By
Norman Freeman

What an unusual story! This fellow found himself relegated to the sub's bench after a falling out with the manager. Yet it turned out to be one of the best things ever happened to him.

This player, whom we'll call Liam, was pulling on a pair of protective gloves one evening before training when the manager, a cross sort of fellow, came over to him. He nodded at the gloves: "Listen to me. You're far too careful of yourself. You're holding back.”

Liam flung back at him angrily:"Look. I spend most of my day sitting in front of a computer. When I got my finger broken it cost me a lot of bother at work. I lost money as well. That's why I'm careful.”

The manager stalked away, saying nothing. But from then on Liam found himself on the subs bench, even though he had been a very good corner forward. Liam wasn't pleased about it but he didn't let it bother him. He wasn't the only sub and he still enjoyed the hurling, the companionship and the training.

He found that being on the bench allowed him to observe some of the goings-on. The manager paced up and down the sideline in bad temper during a game. Sometimes the man's lips tightened and he moved them up and down rapidly like a squirrel gnawing on a nut. At other times he closed his right hand tightly, put the folded forefinger into his mouth and bit on it.

Then there was the tension between one of the mentors and the manager.
“If you don't make a change we'll lose the match," growled the mentor
“Don't be talking to me," snapped the manager.
“You're too busy talking to yourself.”

Liam noticed the maor uisce crouched on the sideline, eyes following the play, waiting for a signal from a thirsty player. Obviously the maor had his own kind of thirst because he used put his head into his down into his bulky anorak, take a small bottle out of the inside pocket, cradle it in his big paw and raise it quickly to his lips.

He watched the grey-haired hurley-man running his rough, calloused hands up and down the pristine white ash of the new hurleys. One day this man, whose missing front teeth gave him a comic appearance, grinned at Liam and said: "It's like caressing the white thighs of a woman.”

Then there were the rows over sideline balls, with the rival managers shouting at the linesmen. This often led to angry words and dark hateful looks between them.

The most satisfying thing for Liam was that being on the bench allowed him to observe and then to get to know the new physiotherapist. She was a stunning girl, with a warm bubbly personality and she proved to be great at her work. All the players admired her and some adored her. Even the elderly chairman was seen looking at her longingly from under his grey, bushy eyebrows.

When she sat or knelt on the sideline Liam was able to admire her shapely figure, emphasised by her tight dark tracksuit. A few times he found himself sitting beside her and they chatted amiably.

She carried all her equipment of sprays, ointments, braces, bandages in a designer grip. At one tough match Orla had occasion to run onto the field several times to help injured players. Her grip was left along the side-line.

Then, when all the attention was on a goal-mouth scramble, Liam noticed a youngish fellow coming along the sideline with the head down. Next thing this guy deftly leaned down, picked up Orla's grip and walked away quickly.

Liam rose and chased after him and almost caught him at one of the sideline gates. The fellow dropped the grip and ran. Unfortunately for him he ran right into the arms of a Garda. It turned out he was a leading member of the thieving community.

Orla's keys and purse with money and credit cards were in the grip. She was so thankful to Liam that she invited him to her apartment for a meal. It was crammed with equipment, including a massage table and an exercise machine as well as medical tapes and bandages, spray cans and other such items. She was just setting up in business.

Liam was much taken by her and he said: "Look Orla, if you like I'll design a website for you.”

She leaned forward and gave him a brief kiss : "That'd be great. You're a star.”

When it appeared on the Internet everyone on the team was talking about it. It featured the lovely Orla in a skimpy vest, leaning forward with her two hands massaging a fellow's bare back he lay face-down in boxer shorts on a table. The man, of course, was Liam himself, with an impish grin on his face.

It was soon known that they were an 'item'. He was envied by many of the players and male members of the club. But his good fortune didn't stop there. When he was telling her about all the things he had seen on the sideline she said: "Why don't you write a short script about it? The local radio station might use it.”

He did it, disguising names of course. The sports editor was delighted with this humorous insert during half time at a match. It proved to be very popular and Liam was asked to develop the idea and record several to be used in the coming weeks.

This in turn led to a fellow who performed comic acts in local pubs contacting him with the idea of a double act, with the two of them pretending to be rival managers. They worked on a script, rehearsed it and then tried in out one night in a hotel. It turned out to be very entertaining.

They came out on the floor space, shook hands and then began to pace up and down, passing one another, pretending the match was under way and looking out onto the field of play, shouting at the players. Inevitably they clashed over line balls and frees and started to trade insults. Sharp wit and satire came to the fore. They raised a lot of laughs. When the act finished there was loud and prolonged applause. People were heard to say: "They're every bit as good as 'd'Unbelieveables.' ”

One night Liam's boss at the IT company was in the audience. He reckoned Liam's flair could be used to illustrate how the company was developing ideas and new approaches in the IT field. He promoted Liam to a new position and now has him working on a presentation to be made to meetings in Strasbourg and Geneve.

Then the bad-tempered team manager had to resign after putting out a disc in his back in a careless accident. Apparently he was strutting about on his brother's farm, not looking where he was going, and fell backwards over a Vietnamese Pot-Bellied Pig.

The new manager immediately re-installed Liam at corner forward. In the dressing room one lad pointed at him and said to the others: “Didn't this fella do well being a sub. Now he's kept busy, between Orla, going round Europe and a career in show-business.”