parents, friends and family, were two small enclosed seating areas. The dugouts. One was marked ‘Home’. The other was marked ‘Away’.
Jimmy and the replacements took their places in the ‘Home’ dugout. Just as Jimmy did, he heard a distinctive whistle. He recognised it instantly. It was his grandfather. He looked up into the stand and scanned the faces that greeted him. He quickly saw his family, made up of both his grandparents, his mother and his brother and sister. Sitting next to Julie was Jimmy’s dad. Jimmy gave a quick wave and thumbs up to them and they all waved back. He loved that they were all sitting together. This time last year, his parents weren’t even sitting in the same stand, let alone just a couple of seats away from each other. Jimmy thought it was great that his parents had somehow found a way to be friendly to each other and focus on making the best they could out of life for the benefit of their three children. It gave Jimmy a satisfied, warm feeling.
Jimmy loved that his whole family – not just his mum and dad – took an interest in his rugby career and offered him such support. He knew not everybody was that lucky. His mind went straight back to the way Mike Green’s father had behaved in the last final. He hoped no player would have to experience anything like that today.
Mrs John was nervously walking in front of the players’ dugout, and was soon joined by Kevin. Kevin glanced round and saw Jimmy and winked at him. Jimmy waved back. He felt good that Kevin was there. It reassured Jimmy and made him feel that everything was going to be all right, whatever happened.
Then, a few moments later, the referee blew his whistle to start the game. Jimmy’s replacement, Jordan, took an immaculate drop kick from the centre line to begin the contest. He judged it perfectly and Jimmy watched it hang in the air as both sets of forwards charged after it to try to gain possession. Jimmy watched the arc of the ball and said out loud to nobody in particular, ‘Good kick, Jordan, great start.’
A forward from Central’s opponents, Brookdale Primary School, got there first. He was instantly snagged by Andrew Beasley and Ryan who hit him with a twin tackle. Both sides fought for the ball, but it wasn’t coming out, so the referee blew for a scrum. He gave the put-in to Brookdale.
This was to be the pattern of the first five minutes or so of the half. Lots of commitment and endeavour, but all of it happening amongst the forwards, with the referee often stopping things and restarting with a scrum. It wasn’t the most entertaining of starts. In fact, the only rugby highlight of note was watching Manu’s crisp, accurate passing. Jimmy hadn’t seen him play for a while and he’d obviously benefited from practising since the day they’d all found that training equipment at the Memorial Ground the previous summer. Manu looked as sharp as Jimmy had ever seen him . . . practice clearly made perfect.
But then it happened.
From the base of yet another scrum, the Brookdale scrum-half won the ball and quickly passed to his fly-half. Just as quickly, the fly-half moved the ball on to the inside centre, a very big lad who had run an excellent line at pace. It was like watching Manu Tuilagi at his best. Until, of course, he met Central’s own Manu.
Manu had predicted what was going to happen when he saw his opposing centre lying deep, even before the scrum-half had passed the ball. When it made its way to the centre, Manu was ready and absolutely smashed his opponent.
But something went horribly wrong.
It was obviously a complete accident, but a combination of Manu not placing his head safely and the Brookdale player raising his knee as he sprinted at his tackler, saw Manu take the impact of the rising knee straight in his face.
Manu didn’t even have a chance to wrap his arms around his opponent. He fell to the ground instantly, like an old oak being chopped down in a forest. It was terrible.
The noise from the clash was sickening and drew a collective gasp from the crowd.
The first person to tend to Manu was Matt, and he was upset by what he saw. There was blood flowing out of Manu’s nose and above his right eye a bump had swelled up like a small pumpkin.
A moment later, Matt was joined by the medical staff from the Eagles Academy who, luckily, were attending the game, and they quickly moved Matt to the side and began treating Manu. They immobilised his neck and began talking to him, assessing straight away if he’d lost consciousness. Thankfully, he hadn’t. When all the other players had moved away to form a huddle, Matt stood by, until Mrs John reached him and brought him away from the scene. He was visibly shaken.
After about five minutes of treatment, the medical staff focused on checking Manu’s awareness and were satisfied that he wasn’t suffering from serious injury. However, they still had to check for concussion, so they turned to Mrs John, and told her that they were going to take Manu to the changing rooms to carry out a full HIA. Manu was now standing up and talking very freely to the medical staff. Matt went to talk to him and was so relieved to see his great friend being able to talk and seemingly well recovered from such a big bang.
Mrs John looked across at Manu and walked towards him.
‘I’m really sorry, Manu, but even if you pass the HIA, I just can’t risk you taking another knock to the head, so soon after this one. I have to be very careful not to risk you getting a further injury. I have some doubt, so I’ve no option but to sit you out. Please understand.’
Manu tried to protest, but it was no good. Mrs John would not be swayed, and she watched sadly as Kevin came over and helped lead Manu off the field.
Mrs John jogged quickly over to Jimmy.
‘Well, it’s not the way we would have wanted, Jimmy, but that’s rugby. Come on then, get changed, you’re on. I want you to go straight to fly-half and Jordan will move over to centre. I’ll tell him now.’
