Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel Comics, though some of the names I made up. No money is being made off the creation and distribution of this story, and I have no money anyway, so nothing will be gained from litigation.
Author's note: This story marks the beginning of the County Mayo series. Each story in the series will feature a look into the history of Sean, Tom and/or Theresa Cassidy. When you see a story marked as County Mayo, this is the bunch you can expect to appear. The dates and ages used in the series are based on my estimations of the characters' ages as of August 2002. The stories will focus mainly on the events that happened either off-panel or before the characters' first appearances in the comics, though on-panel canon will be repeated at some especially significant points in their backgrounds.
Whackball by Red Monster
It was a cool, blustery day in the autumn of 1959 when two boys on the northwest coast of Ireland played a spirited game of Whackball. They ran around the eastern lawn of Cassidy Keep, where there were trees to be used as goals and no cliffs to let the ball plummet into Clew Bay. The game bore a remarkable resemblance to football, known in America as soccer, but in the absence of conventional sports equipment, the trees' branches were turned into goals. Around the spacious yard they went, kicking up piles of fallen leaves along the way, each trying to kick the ball higher than the other.
Nine-year-old Tom Cassidy, being older, taller, and more experienced than his seven-year-old cousin Sean, was predictably winning.
"Look here, Sean, you've got to kick it up, not just out, or else it'll never get over that branch!" Tom instructed. He took control of the ball, and demonstrated. "See, watch. You get your leg way back here, like this, and then kick it way up!" He brought his right leg in a broad arc to get his foot under the ball, and kicked it over a branch on Sean's side of the field. "Haha, I got a goal!"
"Tom, don't be playing tricks on your cousin like that! You play fair with him, got that?" called Tom's mother, Siobhan Cassidy, as she watched from the front steps of the Keep.
"It's okay, Auntie Siobhan!" laughed Sean, while sprinting over to the tree to get behind the ball again. Though small, he was quick and agile and had a talent for getting around things and into small spaces easily. It was because of this ability, and Tom's instruction, that the older boy was convinced they were playing a fair game. "See, I've got it now!" Sean announced as he ran toward Tom while kicking the ball in front of him.
After just a few steps, Sean kicked the ball so far forward that it came up near Tom, who then kicked it back in his cousin's direction, but just a little to the side. Sean got behind the ball again, hoping to stop it with his hands or chest, but instead, it hit him in the face, knocking him to the ground in a little boy-shaped heap.
Siobhan stood up from the steps with a start. "Sean!" she cried. "Tom, what have I told you?!"
Tom ran to his cousin to help him up, knowing that he'd be whipped soundly and sent to bed without his supper if Sean were hurt. Fortunately, Sean stood up before his aunt got to him. He shook the blow off his face, and immediately went about running after the ball again.
"Oh thank goodness," Siobhan breathed, and walked back to the steps, wrapping her generous Aran cardigan around her as she went. Tom let out a sigh of relief along with his mother, and while he let his guard down in those few seconds, Sean kicked the ball clean over his older cousin's head, scoring a goal into a venerable linden tree.
"Woo-hoo!" he cheered, and the game went on.
After some more running around, slipping in the grass, and wrestling over the ball, Siobhan stood up from the porch. "Let's go inside, boys. It's about to rain."
"But Auntie, it always rains!" Sean protested.
"And your mother and I always make you two come inside, so you won't catch your death!"
"Come on, Sean, Mrs. Bridges has dinner ready by now," said Tom, beckoning his cousin towards the front door.
Tom hadn't always played with Sean in front of Cassidy Keep. As the younger son of a previously noble family, Brian Cassidy had no legal claim on the estate. He brought his new bride Siobhan into a cozy flat in the town nearest to the Keep in 1947, while he worked as a typesetter for the Castlebar Gazette, and Tom was born a few years later. When Siobhan became seriously ill when their son was three years old, Brian's older brother, Liam Cassidy, let Brian move his family into the Keep at the urging of his wife, Mary. After Siobhan recovered, Liam didn't ask them to go back to Castlebar, so Tom continued his childhood in the castle alongside Liam and Mary's toddling son, Sean.
"Good evening, little ones," said their housekeeper, Mrs. Bridges, from the kitchen. "Enjoy your game?"
"Yes, ma'am," Sean said brightly, taking his place at the table.
Sean would one day be in charge of the castle; Tom knew that. He'd heard his Uncle Liam say to his father that Sean was the "rightful air" or something like that. It was hard to believe, though, watching that little boy slurp up his peas. Sean followed Tom around like a puppy, and yet he'd be the one called "Lord Cassidy" when they grew up.
But this was many years off, and it was not the thing to be thinking about at the dinner table, while outside, the sky opened up and drenched the land.