Free Little Croker by Joe O'Brien Page B

Danny and he threw his arm around his cousin.
    ‘See!’ he said. ‘Piece of cake. Here’s your bag, I’ve put your clothes in it.’
    Jonathon just smiled. He was feeling a little bit sick with what he had just done, but there was no going back now.
    The atmosphere was buzzing on the coach, as all the boys were excited about their trip. Jimmy sat up at the front with the driver and some parents who had come along to help supervise.
    He spoke into a cordless microphone, ‘Okay lads, settle down. Anyone caught messing will be kicked off the bus!’ chuckled Jimmy. He was in his element.
    ‘Sing us a song, Jimmy?’ shouted Danny.
    Jimmy went red.
    ‘Ah! Go on, Jimmy!’ Danny kept up the pressure.
    ‘Jimmy! Jimmy! Jimmy!’ Danny and all the boys started banging on the head rests of the seats and chanting Jimmy’s name.
    The coach driver looked at Jimmy as if to say, You’d better do something to calm them down.
    Poor Jimmy hadn’t got a hope in hell. Even with his microphone, he had no chance of raising his volume above the sound of eighteen chanting boys.
    Eventually the chanting faded away and all the boys settled down, much to Jimmy’srelief.
    The coach was stopped at traffic lights in the centre of town, when Danny let out an unmerciful roar from down the back.
    ‘There’s Jason Sherlock!’
    All the boys on the left side of the coach leapt up off their seats and wrestled their way to the windows on the right side of the coach.
    Jimmy – who might be expected to be trying to restore order by getting the boys back into their seats – was the first to stick his nose up against a window for a glimpse at the Dublin GAA star getting out of a car across the road.
    The coach driver started to panic as eighteen boys, headed up by Danny, were now banging on the windows, chanting, ‘Jayo! Jayo! Jayo!’
    When Jason Sherlock waved across at the Littlestown Crokes’ players and gave them a big thumbs-up, Danny whipped off his jacket to reveal his Dublin jersey and pinned himself against the window, in respect for one of his all-time heroes.

Chapter 18
A Night in Wexford
    T wo hours after departure, all the passengers and the driver arrived safe and sound at the hotel in Kimuldridge.
    Jonathon’s nerves had settled down and, along with every other boy, he was looking forward to the night ahead, but not quite as much as the match the following morning. It was going to be his big debut!
    Danny, Jonathon and Splinter were sharing a room. The three pals joked and messed and had pillow fights and water fights and danced to the music on Splinter’s I-PAL, getting themselves all hyped up and buzzing for the disco. They were so excited that you’d think that they had never been in a hotel roombefore!
    It’s true to say that Splinter and Danny didn’t have much hotel room experience under their belts, but Jonathon Wilde had been in the best hotels all over the world, and yet no matter how much money his father had splashed out on them, Jonathon thought that this room was the best he’d ever stayed in.
    When the partying was over it was time for the pals to get down to the serious business of showering, tooth brushing and – finally and most importantly – hair gelling.
    It’s said that girls spend more time than boys getting all done up for a night out, but Jimmy must have made at least three trips up to their room to tell them that the disco had started, and still, all three were combing and twiddling and spiking lashings of the magic green gel into their hair.
    Finally Danny, Jonathon and Splinter marched through the doors of the hotel basement disco room. The three of them stopped and stared – they hadn’t expected to see so many girls. There were plenty of local lads too, but four walls were lined with girls.
    ‘Are we dancing?’ asked Jonathon.
    Splinter burst out laughing.
    ‘Get a grip!’ said Danny.
    Jonathon couldn’t understand the hostile reaction to his suggestion. After all, they were at a