AGAINST THE ODDS: In their favourite local hostelry, Vinny and his middle-aged buddies were fine-tuning plans for their longest excursion away from home since Italia '90
A CLUSTER of Irish lads were playing for the MK Dons in the League One play-offs on Tuesday night, but the four middle-aged men in Foley’s, one of them far bulkier than the other three, didn’t steal a glance up at the telly.
In a few weeks, this cabal of working-class Dubs would be heading to the Eastern Front as card-carrying vets of ‘Trap’s Army’ and last night had been hastily set aside for fine-tuning plans for their longest excursion away from home since Italia ’90.
Hastily because Vinny Fitzpatrick, the expedition’s commander-in-chief, having initially suggested a Sunday debrief, then realised it coincided with his late mother, Bridie’s, anniversary Mass – she passed away 10 years ago.
It had meant a tea-time trip to Laytown in Co Meath for the service, followed by cups of sweet char, doorstep-sized sandwiches and an excellent assortment of cakes at the home of his sister, Bernie.
The 5.30pm start meant Vinny caught the final dramatic minutes of the Premier League season in the car radio where he heard confirmation of the €20 double he was praying for – an Everton win and a Liverpool loss, at 4 to 1.
Just as the high ground in Manchester was now held by a team in blue, so it was on Merseyside where Everton had again knocked Liverpool off their perch.
The Mass had been quick and uneventful save for the new wording which confused Vinny, and the late arrival of a beaming father and daughter wearing City replica jerseys.
Their presence reminded Vinny how his own daughter Niamh must be feeling in Manchester. ‘Over the blue moon,’ he thought.
City did nothing for Vinny; they never had, not even in Joe Mercer’s time, and he felt their title success had been bought, just like Chelsea’s.
He paused for a moment during the new-look Creed to consider would he mind if Everton were taken over by oil-rich sheikhs and began to win all around them? Probably not, if he was honest.
It was 17 years since Everton last won the FA Cup, 25 since they won the League. In all likelihood, they wouldn’t win a tin can for Vinny’s remaining days on the mortal coil.
Everton was in Vinny’s blood and he was fiercely proud of the club’s deep Irish roots – they once had five Irish internationals on their books in the 1950s – and also that Darron Gibson was flying the Irish flag for Goodison Park in the Euro finals.
Gibson was a cross between Kevin Sheedy and Lee Carsley who, between them, represented Everton at Euro ’88, Italia ’90 and the 2002 World Cup.
The Derry native possessed a blend of Sheedy’s satin and Carsley’s steel and Vinny had prayed during the ‘Our Father’ that Gibson either replicated Sheedy’s famous goal of 1990 against England or was given game time like Carsley against the Saudis 10 years ago.
Vinny had continued to fight Gibson’s corner on Tuesday night as the likely Irish XI to start against Croatia was debated in Foley’s.
The other Euro 2012 trekkers, Macker, Fran and Brennie, were adamant that Glenn Whelan and Keith Andrews would be first on the team sheet for central midfield but Vinny wasn’t having it.
“Who is the highest-placed player of that trio in the Premier League? Gibson. Who has a higher games won to games played ratio? Gibson. Who knows the Croatia dangerman Jelavic better than anyone else in the squad? Gibson,” he intoned.
“Don’t rule Gibbo out. He could yet be our trump card in the finals.”
Even so, the consensus among the lads was that Ireland, including Vinny, would be home before the postcards, which was just as well as they had booked a fortnight’s holidays each and were due back at work on Wednesday, June 20th.
In Italia ’90, after he had stayed on for the games against Romania and Italy, Vinny found himself on the night shift on the old 30 to Dollymount for four straight weeks in return for the favours he’d pulled in. He’d also pulled a Genovese cracker named Sophia but that was another story.
Their voyage East would kick off with an early morning departure to Budapest for Ireland’s friendly on Monday, June 4th, followed by an overnight rattler to Poznan where they would be based for the finals.
‘Home’ was a Fan Camp on the outskirts of Poznan which had been sourced and booked by Brennie. It cost €33 per night for a two-person tent – with two pints of lager thrown in.
The cheap and cheerful camp, had 24-hour security, bars and restaurants and would, Vinny knew, be crawling with ticket touts open for business.
A flick of a coin billeted Fran with Macker in one tent and Brennie with Vinny in the other, much to Brennie’s dismay.
“How come I always end up with Lord Snoresbury of Snorbington Hall,” he wailed.
Vinny shrugged. He was, he knew, an ear-splitting snorer, especially with a vat of lager and a side of schnitzel swirling around his capacious gut.
“There’s only one thing for it Brennie. Make sure you’re in bed half an hour before me,” he grinned.
The craic was good in Foley’s, the pints excellent, and Vinny pined for his old pal, Shanghai. There was no finer tourist than the soft-hearted clippie whom Vinny missed desperately.
Still, they would march East with their chests out and heads held high, just as Shanghai would have wanted. This was their third tournament as part of the Green Army and Vinny suspected, in all probability, it would be their last.
As youngsters, they’d travelled with Joxer to Stuttgart, and had snuck in to St Peter’s the day the Big Jack and lads met the Pope in Rome. Vinny had a photo at home somewhere where you could just make out the top of his pink head behind Mick Byrne, the lovable former Irish physio.
Downing his sixth pint – he was taking it easy because he was up early in the morning – Vinny spied a line on the Sky Sports ticker about the FAI putting in a bid to co-stage the 2020 Euro finals with Scotland and Wales.
He considered for a moment about where the games might be played, how much it would cost to get everything ready and how the debacle of the 2008 Euro bid might count against the FAI.
He also knew that if Uefa’s head honcho Michel Platini, a slippery sort, was on the side of the bid, it had a chance. Platini saw how hard done by the Irish were in Paris in the World Cup. Maybe now, he could help square things up.
“Lads, have you seen that,” he said pointing a pudgy finger at the telly. “You never know. There might be another Euro finals in us yet.”
Bets of the week
2pts Ulster to win Heineken Cup (100/30 sportingbet)
2pts Chelsea to win Champions League (7/2, Boylesports)
Vinny’s Bismarck
1pt lay Cavan to beat Donegal in Ulster SFC (4/1, Paddy Power, liability 4pts)
