When I grow up, I’m going to play Hurling for ... GALWAY
You step out of the tunnel. Banners ripple through the air while the crowd chants your name. You’re on the pitch … at Croke Park!
Are you Galway’s biggest fan?
Do you dream of being their next star player?
Then this story is for you!
When I grow up,
I’m going to play H urling for ...
Y A W L A G
€7.95
ISBN 978-1-78921-013-2
9
781789
210132
www.hometownworld.co.uk
Written by Gemma Cary Illustrated by Tatio Viana
When I grow up,
I’m going to play Hurling for ...
Y A W L GA
Written by Gemma Cary Illustrated by Tatio Viana and Adrian Bijloo Designed by Sarah Allen First published by HOMETOWN WORLD in 2018 Hometown World Ltd 7 Northumberland Buildings Bath BA1 2JB
www.hometownworld.co.uk Follow us @hometownworldbooks
Copyright © Hometown World Ltd 2015 ISBN 978-1-78921-013-2 All rights reserved Printed in China HTW_PO201807
g row up, I n e h W
I’m going to play Hurling for...
Y A W L GA
“Out you go,” said Mam, and the screen went black.
“
N
o!”
wailed Jack.
“I was 3 points up!”
“Very good,” said Mam. “Now go and play outside.” Jack glanced at the window and saw their cat, Furball, scowling in the rain.
“But ...”
Soon Jack found himself outside, standing in a puddle. What was he meant to do out here? His sliotar was lost and there was no one to play with.
“I know!” he said, bounding indoors. The dripping Furball saw his chance and darted into the kitchen.
“Furball!” howled Mam.
“Nooooo!”
On the back of his bedroom door, Jack found what he wanted: his
Galway jersey.
For some reason, he always felt more confident wearing this jersey, and he usually played better, too. He put it on and instantly felt happier.
GAILLIMH
He ran with the ball through the defensive washing line, like his heroes from Galway.
Back outside, it had stopped raining. Jack grabbed an old fuzzy tennis ball and his hurley and practised high striking against the fence.
“Yes!�
He scooped the ball up off the ground and struck it first time to score a terrific point.
! ” w w w O “
squealed old Mrs Murphy, who had been busy digging up carrots.
“My bottom!”
Just then, Jack heard the familiar thump of a car door.
“Hello, Mrs Murphy,” called Jack’s dad, appearing in the back garden. Mrs Murphy glowered and speared the tennis ball with her hefty pitchfork. “Sorry,” said Jack,
trying not to laugh.
“Hello, Superstar!� Dad held out a bag and Jack peered inside. It was a brand-new sliotar! Not only that, it was the same sliotar as they play with in the
All Ireland Final.
“Cool!”
said Jack. “We’re celebrating,” said Dad, “because this weekend is the first round of the championship.”
oooos
Who
h!
The pair were soon having their best-ever game of hurling. They seemed to play for hours! When they eventually stopped for tea, Dad said, “I’ve spoken to the Galway hurling bainisteoir and they’re having a trial tomorrow. He said you can come along, if you want to.”
“Really?” said Jack.
“Deadly!”
Next day, father and son arrived at the pitch. The changing rooms bustled with children in blue and red bibs, nervously waiting to show off their skills.
Out on the pitch, stles whi oted to
d an
sli ot a
rs f
lew everywhere.
ed nt
Players spr i
jo and passed, stl d. ed an e p d ju m
The bainisteoir soon signalled for Jack to join a game and Jack raced over. He cheered when others made good breaks and encouraged players who missed scores. When one boy fell over, Jack helped him up.
But secretly, Jack was worried about his own performance. When the half-time whistle blew, he had barely touched the sliotar, let alone scored a point.
Someone near the dug-out caught Jack’s eye. It was his dad, waving madly. Jack jogged over and his dad pulled the Galway jersey from a gearbag.
“Wear this under your bib, Son. You always play brilliantly with this on.”
Jack did as his dad said. As he sprinted back onto the pitch, he imagined he was stepping out of the tunnel at Croke Park. Maroon-and-white banners rippled through the air while the crowd chanted the team’s name.
All of a sudden, Jack was ch! the best player on the pit
e scored h lf a h d n co e s e h t In ts, three incredible poin score. e n o n a h t e r o m t o while no one else g s ... a w e H . y p p a h s a w e He was confident. H
A E N K I A L L L G N S I T Y A A R L ! P . ..
At the end of the trial, the bainisteoir called out the names of players who had made the final panel: “Cian, James, Sean Og, Alan, Colm ...” Everyone clapped after each name. “Peter, Ciaran, Maurice, Thomas, Daniel ...”
Jack stared at his feet. Maybe he hadn’t made the team after all. “John, Liam, Sam, Michael ...”
“And, f inally,” said the bainisteoir, “one young man
stood out as the kindest, friendliest lad on the pitch.
And he sure can play!”
The bainisteoir turned to Jack.
“How would you like to be our captain?”
o h o a oo!” a a W “
Jack leaped into the air, waving his arms in excitement. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” said the bainisteoir, and everyone laughed.
Dad couldn’t stop grinning. He praised Jack all the way home. “You were amazing, Son! Unstoppable. A real champion!” “Cheers, Dad,” Jack replied. “I can’t wait for my first match, because one day I will lift the Liam McCarthy Cup.”
“Because when I grow up, I’m going to be
Galway Hurling’s next All Star!”
And guess who else is going to play for
Galway?
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