Maybe an Irish Messi is just around the corner

WHEN I was 15-years-old or so I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to go on a school trip to Barcelona.

But before we felt any sand between our toes or stood in the shadow of the Sagrada Família, the spectacular, unfinished modernist cathedral by Gaudí, the journey almost ended in the damp school hall. Summoned to a meeting on the eve of our planned departure we were told the ferry company had gone on strike.

We either leave in a couple of hours taking a different, circuitous route to our sunny destination or we don’t go at all, lads? Puff! 25 teenage boys squeeze through the swinging double doors and sprint home to grab a gear bag.