David Sneyd

NERVOUS JOKES GO some way to break the tension.

Dylan Mulhern, Sean O’Rourke and John Mifsud arrive at Tolka Park on the Saturday morning after Shelbourne’s final Premier Division home game.

Kitman John Watson is already drying and sorting the jerseys, shorts, and socks on washing lines in a backroom.

One of his colleagues is packing up the containers for the women’s team ahead of their Women’s National League decider away to Wexford later in the evening.

Mulhern, Mifsud and O’Rourke catch up behind the goal at the Drumcondra End.

The photographer sets up near the middle of the pitch before leading the three 21-year-olds towards the centre circle, where they proudly pose with a Shelbourne jersey.

“Some people might think we’re the new signings,” O’Rourke smiles.

“They’re in trouble if we are,” Mifsud laughs.

That was the dream for all three when they became teammates on Shels’ U16 team in the Dublin District Schoolboy League ahead of the 2016/17 season.

It never materialised, but the bonds formed over that campaign together remain intact, strengthened further by the tragedy and heartbreak of losing their teammate Exause ‘Izzy’ Dezu in the final game of that year.

“Izzy was his football name, we all called him Exause,” James Shannon, his former tutor at Holy Family Community School, Ratchoole, Co. Dublin, later explains to The42.

Izzy was in Fifth Year when he collapsed on a pitch in the AUL Complex. Despite the best efforts of some of those in attendance, including a retired member of the fire service, an off duty nurse, and member of the emergency services who heard the call over the radio nearby, attempts to save Izzy’s life using a defibrillator were unsuccessful.

He was pronounced dead later that same evening at Beaumont Hospital.

It was 12 December, 2017.

Izzy was 16 years old.

Izzy during his time at Shelbourne U16s.

In the weeks that followed, tributes were paid by President Michael D Higgins as well as numerous prominent figures throughout Irish society, and sport.

At his funeral, there were guards of honour formed by his Shelbourne and former Cherry Orchard teammates, as well as members of the soccer, Gaelic football, athletics, basketball, and rugby teams which he was part of in school.

“He was a gentle giant who cared for everybody around him,” Shannon recalls. “He still holds the Leinster Community Schools’ 800-metre record from when he was a Second Year. It was an incredible time of 1 minute 59 seconds.

“Soccer was his number one but he could have got an athletics’ scholarship for college too.”

Next month marks the fifth anniversary of Izzy’s death, and this weekend Shelbourne will play in the Aviva Stadium looking to win the FAI Cup for the eighth time in their history.

It is impossible not to think whether he might have progressed to be a part of Damien Duff’s squad. His death has, of course, left an immeasurable void for his family, while only now some of his closest friends feel comfortable to share their own grief.

The jersey that Dylan Mulhern, Sean O’Rourke and John Mifsud hold as one in the middle of Tolka Park has ‘Izzy 9’ on the back.

His memory is also one they refuse to let go of.

The three young men have tattoos in honour of their late friend and, in the years that have followed, have continued their own informal support group for one another.

The texts, calls and chats at various moments – to celebrate, mourn and share – are sporadic.

Sean (left), John (centre) and Dylan (right) hold a jersey in tribute to Izzy. Tom Maher / INPHO Tom Maher / INPHO / INPHO

Mulhern was Izzy’s strike partner in attack, O’Rourke was the skipper in central defence, while the ever-self-deprecating Mifsud adds – “I was the all-action No.8, whenever I could get a game.”

The three young men come inside and form a circle to sit and chat.

David Sneyd: How did that season start seeing as it was a relatively new team put together?

John Mifsud: The whole team clicked really quickly and it was the best feeling I’d ever had in a dressing room, until what happened.

Dylan Mulhern: It wasn’t just the training and the matches, we would go for food together, we would meet up in town and spend most weekends with each other.

Sean O’Rourke: Chicko (Mifsud, Sean’s father) really helped to get a good group of lads together but no one really knew what to expect.

Dylan: Shels were always near the bottom. We’d get hammered by Cherry Orchard or St Kevin’s and then if we beat Cabo (Cabinteely) away, it was like we won the Champions League. I remember we lost 5-1 to Shamrock Rovers when they had Gavin Bazunu in goal one year.

John: Izzy had signed from Cherry Orchard and was originally up with the U17s for the new National League team, but he dropped down to us.

Sean: He was so effective, he was over six foot.

Dylan: But he wasn’t acting like one of those lads who dropped down. He was straight in and involved with us all. He wanted to be a part of it and he wanted to win.

John: He was the nicest person, he wouldn’t harm anyone. He would drive past players on the pitch but off it he was gentle and wanted to have fun. He used to get a couple of buses over to training with us and he would never complain, he never missed training.

Sean: He was a big character but he needed the arm around his shoulder too. He could drop the head sometimes and you would always want to encourage him because he worked so hard. He wanted that bit of love.

Dylan: He could overpower people on the pitch and was so fast.

John: I think you were the only one faster than him.

Dylan: Really?

Sean: I think that’s the nicest thing John has ever said about Dylan.

Dylan: Every time I play a match now and we might have two up front, I always think of Izzy. Stuff that happens on a pitch, I think how he would do it and what he might be thinking because we always seemed to know where each other were.

Sean: The best way I can describe that season and what we were doing, it was like when Leicester City won the Premier League. Whenever teams would come to the AUL, no matter who it was, we had that feeling of ‘you’re not beating us’. We believed we had the ability but it was more because we all played for each other, it wasn’t just turning up to play. It felt like a family for us and Izzy was such a big part of that.

John: I was in and out of the team and whenever I had the head down, Izzy would be the one to realise it and come over.

Dylan: He didn’t want anyone to feel down. He was the one who would try and make you feel better by letting you know he was there.

John: He really was the centrepiece of the team. The week before Izzy died, my grandad died. At our first match back, me and my Dad got out of the car and Izzy was the first one over to us to give a hug and say how sorry he was.

…

David Collins sits in his office at the south Dublin school where he has worked at coaching football for 20 years.

It is a mid-term break but still the playing grounds are packed with children enjoying the various sports camps.

Weeks like this remind the former Cherry Orchard stalwart of a life previously dedicated to schoolboy football following his own career in England; signing for Liverpool from the Dublin club before playing with Wigan Athletic and Oxford.

He remembers the school weeks off when Izzy and the others on his Orchard team, including his son Nathan who is now an Ireland international playing for Wolves in the Premier League, would still arrive in Ballyfermot for lunch on The Lawns and hours of football.

“He was 10 or 11 – straight away, you loved him. He would have that little bit of bravado like so many kids would have, but he was such a soft, kind lad,” Collins says.

“There are always one or two players you have who you think will go across and have a career. There are others who will be capable of a career here in Ireland. For others, playing football was saving their life.

“Izzy worked so hard, he had talent, but he had a work ethic like I have never seen, he would have made a great career with the right manager guiding him.

“He was the type of player who would always be the players’ player of the year. He might not have been aesthetically pleasing on the eye but he had a great chance of making a career because of how he worked.

“I remember the first time I met him I just told him to go home, kick a ball off a couch, a wall, just practice, practice, practice. And he did.”

Sean (left), Dylan (centre) and John (right) at Tolka Park. Tom Maher / INPHO Tom Maher / INPHO / INPHO

Approaching U13s, Eoin Clarkin, now Arsenal Ladies strength and conditioning coach, began educating Izzy and his Cherry Orchard teammates on improving things like running technique.

“He bought into it,” Collins says. “He had that desire and knew what he wanted to be. I really believe as he got older, people would appreciate what he did for a team and he would have thrived in an environment when you needed people alongside you who you could rely on.

“Purely by his heart and desire alone he really could have been something.”

That sense of excitement about what was to come was evident the day before his death, when he still got involved with his PE lesson of indoor football with Mr Shannon but still found the time between his games to chat wut him about the league decider with St Kevin’s Boys.

“He came up to me and was telling me for the whole class about the big game and how he had been signed up for Shelbourne U17s the next year. It was typical Exause, he was just so happy.”

There are times when Keith Bruen’s voice sounds as if it will taper off, but the memories of Izzy are too joyful to completely shut down.

The Dubliner is 52 now and had been coaching with Shels for 10 years before the night of the teenager’s passing.

Bruen stuck around for another season afterwards, along with fellow coach Chicko, and ensured that the club provided heart screening in Tolka Park for all of the kids.

But eventually he was worn down by the grief and trauma. Bruen was one of those who rushed onto the pitch first to try to assess the situation.

“I just can’t go near schoolboy football now. I don’t want to. I don’t want to get that close to it, that fear of thinking it could happen again hasn’t gone away,” he admits.

“I just don’t have the heart. My own wife said I should have talked about it. It’s five years now. Maybe I should have spoken to someone sooner because still that hurt, and anxiety is there.”

Dylan Mulhern, Sean O’Rourke and John Mifsud are still talking in a quiet room at Tolka Park.

At times it is tough, their eyes redden and voices soften, but together they continue to talk. It has helped them throughout the last five years as they reflect on the events of that night.

Current Shelbourne player Brian McManus was in action for the opposition, so too Ross Tierney who is at Motherwell after coming through with Bohemians in the League of Ireland. Dawson Devoy (now MK Dons) was another in action for Kevin’s while Shels forward Jack Moylan was one of the many in attendance watching some of his friends.

From left to right: Izzy with Sean, John, and Dylan while (below) in a team picture after winning the League Cup.

Dylan: We were always on Pitch 7 out in the AUL but that fucking night, it was a Tuesday, it was under the lights and we were on one of the main pitches that had the cage around it.

John: It was absolutely freezing. I remember seeing Izzy coming over with this big, huge beige scarf wrapped around him. The thing was huge. I was slagging him, ‘What are you wearing?’. He was laughing, ‘It’s cold, it’s cold’.

Sean: ‘Cause I was in the FAI school, we sat out training and stuff during the day. I was having the craic with Dawson [Devoy] cause he was going to be playing for Kevin’s. We were nervous because it was a big match, but we were looking forward to it. Usually for our matches out in the AUL, we would have loads of space to warm up but because of the change of pitch, we had a little corner down the bottom right. It felt different, like it was a bit eerie or something. It honestly felt like we shouldn’t be playing.

Dylan: Nothing felt right at all.

John: I know it’s easy to say it now after what happened but even in school during the day, I felt weird. I felt as if something was about to happen. I didn’t feel right all day.

John: When I saw Izzy fall near the halfway line I shouted over to see if he was alright and could he get up.

Dylan: I thought it was his hamstring. I was only a few yards away, calling for the ball off him. He lost it and then he fell. I make enough mistakes myself not to be drilling lads out of it so I wanted to encourage. I went over to him and shouted over straight away that someone needed to come on.

John: It felt like everything was going on forever.

Sean: There was panic, I remember hearing ‘Get an ambulance, get an ambulance, get an ambulance’.

John: What sticks with me is hearing Keith by Izzy’s side – ‘Don’t close your eyes, please don’t close your eyes, wake up Izzy, wake up’. I can never forget that.

Sean: We all went back into the dressing room together. It is the worst memory I have. We all had our heads in our hands crying. There were parents coming in but we wanted to be together and I remember they were told to fuck off. We just wanted to be together.

Dylan: I took off my jersey and pulled it over my face leaving the pitch because I was crying. I knew. I had mates there and didn’t want them to see me crying or worrying.

Sean: We saw the ambulance lights then.

John: We all left in our kits, and I was in the car coming home with Dylan ’cause my Dad (Chicko) and Keith went to the hospital. His Dad just kept saying ‘Fuck sake, fuck sake, fuck sake’. Dylan lost the head with him a bit.

Dylan: When we left the AUL, we were all trying to be positive in the group chat. I remember we all said we’d take the next day off school and meet up to go and see Izzy in the hospital.

John: My Mam got the call from my Dad that night to say Izzy had died. When she told me, I texted in to all the lads to tell them. I can’t really remember much else then.

Sean: I was down stairs with my Mam and Dad in the kitchen when you put the message in. My Dad broke down on the floor crying. I was in shock, I think.

John: The next day, my Mam said to get all the lads to my house. We spent the night together. Most of the team were able to come.

Dylan: Yeah, we all slept in his house.

Sean: John’s arse near my face the way we were sleeping. I don’t think we left for about a week.

John: We spent most of it talking and chatting about Izzy. We were eating pizza and on the PlayStation. It kind of all felt unbelievable still at that point, but it was better being all together.

…

Keith Bruen and Chicko Mifsud went to the hospital with Izzy, and they saw the pain felt by the family first-hand, not to mention the boys on the team who had counselling sessions arranged soon after to try to help them come to terms with the tragedy.

“His mother told us at the funeral how the money we gave him, only a couple of euro here and there for food or some chocolate after training, he always was brought home to her. He never touched it or spent it on himself,” Bruen recalls.

“That was his nature, that was his character. Izzy had a glow, he was mischievous at times, but he always took advice, he always listened, and everyone warmed to him.”

David Collins might not have been Izzy’s coach any longer, but as the news filtered through the loss was no less painful.

“Even now, I’d be at a match and something would happen to make me think of Izzy. Something a player might do, something that might happen, and I would think ‘That was Izzy, that was Izzy’. My own son would get in touch randomly too because it was a life-changing event.

“It was all ahead of Izzy. His smile, the happiness he brought everyone, the work ethic. He had fun and he had a desire to achieve. Izzy was one of those people you wanted alongside you.”

At his former school in Rathcoole, a framed Shelbourne jersey with Izzy’s name hangs in the PE hall. In James Shannon’s office, he has a picture of a smiling Izzy preparing for a night out with friends, in a frame with a love heart and the words ‘Forever Young’ alongside the date of his passing.

Every year, the teachers now play a Sixth-Year selection in the Exause ‘Izzy’ Dezu Cup. In the League of Ireland season after his death, Shels also had his name embroidered on their jerseys.

As time has passed, life for so many naturally continues, but it does not go on without Izzy’s memory.

The various video clips, social media interactions and photos that Dylan Mulhern, Sean O’Rourke and John Mifsud still have help to remind them of the small moments that brought so much joy.

On his birthday and anniversary, they will meet and visit his grave, and as their own lives enter a different stage of adulthood, the impact Izzy had stays with them.

Sean: You would hear other people say it about stuff, but not a day goes by in my own mind where something doesn’t make me stop and think of Izzy.

Dylan: It’s so true. I still play football [in the Leinster Senior League] and a few weeks ago a lad went down with a bang on the head. It was concussion, but he was lying on the ground and I was thinking ‘Fuck, not again’.

John: The whole thing with Christian Eriksen too (when he collapsed in similar circumstances at Euro 2020) just brings it all back. It makes you think how he got through it, if only Izzy could have had a miracle happen for him.

Sean: I don’t know about you lads but my big regret is not speaking at the funeral. We were asked but we were all in bits.

John: I would do anything to go back and say one sentence about what he meant to us.

Sean: I just still think about his family and how hard it was for them at the time, and what they feel now. It was around Christmas time when Izzy died. For his Mam, she had it without her son, her little boy, like.

Dylan: You deal with the grief in different ways, everyone does, but I didn’t want to push how I was feeling on people.

John: I was the opposite at the start. I wouldn’t stop talking for the first couple of months. I have mates who play GAA. Any chance I got I would be talking about Izzy, what he was like. After a while you kind of feel like people stop listening, they don’t make eye contact, you think ‘no one gives a bollox anymore’. I drifted away from a good few of them, we all stuck together, and a few others gave me a dig out too and would always come for chats. We would talk for hours and hours about football.

Sean (left), Dylan and John (right) stand beside a jersey with Izzy's name stitched under the Shelbourne crest. Tom Maher / INPHO Tom Maher / INPHO / INPHO

Sean: But see that, everyone deals with it in different ways. I know what you mean about drifting away and I do think it’s a good thing how close we are. It definitely helps. We know that if we want to speak about things, we can call and chat and it’s not a problem. Nine times out of 10, they want to chat too and it doesn’t matter who the person is to take the step to have the chat, so long as someone does.

Dylan: I remember you [John] text me before the first anniversary and I was in the bath. We were having that conversation and I was in the bath. But my outlook was changed. I just don’t care about so much small stuff. What people think of me, what people say about me. Life is too short to care about stuff that doesn’t matter.

John: It does help that we can relate to each other.

Sean: Yeah, it takes a weight off knowing there is that common feeling, I think.

John: It’s good that we know we can come to each other and talk. I used to feel so bad asking my parents about it. My Dad (Chicko) gave up coaching after it, it affected him a lot. He only lost his dad the week before Izzy.

Sean: If your head was down, Izzy was always the one to pick it up.

Dylan: Do ye remember the song he would sing before matches?
They all laugh, they know what is coming, and then sing: He’s big, he’s black, he plays in the attack!

Jack: Oh my God! Haha.

Sean: Ah man, he was so funny. Gas.

John: The spinning class we used to do. Izzy in the sauna and jacuzzi – Izzy’s here I’m there sitting in the sauna on the other side. He’s giggling. All I can hear is giggling. It gets louder and then his foot in front of my face. His big fucking feet in my face and giggling at me.

Sean: There would be times you’d be better off playing it to his chest to control it because it was better than his feet.

Dylan: Ah, sure he cleaned me out from a tip off we both went for, pressing the ball and knocked my tooth out.

John: I’d have the lifts with him in the car dropping him back to get a bus and he’d be slagging my Dad in the car telling him I should be playing.

Dylan: So he wasn’t wearing those massive headphones in the car? He used to always wear them with a cable about 10 metres long. Looking back at Facebook chat when I smashed him on FIFA and he had so many excuses for it.

John: That’s what’s good. I have stuff saved on Snapchat, videos I’d forgotten about. Dancing and singing in the dressing room with him, a bit of rapping. There’s a video I found, I sent it to Dylan, of Izzy walking out of training and I’m recording him. I’m whispering ‘Izzy, Izzy, Izzy’. My Dad asks him if he wants a lift. Those moments just spark another memory of him.

Sean: It’s good to have all those memories. I’m really glad we do have them.

John: They can make you upset sometimes but mostly it makes you happy you have them.