An adventurer and a rogue. There was only only one Nick Schuster...

HE was magical and had a great sense of justice as well as a sense of the ridiculous. He hated to see people sad and would do whatever it took to raise their spirits. He was a lovable rogue who played practical jokes on his unsuspecting mother, delighting in frightening the daylights out of her.

Niccolai Schuster, known as Nick to his friends and relations, had brought nothing but joy to his family from the moment he was born, 21 years, four months and 15 days ago.

He was simply ‘so, so special’ and yesterday his parents, John and Graziella and younger brother Alexei shared their memories and emotions with the crowd of several hundred gathered at the Church of the Three Patrons in Rathgar for his funeral Mass.

Lasting almost two hours, it was a service filled with uplifting music and stories of mischief and adventure, reflecting the life and personality of the fun-loving 21-year- old UCD student who died last week in Berkeley.

He was sports mad and adored soccer, his favourite team was Bayern Munich and yesterday dozens of his friends were wearing the bright red top in his honour. But he also loved rugby and was hugely proud of his little brother’s achievements on the pitch playing for their school St Mary’s. He had, his father told us, attended every single one of Alexei’s games last year, cheering madly from the sidelines.

Several years ago Nick and his father John had co-managed and coached the transition year soccer team, a duty Nick had taken with tremendous seriousness. And despite being manager, John was left in no doubt about who was really in charge.

‘He fired me three times,’ he told a laughing congregation. ‘But had to keep reinstating me when he realised that no one else wanted the job.’

They were an extremely close family. The brothers had been best friends who loved to hang out together, running across pitches being chased by stewards, driving around in golf carts, not always with permission.

In the last couple of years he had grown even closer to his mother, often spending hours with her in her office at their home in Terenure as she worked. He would regale her with stories of nights out with the lads while playing soccer on his PlayStation.

He was a messer, but a lovable one. He had not, his father explained, been a straight-A student in school. But once in college, studying history and politics, he had knuckled down and earned honours results in his exams.

Alexei told how a teacher at school had recently presented him with a docket for misbehaviour.

But as the teacher passed it to him there was a noticeable glint in the eye. ‘They said to me: “The last one of these I gave was to your brother,”’ explained Alexei. ‘For some reason I was bursting with pride.’

Nick adored to travel and had already seen a lot of the world. One of the family’s favourite photos of him, the one used on the front cover of yester- day’s Mass booklet, was a picture of him with his arms wide open in glee, standing by a hotel’s rooftop pool in Bangkok.

It was a pose that typified Nick, always open to adventure and opportunities and making new friends. It was one of his most admirable attributes, his father explained.

Towards end of his eulogy, John Schuster took the time to address the parents who might now worry even more about letting their children travel the world. ‘Let your kids go. Do not let this incident deter you,’ he said. ‘Let them have freedom, it will give them life experience.’

He told how Nick had confided in him that he planned to spend six months in South America once he had graduated college. And he said that had Nick survived the balcony accident, he would have still gone on the trip, even if he had been left with just one leg. And his father would have been happy to see him go. His wife echoed the sentiment to the gathered congregation. ‘One of the easiest and most important things to give a child is roots,’ she said. ‘The most difficult thing to give them is wings. They are equally important and John and I gave Niccolai both.’

There were also strong words for the authorities in California. ‘Leave no stone unturned in this investigation, this cannot happen again.’

STANDING at the altar, with his mother’s arm around him and his father clutching his right hand in support, Alexei Schuster told in no uncertain terms how special his brother had been to him. ‘I can only hope to be half the man you were,’ he said, his voice breaking. ‘That people talk about me the way they are about you. Nick, I love you, I love you, I love you...’

The first dozen or so front pews of the church were filled with young men, most just teenage boys, all wearing colourful sports jerseys.

As Alexei finished and turned to his parents to embrace them, these devastated friends and classmates, hung their heads in silence, overcome with grief. The kind of which they are too young to have already faced in their short lives. The Schusters returned to their seats, first stopping at Nick’s coffin to kiss it, and the congregation rose in a standing ovation.

Mass over, Nick’s coffin, draped with several sports scarf, was led out of the church by priests and a friend bearing a large St Mary’s flag. His father and brother were joined by his closest pals to help shoulder him down the aisle and into the waiting hearse.

The choir, made up of parents of St Mary’s pupils, sang Time To Say Goodbye, followed by the St Mary’s College Anthem. The boys then struck up an impromptu rendition of their own song in honour of their fallen friend: ‘There’s only one Nick Schuster, one Nick Schuster...’