Farewells - Part & Parcel of Brussels Life

In my early days here I was playing for FC Irlande’s third team. It offered me a great social outlet in a city which I was struggling to crack. Every Saturday we would play in the league and follow-up with a session that would run well into Sunday. John Clifford and Loughlin were my two main drinking buddies. Loughlin moved on first. On his last night out with us, he went off to the toilet and we never saw him again. No goodbyes but that was him to a tee. John moved on soon after.

I remember saying to Bull how disappointing it was and he looked at me like he didn’t give a shit. I soon realised that after 10 years in Brussels he had become a bit detached from situations like that. He’s seen so many people come and go from Brussels that he had to switch off a bit from it.

I can do it now too. Its Brussels life and you just accept it. Lads leave, lads arrive. As time goes on you tend to attach yourself more to those who are more towards the ‘lifer’ profile. Still, you do share good times with lads here and it’s always a bit sad to see them go.

In the last month, Marty Brennan departed. I dubbed him ‘The Fridge’ after the Chicago Bears linebacker Walter Peyton. Marty moved better than The Fridge in fairness and probably hit harder too. Any night he arrived in the gym, we’d all scatter to avoid the shame of lifting our baby weights. Quality footballer, sound man, disastrous dress sense.

Diarmuid Laffan leaves on Saturday. I remember when Shane Ryan emailed me one day and told me he had a new lad. Shane’s enthusiasm is unrivalled. He told me he had a Rugby player for me. Captained Blackrock to a Senior Cup & Ireland in a World Cup. I thought, oh jesus, how will we fit him in. But Shane assured me that ‘he’s not like that’.

He was vocal the first night but in a mature and positive way. He had good feet, good hands and a wicked turn of pace. Laffan blew every stereotype out of the water in his time here. The way he bought into the whole Belgium G.A.A. thing was phenomenal when you consider what he achieved in rugby.

He added a lot in terms of his input into warm-ups, speed work and gym work. He leaves a few funny stories behind him too. The one about him throwing a coke bottle at the wall in a rage after the first football tournament cause he was so pumped up. His fondness of drinking in Belgian cities, getting the first train back to Brussels, falling asleep and ending up in Germany didn’t rare its head just once. I thought he’d kill Johnny O down in the Ardennes when we were lost, hungry and thirsty. Would have been some scrap. We won’t forget his dad either. Let’s just say he’s his father’s son!

On the field I’ll remember him for his tremendous work-rate and his like for the direct route to goal. The stand-out day for him was down in Lux. Despite all his efforts, it just wasn’t falling for him for a lot of the day. To achieve what he has in sport, you need a bit of mental strength. He rose again that day and helped push us over the line.

The last of the trio this month is Ciaran Hudson. I picked him up from his temporary accommodation back in February ’09 to show him around. First impressions? Let’s just say I thought he was a bit alternative. Spot on!

He was a great addition in the last year and a half and was always a great man to have a few deep thinking pints with or for some random comments at training and matches. His hat, his bald head, his beard; all memorable.

There are too many stories to re-tell. The day he fell over the fence by the lakes in Place Flagey. When he turned around to me during a game and told me he didn’t agree with a move I made. Jesus, when he disappeared before the final in the Kilmacud tournament to buy cans. Or in Maastricht when he hurt his back in the warm-up of the first game and buggered off into town for the day.

On the field, I’ll remember him for his marauding runs out of defence. We needed his height in the full-back line which curtailed him a bit but when he went forward he was an effective overlap. Hudson offered something different on and off the pitch, a quality I’ve maybe only come to appreciate in people in the last couple of years.

I’ll have to stop now. I’m getting emotional!! Maybe this place has not frozen my heart yet. We’ll miss them, as we miss all those that have already left. We may or may not cross paths again. If we do, you can be sure it will be one of those seamless transitions into lively conversation. The times we all spend together are memorable and won’t be forgotten.