A Boy and His Dream !!!

It must have all started when I was about ten years old; I was a young boy living in southern Galway

, Ireland.

It was a lovely, charming and somewhat picturesque environment where tranquillity was all around if you lived in the north that was. Now the north had many beautifully crafted cottages, bungalows and houses that every detail was perfect upon them these cottages, bungalows and houses each owned tremendously stunning gardens filled endlessly with exquisite roses, daffodils and pansies which stood collectively with an abundance of other enchanting and somewhat sweet flowers in every shade of colour imaginable. There was also a warm and quite jolly atmosphere flowing through the vast towns, cities and counties of the north. Lakes were also present and there were huge lochs as far as the eye could see, where fly fishermen fled to try their luck and hopefully taunt a famous trout of two onto there rods. On the outskirts the north was mainly countryside but on the inside parts of it were a lot more modern and structured into huge counties and cities.

There were also a few substantial manors around the area too, which rich and dominant politicians, lawyers and so on lived in. It was a great place academically too as if you lived there you were almost certain academic success through the teachers who were renowned for their excellence in the schools that they taught. Later on in life you would have countless options and careers coming you’re way in which would be the basis for you in further life.

Even though a lot of people who lived there were obnoxious snobs who only cared about money and power they were still well thought of and some thought that they were legitimate businessmen also well respected individuals. They were respected what for one thing and one thing only there money and what they could do with it, as in the north the person with the most wealth was clearly the superior. They were not judged by the kind of person they were as they gained the respect of others in totally the wrong manor, they gained the respect by there enormously extravagant bank account and how they can push manipulate and intimidate others with their money. People in the north would once again not stand tall against a higher party than themselves they would merely retreat from them showing fear and letting the opposed smell it almost like a shark smelling blood from a mile away.

There was also the south of Galway where I happened to live, the south side was a poverty stricken ruins and a decaying dump of a town where rubbish was flung everywhere. No one took any pride over the south as chewing gum was cascaded all across well what was left of the pavements, where as in the north there was not a single piece of rubbish to be seen. The houses if you could call them houses were shabby and confined excuses for a place to live, the crime rate in the south was almost three times higher than in the north. Houses were broken in to on quite a regular basis so few didn’t have a weapon of some sort at home to deal with the thugs who were causing all the chaos.

There was an ongoing feud, which had been rolling on for almost a decade the two sides were the Catholics and the Protestants who absolutely despised each other. When I walked to school with my mother there were on occasion’s angry mobs of people on both sides of the road, as we walked to school people were screaming and hollering “SCUM” “I HOPE YOU ROT IN HELL” I can also recall this comment on one occasion when me and my mother walked to school “I HOPE YOUR CHILDRENS CHILDREN DIE AS YOUR ALL DISEASES”. As I walked to school there were children all around me hugging their parents and with tears in their eyes they were asking them for it all to cease. I froze for a moment, then regained my confidence and carried on walking to school when I noticed that they were now throwing eggs and hurling balloons not full of water but urine at us one lad got hit by a balloon and dropped onto his knees crying in pure disgust. It was a very intimidating experience for all as we felt like we were trapped even though most parents were just trying to get their children to and from school in one piece and try to take as little abuse as possible from all around us. I could only go to school twice a week due to the lack of qualified teaching staff available to most of the schools in the south of Galway.

I lived in the south with my loving mother who used to walk me too and from school both days as the thought that the ordeal would be to distressing for a lad of my age.

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I lived in the south with my loving mother who used to walk me too and from school both days as the thought that the ordeal would be to distressing for a lad of my age.

My father contradicting my mother was a rugged man drawn to alcohol in the hope of solving many of his everyday problems. He used to drink whisky far too excessively thus corrupting his mind, both my parents were born in Dublin but moved to Galway when they were both twenty-five; they are both forty-five at present. My father when around was a problem to anyone as his drinking habit only complicated things for him in everyday life e.g. his aggressiveness made him have a go at anyone even for the tiniest things. Most nights he would come in early hours reeking of alcohol as he had a tendency to go to the pub, poison himself to the point of criticalness and then come home after spending his wages on alcohol.

My father had a crystal cabinet full with all his prized whisky his drinking problem was so severe that he would consume a full bottle of whisky in a matter of ten minutes or so.

My mother was an accountant for a small bank; she was a respectable modest person renowned for her hard work. My father worked alongside his old mate Callum McCarthy in the mines of oughterard, they had been mates for nearly thirty years as they went to school together an therefore went back a long way. My fathers drinking problem had at one time subsided but a horrific accident at the mines where a young twenty-year-old man had his life taken from him, only added to my father’s problems and once again he looked to whisky as the answer.

For as long as I can remember I have always liked rugby watching it bus especially playing it. My father used to take me to a few games now and again Munster were the best club side winning a few trophies like the Heineken cup in their time. We could never see the national side play as it would cost upwards of one hundred pounds which was a fortune in those days. The people who lived in the north would have been able to watch Ireland play at Lansdowne road but very few people in the south could afford to pay the price of the game.

I was a keen and extremely dedicated rugby player with an ambition to become the best as I always had an unbelievable passion for the game, It was almost as if I had a heart of fire burning brilliantly and constantly pushing me to be the best fly half in the world. The principal welded into my mind is that it’s all or nothing its number one or nothing at all.

I can still remember practicing my up and under kicking in our stupidly small garden, when all of a sudden I kicked the ball far too high and with too much power on it. To my disappointment the ball spiralled towards the patio windows and with one almighty thud shattered them into millions of tiny fragments.

My father had just stumbled back to the house at about seven o’clock he wandered into the kitchen and downed four of five glasses of whisky instantly. I knew that I was in good stead for a hiding because of the cost of the windows but what made matters worse was that my father had been drinking and was too drunk too reason with. I should have escaped but froze in a matter of seconds as soon as my colossal father stepped near me, enraged he confronted me looked me straight in the eyes and told me that I knew what was going to happen. He ran up to his room walked casually down the stairs tripping over the steps he got back up and walked over to my very whereabouts. He was now towering over me with the steel truncheon that he had just obtained from his room he punched me four or five times to the ribs I tried to wrestle him off of me but what can a ten year old boy do to a fully grown man who weighs almost eighteen stone.

I quickly worked out that trying to wrestle him seemed to invigorate him making him even more angrier, he picked up the truncheon and swung it so many times at my upper body and head that I lost count I was now almost unconscious but he still picked me up and with one hand tossed me a few metres onto the grass. When I hit the floor everything went black and the last thing I remember was the now blood red truncheon being slammed to the floor and all the blood which was now pouring and gushing out of my face head and body. I had regained consciousness about an hour later I had a strange numbness which was all around my face and head, battered bruised and bleeding I trundled up to my room to witness my injuries face to face screaming in agony I collapsed on my bed. In the most excruciating pain I was just willing myself to get through it.

I had two gaping holes to the left of my head pouring with blood; three of my ribs had been snapped in half also my face had swollen up to twice its normal size. I knew very well that the injuries that I had sustained were so severe and that it was crucial that I didn’t lose consciousness again.

Luckily for me my mother had just got back from her shopping and also had finished her course in first aid, even though my injuries were beyond my mother she did the best she could. She assured me that if she followed procedure correctly then I would be fine after five our six months rest that is.

My father couldn’t even have the decency to look at me; he just sat down with his whisky and the paper in solitude and totally oblivious to what had happened. As far as he was concerned it was my fault and I should be prepared to take responsibility for my actions, and face the consequences like a man.

My mother was so disgusted by his actions that she broke into tears and carried me to the car. All I heard was shouting and abuse coming from my parents then my mother came out the house and we sped off. My father staggered to the front door, staring icily at us he fell to his knees in shame, as he knew that it was inevitable that he would see either of us again.

I had no idea that we were travelling to Dublin, as I was enticed into a deep slumber. When we arrived in Dublin the main priority was to get me some rest so my mother found a motel where we could stay for a while selling the car to do so.

The rest of the money she took from the house and saved it up little by little, my mother was great through the whole ordeal and she was someone I admire for nurturing me.

Time flew and before I knew it the six months were up true to my mother’s word I had made a miraculous recovery back to full health I couldn’t praise her enough for all she had done. The two once gaping holes to my head had sealed up due to the way that the truncheon had severed parts of my skull. My ribs were now as good as new even stronger as they had welded back together perfectly and I was now in the best physical shape and mental state of mind to for fill my destiny.

Years passed I had now completed my exams in Dublin to my relief I had the grades to work in the wide world and had a solid basis to fall back on if I should get injured in my rugby career. As I was now a mature, driven twenty year old man I could start my extensive training to become the ultimate fly half of the world. My training would consist of two hours a day endurance training every week and for five days each week three hours every day for five days would be spent concentrating on the skills aspect of rugby i.e. tackling passing kicking etc.

I had been training constantly since I was fifteen and so for five years now and my big chance had come when it became apparent to me that the professional team of Munster were recruiting new players; their trials were to be held at Irelands home ground Lansdowne road. The deadline was one week and I was extremely tense and nervous to see whether all my excruciating hours on end of training was to of any accord.

The big day came and lots of skilful players that id played against in the past were there but it meant nothing as I had everything going for me and was a driven man who could not be stopped by anyone. A series of extensive tests took place followed by a big game at the end, the tests ran in accordance this order kicking, tackling, passing, ruck /maul, endurance and lastly the game I thought that I completed everything to the best of my ability and must of as I was the new Munster fly half. I came home to my mother delighted as she nearly fainted with excitement she was as delighted and completely bewildered as I was but now my main priorities in the months ahead were to play beautiful rugby at Munster to boost my chances of being part of the national side.

My life was now going really well and it was as if I had passed into another dimension, but what really rocketed my emotions sky high was what happened seven or so months later. Warren Gatland the Irish head coach had personally commended me for the style of rugby that I played, my kicking that he thought was exquisite and outstanding but most importantly he saw no reason possible why a person of my calibre could not play for Ireland.

Those words that he spoke to me changed my life completely, one week later I phoned Warren up to confirm my career as the number one fly half of the world. To my delight he had accepted and I could start training as of next week the first big game came along when we played the French at Lansdowne road the atmosphere was immense as there were tens of thousands of Irish supporters screaming an old favourite of mine THE FIELDS OF ATHENROW competing with the French songs. As the national anthems were being played I could start to feel the pressure sawing through me like a huge dose of adrenaline pumping through your veins. Grown men were crying with passion from both teams, the whistle then came the and we knew what tasks had to do be done the pressure was on me to win the game as we were level but in the dying seconds a sneaky drop goal just clinched it for us.

Thousands of Irish fans erupted with roars of passion for the team and what we had just done; we had beaten the French, which was always a monumental task as they were the best in the world. The score 24-21 the French were distraught and in pieces lying on the ground whereas we were leaping for joy and couldn’t believe what we had accomplished working as a team. Even though I had never played with the lads before it felt like I had known and played with them for years as we clicked like clockwork. For another ten years I occupied the fly half spot for Ireland and as rugby developed I was lucky enough to play against some of the best sides in the world and travel worldwide. We’ve had famous and historic victories also with them there’s been mammoth defeats but what ether happened on the paddock we made sure that we enjoyed the game treated every opposition be good or bad with the same respect and worked to the best of our ability for the full eighty minutes.

I had always been told that I would never amount to anything because of the circumstances of my background and where I came from. Some people judged me by thinking that I was the same as the equivalent of a flea, a minor or a no body. I proved them all wrong as soon as I put on that Irish shirt with the number ten on the back I used my initiative and in doing so succeeded. I had for filled my destiny and proved that actions speak louder than words, showing what I had to offer to rugby silenced many critics with their ridiculous opinions.

There is a saying in rugby, when you put on the shirt of your country it is never yours you only borrow it for that specific game you should count yourself lucky for having it and give everything in the game, as there is always a more talented player on his way.

I used to visit my mother regularly but couldn’t see my father as he was in prison for an alcohol related crime. My mother was extremely proud to have me as her son and backed me all the way but on the other hand my father acting in the manor of which he did turned out quite well in the long run. It only provided me with even more of a will to move forward and the ability to drive me to the top.

I am now but a withering old man and at seventy-five my rugby days our sadly up but I am enjoying life, and thankful for every day that I wake up in the morning and to a nice cup of coffee. I’ve had an especially nice life and am happy with what I have accomplished all them years ago, I have met some lovely people in life and some not so nice ones too but would give any thing to put on a green, Irish shirt once again and to feel nervous before a big game also the feeling of intensity when the crowd scream your name and how great that really feels because unless you’ve experienced it for yourself its truly remarkable and indescribable experience. One thing that will also always remember is that I didn’t have a set of boots until I was twenty years old.

I suppose I have memories but Id love to relive those feelings again, I will now concentrate on relaxing and making life easy to the end of my days.

By TIM MCSHARRY!!!