Gerard Siggins - Rugby Heroes

C HRISTMAS was Eoins favourite time of the year. He had a stack of memories of joyful mornings when he benefited from being the only child and grandchild in his family.

As he stretched out in his bed and lifted his legs over the side he wondered what delights would be under the tree for him this year.

Since he had started to do well at rugby there was no point asking Santa or his family for the usual presents of sportswear, as his wardrobe was stuffed solid with jerseys and tracksuits in both Leinster blue and Ireland green.

He had dropped a few hints about how he missed cycling since hed outgrown his bike, and how good it might be to help him vary his fitness training. While he had been rested during the Mini World Cup he had borrowed a bike to get around the university campus and enjoyed the freedom it gave him.

Although it felt like so long ago, it was only a week or so since Ireland had won the final and Eoin had helped solve the mysterious theft of the William Webb Ellis Cup with a little help from the man after whom the cup was named. Thinking of those days brought him back to the exciting moments of glory when Sam Farrelly had scored the winning try and Charlie Bermingham had lifted the trophy over his head. He felt a warm fuzzy glow rush through him and he jumped up from the bed, lifting an imaginary World Cup over his own head and taking the applause of the crowd.

He had been surrounded by newspaper reporters and cameramen after the game, but the Garda detectives had told him it was important he didnt say anything about the crime or the operation to recover the trophy as it might prevent the thieves from being sent to prison. Eoin was happy to keep quiet as he hated being the centre of attention anyway.

The IRFU was particularly delighted with his detective work, however, and he was chuffed when he got down home to Ormondstown for the holidays to find a letter of thanks from its president. He was even happier when he noticed that the paperclip on the top of the page was attached to four thin pieces of cardboard: Ireland versus England at Aviva Stadium, Saturday 30 March was all Eoin bothered to read before he whooped with delight and rushed to show his mum.

Hed decided to say nothing to his grandfather, but instead slipped one ticket inside the pair of socks he always bought him for Christmas. That would be an excellent present!

Eoin dressed quickly and rushed down the stairs as quickly as he had every Christmas morning since hed been able to walk. He popped his head into the kitchen, where his parents were already hard at work preparing breakfast and dinner.

Happy Christmas, Mam, Happy Christmas, Dad! he smiled. I wonder whats under the tree for me?

He hugged his parents and handed over his gifts to them, before crossing to the sitting room, where a shining bicycle awaited him.

Just what I wanted!

Why dont you run over to see Dixie? suggested his mother. Hes been on the phone already so hes up and about. Tell him your dad will collect him about one oclock.

That would be great but are you sure you dont want a hand peeling sprouts? asked Eoin.

Does the great detective Sherlock Holmes peel sprouts? asked his dad. No, run on there and see your grandad.

Eoin winced at what his father had said he really hated the attention he had got over the incident, and got particularly embarrassed when people called him a hero but then he grinned gratefully and wheeled his bike out of the house, pausing to admire its perfect dark blue paintwork.

Eoins grandfather, Dixie Madden, was once a great rugby player, and he had become Eoins greatest supporter. He lived in a cottage nearby and Eoin called to see him every day he was home from boarding school.

Hi, Grandad, merry Christmas to you, Eoin called as he spotted the old man opening the curtains at the window.

Dixie lifted his hand in salute and moved to open the door.

Well, was Santa Claus good to you? he asked.

Very! replied Eoin, hopping off and pointing to his brand-new bike.

Oh, thats a beauty, smiled Dixie. Does she move well?

Like a dream, replied Eoin. I got over here in about two minutes flat, he pointed to his watch. Ive never run it faster than five.

Thats good news, youll have that bit more time to spend with me when you call over now, Dixie chuckled.

Dad says hell call over at one oclock, Eoin said, as the old man ushered him inside.

That will give us plenty of time to talk about rugby, said Dixie. We will have to get that project of yours finished too.

Eoins face fell.

Grandad its Christmas Day! You dont expect me to do school work today, do you?

Ah no, sure this isnt work at all, laughed Dixie.

Hmmm, mused Eoin. It certainly sounds like it. What do you have in mind?

Well, your project is on the origins of rugby and William Webb Ellis the chap whose trophy you discovered. But besides Ellis spending some time here as a boy, theres nothing about the early days of rugby in Ireland. So, well, I thought youd like this said Dixie, handing Eoin a parcel. Ive a few other presents for you, but this will be useful.

Eoin tore open the wrapping and saw that it was a book on the history of the rugby stadium on Lansdowne Road. He riffled through the pages, catching sight of old players whose names Dixie had mentioned to him. His friend Brian, too, had told him about the stars he had seen play at the ground.

Wow, thanks Grandad, this is excellent, he grinned. I promise Ill start reading it tonight.

Dixie laughed. Well, I dont expect youll allow it to get in the way of the important Christmas things such as eating and watching TV