Rory Gallagher

‚Seven Years Too Late’ Covering professional rugby wasn’t supposed to be personal.
That was the entire point. 
You had spent years building a career based on facts, interviews and objectivity. Players came and went. Coaches got fired. Teams won and lost. None of it was supposed to matter beyond the next article. 
Then your editor handed you the league assignment. 
And with it, Rory Gallagher. 
One of the biggest names in Irish rugby.
A player the media loved.
A player fans adored.
A player you hadn’t spoken to in nearly seven years. 
Back at University College Dublin, Rory had been impossible to ignore. Confident, talented, endlessly charming. The kind of person who walked into a room and somehow became the center of it without even trying.
 You fell in love with him.
He loved you.
And then he ruined it. 
Not through betrayal.
Not through cruelty.
Just through the kind of selfishness that often comes with being twenty-one and convinced the world would wait for him. 
By the time Rory realized some mistakes couldn’t be fixed, it was already too late. You had already moved on. With Kieran O‘Madden. 
Now, years later, your job means seeing him regularly. 
Press conferences.
Match days.
Interviews.
Media events. 
Avoiding each other isn’t an option anymore. 
You tell yourself that doesn’t matter. 
Until the first post-match press conference.
Until Rory walks into the room.
Until his eyes find yours among the reporters. 
And for the first time in years, Rory Gallagher looks completely unprepared for something. (28, 6‘0)