Vinny dives for rich diva, poor Mons sink alone

AGAINST THE ODDS: VINNY FITZPATRICK had just hopped on to Poznan’s tram number six, sweating freely, when he spied a young lad…

AGAINST THE ODDS:VINNY FITZPATRICK had just hopped on to Poznan's tram number six, sweating freely, when he spied a young lad, wearing a Monaghan United jersey, bawling his eyes out at the back of the carriage

“Jaypurs, is everything okay?” he enquired gently. “We’re gone, it’s all over,” replied the Mons fan, a dark-haired chap in his late twenties.

“Sure we were gone since last Thursday when we lost to Spain,” replied Vinny.

The Monaghan fan stood up. He was tall, thin and he towered over Vinny.

READ MORE

“This has nothing to do with Ireland,” he said, breathing a beery blast. “It’s about Monaghan United. We’ve just pulled out of the league. We’re finished.’

His eyes welled up and he collapsed in a sobbing heap.

Vinny would have stayed a bit longer but he was at his stop, outside the mall by Lake Malta.

As he watched the yellow and green tram tootle off, Vinny digested the news that Monaghan United had been wiped from the League of Ireland map.

“What timing,” he thought to himself. “On the day the Republic of Ireland try to save face in the Euro finals, the little ’ol league that provides a pathway for the senior squad is falling apart.”

He wondered what Kevin Doyle, Shane Long, Stephen Ward, David Forde and the luckless Keith Fahey would make of the news.

They would all have played at Gortakeegan, the Nou Camp of the north, in their time.

It had been a while since Vinny journeyed up the N3 with Bohs but he recalled a beer-fuelled trip for a League Cup tie in the mid 80s to their previous ground, Belgium Park, a pokey place in the heart of the town.

The collapse of Monaghan would leave the league lop-sided even it was good news for Bohs who lost at home to Mons earlier in the season and would make up some ground on those teams whose wins would be wiped out.

A bigger part of Vinny was angry at the FAI for taking their eye off the ball. Since taking the League of Ireland under their wing, three clubs had disappeared – Sporting Fingal, Galway United and now Monaghan.

Derry City and Cork City had had to reform as new entities; Drogheda went into examinership, while his beloved Bohs had a hand- to-mouth existence.

As he waddled into CA to buy some clothes for Angie, the twins and his grandchild, Vincent jnr, he felt anger towards the FAI, and chief executive John Delaney.

“Why wasn’t he back in Dublin putting the fires out around Monaghan, justifying his big salary instead of swanning around Poland partying?” thought Vinny.

A few days earlier, up in Sopot, the lads had literally bumped into Delaney in a cocktail bar.

The FAI chief was being hoisted shoulder-high by fans, eager to get up close and personal. At one stage, an FAI flunky approached the lads and said Delaney would like to buy them a drink. Fran, Macker and Brennie had all ordered tequila slammers but Vinny had made his excuses and left.

He walked down to the famed Sopot pier, the longest in Europe, to take some air.

The trip had been terrific craic, notwithstanding the misunderstanding in Poznan over the goats which required several acts of contrition, and a €200 fine, before their release an hour before the Croatia game.

After the sticky heat of Poznan, Sopot was a cool blast. It had a lovely beach, lovely people and the main drag of Monte Cassino was dotted with fine bars and reasonably-priced restaurants.

At the end of the pier was a marina where yachts and pleasure cruisers were berthed. Some were occupied by late night revellers and Vinny heard the clink of glass and sound of laughter as he sauntered by.

Vinny turned to look back at Sopot. To his left was Gdansk, where Ireland had played Spain – he had put €50 on the Spaniards to win with a minus-two goal handicap – and to his right was Gdynia, where the Irish team trained.

As he ran his eye over the marina, he spied one yacht, flashier than the others, moored about 20 yards out from the quay.

There was loud music, which he recognised as a theme song from the 2010 World Cup finals. He saw a slender woman peering over the stern; then he saw her tumble into the water.

Instantly, Vinny’s instincts kicked in. He took off his shoes and dived headlong into the sea. He didn’t know if anyone else had seen the woman fall; he didn’t know if she could swim, but he couldn’t take a chance.

As a former member of the Bull Island Bathers, Vinny had always been a powerful swimmer and his stroke was sure and strong as he cut through the water.

The woman had drifted slightly on the tide away from the boat and was screaming for help. Vinny heard splashes as other rescuers dived in but he had a head start and arrived on the scene first.

The woman was thrashing about, agitated.

Vinny thought of Giovanni Trapattoni and said “tranquilo, tranquilo” repeatedly as his old life-saving techniques kicked in.

He placed his arms around the woman’s shoulders, turned her around so her back was pressed against his chest, and took care to ensure her chin was out of the water. He then began to kick backwards towards the yacht.

His “tranquilo, tranquilo” mantra worked as the woman relaxed slightly as she leaned into him. She was light, which helped.

Soon the cavalry arrived but Vinny waved them off and kept kicking until his potato head smacked the side of the yacht.

There, powerful arms carefully brought the woman back on board. She was shaken, but unhurt. She turned to her portly rescuer, flashed a smile and said, “Gracias, muchas gracias.”

Someone asked Vinny to come onboard but he waved his goodbyes and swam back to the pier – he didn’t want to lose his shoes.

Vinny thought little of the incident, for he was that kind of guy, but a picture the following morning in the local newspaper had caught his eye.

It showed Shakira, the renowned Colombian singer-songwriter, on a boat in the marina. The rock diva was in Sopot to support her boyfriend, Gerard Pique, the Spanish defender.

Vinny looked at the slick lines of the yacht and thought it resembled the one he’d swum to the night before. Then he shook his head and smiled. “Me and Shakira? Give over,” he said aloud.

As he pottered about in the kids’ section in CA on Monday morning, he wondered about Shakira again. She knew her football even if she had never been to Gortakeegan.

Briefly, he thought about writing her a letter asking would she be interested in doing a fund-raising gig for the Mons. Then he checked himself. Alas, it was too late even for that.

Bets of the week

1pt each-way Retief Goosen in BMW International(25/1, Boylesports); 2pts Czech Republic to beat Portugal in Euro 2012 quarter-finals (9/2, William Hill)

Vinny’s Bismarck

1pt Lay Dublin to beat Kilkenny in Leinster SHC (4/1, Paddy Power, liability 4pts)

Roddy L'Estrange

Roddy L'Estrange

Roddy L'Estrange previously wrote a betting column for The Irish Times