Rugby Spirit Read Online Free PDF

goes out. If you kick for touch from outside your own twenty-two then you have to ensure the ball bounces before it goes into touch, which is tricky.’
    ‘What happens if it doesn’t,’ asked Eoin.
    ‘The touch judge runs all the way back to level where you kicked it from and that’s where the line-out happens . That can mean you’ve lost thirty or forty metres,’ explained Alan.
    ‘But if you’re inside the twenty-two it doesn’t matter if it bounces or not,’ said Eoin.
    ‘Exactly – you’re getting the hang of it,’ laughed Alan.
    ‘Fair play Alan, you’re fantastic at making it sound so easy. You must have learned the game as a baby?’
    ‘Not exactly, but my dad and big brothers all played it. They were all really good too’, he grimaced. ‘I’m a bitof a black sheep that way …’
    The pair spent another fifteen minutes going back over the pitch markings and what part they played in the game.
    ‘Do you reckon you’ll be OK tomorrow?’ asked Alan.
    ‘I dunno,’ shrugged Eoin, ‘I’ve worked out the positions and roughly know where I need to be for every move or set-piece. I know I need to pass the ball backwards and not kick the ball upfield like I’m brain-dead.’
    ‘Yeah, well, remember there’s a limited number of things that can happen at full-back,’ explained Alan, ‘so concentrate on watching the ball, going for the high-kicks in your area, and passing the ball back as soon as you’re tackled. And get yourself in position to tackle them when they’re on the attack.’
    ‘Yes, coach,’ said Eoin, ‘and make sure I cover that useless right winger!’ before a pillow flew across the dorm in his direction.
    He ducked successfully and laughed as Alan scrambled around looking for more ammunition.
    With that the room went dark and the cry of ‘lights out!’ came along the corridor. The young rugby coach and his pupil chuckled as they hit their beds. Tomorrow would tell just how good a coach and student they were.

C HAPTER 8
    S aturday morning was cold, as autumn started to turn into winter. The crisp brown and red leaves that were scattered everywhere around the grounds had started to become a slippery mulch. The Castlerock boarders changed into their kit as soon as breakfast was over, and strolled across to join their teammates at the changing rooms.
    Mr Carey was studying his clipboard when Eoin and his pals entered.
    ‘Good morning, boys,’ he said, ‘take a seat there and we’ll go through our plans.’
    ‘Who are we playing, sir?’ asked Rory.
    ‘St Ignatius College. They’re not a bad team,’ said Mr Carey. ‘Their Junior Cup Team beat ours last year and they have this Australian guy coaching them. They look a little bit bigger than you guys, so let’s make sure we keep it simple. Rory, you captain the team today, and therest of you just remember what we’ve been doing these past few weeks. You’re a good team and I want to see you putting points on the board.’
    The fifteen players – and the five miserable-looking replacements who would have to spend the game shivering on the touchline, waiting for the call – headed out to the rugby field where their opponents were waiting.
    Carey hadn’t been wrong about their relative size – St Ignatius’s had at least four players taller than Lofty O’Flynn, Castlerock’s so-called ‘giant’ second row.
    ‘The bigger they are the harder they fall,’ said Rory to the pack as they waited for Harry Deacon to kick-off for Castlerock.
    Once the ball was lifted into the air, St Ignatius’s giants came charging forward and, with a well-drilled move, the first to the ball leapt high and snatched it from the air. The rest of the pack formed a protective group around the catcher and they started to move forwards.
    ‘That’s a maul,’ said Alan to Eoin, who was a few yards away. ‘The guy with the ball is still on his feet – our forwards have to stop him or they’ll come straight to our line.’
    After about