AGAINST THE ODDS:After the recent high-profile visits Vinny Fitzpatrick has one final wish to end all this May madness, writes RODDY L'ESTRANGE
FROM THE front door of Vinny Fitzpatrick’s home in Mount Prospect Avenue to the Dart station at Clontarf Road was three and a half kilometres, which was a lot of walking for a corpulent 53-year-old with little fat legs.
It was only when he equated the distance to 12 holes on the links at St Anne’s that Vinny felt up to the task. And he wouldn’t be dragging his clubs on a trolley behind him either.
For a heavy man, he travelled light. All he had in his pocket was €50 for a bet and a pint, some change for the rattler and his ticket for the match. Vinny had been to the new Aviva Stadium once, for the FAI Cup final last November and had vivid memories of a 36,000 crowd, a fine game and a remarkable penalty shoot-out.
For his return, he wasn’t expecting as much fun and games. There was a time when a soccer international between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland was the hottest ticket in town; not anymore. He wouldn’t have thought about going if Dial-A-Smile, the slothful barman in Foley’s, hadn’t crossed the lads’ path on Sunday night with a couple of premium level tickets for Tuesday’s game.
“One of the heads from Clontarf Boys dropped them in. He said the FAI had given them loads of freebies and they couldn’t get rid of them. If you lot want them, they’re yours.”
Twenty years back fisticuffs might have broken out over tickets for an Irish international, free or otherwise, but the Irish team was no longer loved under Giovanni Trapattoni, thought Vinny, certainly not when they were playing “Norn Iron”. After a rather half-hearted draw, Vinny and Brennie found themselves making plans for Nigel, and for Trap. The two friends hooked up at the bottom of Vernon Avenue at a quarter past six and set out along the pedestrian walkway towards Fairview.
By his calculations Vinny reckoned if they caught the Dart from Lansdowne Road just before 10, they’d hook up with the 130 bus on Clontarf Road and be in Foley’s by half past. “Time for four or five creamy pints, perfect,” he thought.
It was blowy on the seafront but nothing like the day before when Barry Obama and the boys had been in town. Obama had impressed him, particularly the way he larruped into his pint in Hayes’ pub in Moneygall. This was no tentative sip of a Guinness rookie; rather a full-blown slug from someone who’d been there before, noted Vinny.
As he and Brennie walked past the disused sea baths on the seafront, where he had played water polo in his teens, Vinny considered the extraordinary times of this little ’ol island of ours. To have the “QE2” and the “Commander-In-Chief” visits back to back was a bit like waiting for the infamous 16A bus, nothing for hours and then two come along together.
That their visits flanked Leinster’s heroic Heineken Cup victory got Vinny’s little grey cells thinking. “You know Brennie,” he volunteered. “All that’s missing now to complete this May madness is for an All-Ireland soccer team.
“We play as one in rugby, boxing, golf, cycling, badminton, squash, show jumping, even bridge. Why is soccer holding out?
“The longer we have two associations on this island, the weaker both international teams will become, and the more free tickets will be lying around in Foley’s.
“We had great days in the past but that’s where it is, in the past. They are not coming back, not with players flooding the English scene from Eastern Europe, Africa and South America.
“Since the World Cup finals in the United States, ourselves and the North have contested eight championships each and between us, got to one final, the 2002 World Cup.
“If you ask me, too many of the blazers in the FAI and the IFA are clinging to the idea that one international team would halve their trips abroad. It’s time they got real and moved on, just like we all did with the Royal visit.”
Brennie looked across at his old friend and shook his head. “Vinny you’re a dreamer. Right now, there is about as much chance of the FAI and IFA uniting as there is of Everton winning the Premier League.
“The two may put on a show tonight but they are effectively at each other’s throats. The IFA have seen half a dozen of its players defect to the Republic under the terms of the Good Friday Agreement, and they are seething.
“The FAI point out that the North can recruit players born in England, Scotland and Wales with Northern lineage but that’s not cutting any slack from Windsor Park.”
By now they were opposite The Schooner pub, about 300 metres from the Dart.
A part of Vinny felt like continuing the debate over a quick reviver but he knew there was every danger one pint would lead to three and they’d miss the match. Besides, Brennie was right. An All-Ireland team was a 100 to 1 long shot in the betting shops, and even more on the exchanges, which was a shame.
As they waited on the exposed platform of Clontarf Road, from where they could just make out the glass roller-coaster outline of the Aviva Stadium, Vinny contemplated rewriting history. “For a bit of gas, Brennie, why don’t we write the strongest all-time Ireland XI, and a manager? We’ve five stops until Lansdowne.” With that, he thrust a betting slip and pencil from Boru Betting into Brennie’s hand. “Get scribbling.”
The journey to Lansdowne took 12 minutes, which Vinny felt was tight enough to complete the task. Incredibly, pulling out of Connolly Station, Brennie had stopped writing. “Done,” he said. For Vinny, it wasn’t so easy. Did he go 4-4-2, or 4-3-3 or the new lone ranger model favoured by Barcelona and Manchester United?
He had to be fair to the North who had reached three World Cup finals, the same as the Republic, and had got there with a strong work ethic and an absence of superstars.
At Grand Canal Dock, complete with damp armpits, he finished his selection. “Right, Brennie, you go first.”
Brennie unfurled his betting slip and spoke: “It’s a 4-4-2. Bonner, McGrath, McCarthy, Moran, Whelan; Houghton, Lawrenson, Brady, Best; Stapleton, Aldridge. It’s the Republic team that beat the Scots in Hampden in 1987 with George Best thrown in. I’d put Big Jack in charge and I’d back them against anyone,” he said.
Vinny grunted. Brennie’s focus was far narrower than his. “Right, I’ve gone for a 4-2-3-1. Jennings; Irwin, McGrath, Danny Blanchflower, Dunne; Giles, Keane; Houghton, Doherty, Best; Stapleton.”
Brennie did a double-take. “Who’s Doherty?” he asked. Vinny smiled. “Peter Doherty, the gifted inside forward who masterminded Man City’s title win in 1937, won the FA Cup with Derby in 1946 and led Northern Ireland to the quarter-finals of the World Cup in 1958. That’s who.”
“Oh right,” replied Brennie. “So he’d be your player-manager then?”
“No,” said Vinny. “There is only man for the job, Billy Bingham. Anyone who can get a midfield partnership of Martin Hugh O’Neill and Samuel Baxter McIlroy to work so successfully will do for me.”
The Dart had arrived at Lansdowne Road station. Kick-off was half an hour away, yet hardly anyone was around and the atmosphere was mute. Bob Dylan, 70 years young, was right. “The times, they are a changing,” thought Vinny sadly.
Vinny's Bismarck
2pts: Lay Leinster to beat Munster in Magners League final (4/5, Skybet, liability 2.5pts)
Bets of the week
1pt each-way: Martin Kaymer in BMW PGA Championship (16/1 Sporting Bet)
2pts: Cork to beat Tipperary in Munster SHC (11/4, Paddy Power)
