Specky Magee and a Legend in the Making

by Felice Arena

  Specky remained frozen, not even daring to blink.

  ‘And even then, I'm not sure I want you to take a chest mark. TAKE THE BALL OUT IN FRONT—IN YOUR HANDS! I don't care if you drop it, as long as you drop it trying to do the right thing. Take it in the hands. It's harder for the defender to punch the ball away, and it's easier and quicker for you to give off a handball if the ball is already in ya big bloody mitts. Do you understand me?’

  ‘Got it!’ croaked Specky, his heart pumping out of control.

  ‘Right! Off ya go then.’

  Specky's ears were burning as he ran to the back of the group.

  There goes my chance of making the team, he thought, but he soon learned that if every player that Grub Gordan took aside and laid down the law to was disqualified, then there'd be no one left in the team. And it had been good advice.

  Specky felt a little better when Screamer copped a spray from Grub for slipping over during one of the drills.

  ‘What good are ya to anyone on the ground?’ he roared. ‘Weak players go to ground. Don't you be weak on me again!’

  Specky noticed Screamer shaking his head, upset with himself. But Grub wasn't finished.

  ‘Don't take it personally, Johnson. If I didn't care, and didn't think you could play, I wouldn't waste my breath,’ he added, before turning his attention to another player.

  After ninety minutes of some of the most intense and exhaustive training Specky had ever experienced, the session came to an end. Instead of just wandering off to get changed, though, they were all made to do a thorough warm-down session, stretching muscles that Specky didn't even know he had.

  Finally, with the daylight fading and muscles aching, Specky and his teammates made their way back to the change rooms.

  ‘Hey, Magee, where do you think you're going?’

  Specky closed his eyes and thought, what now?

  But he slowly turned to find Brian Edwards, grinning—still with a football in hand.

  ‘I reckon there's still at least twenty-five minutes before the sun goes down. I wouldn't mind doing a bit of extra work on my non-preferred foot, and I reckon you could do with some practice taking those marks in your hands.’

  Specky looked at him, not sure whether he was having a go or not.

  ‘Grub's the best junior coach in the country, mate. We're all lucky to be learning from him. When he speaks, we should all listen. My older brother played in the Victorian Under Fifteen side three years ago, under him. I've known him for a while now. All he wants is for us to be the best players we can be.’

  While Specky could see that many people would think Brian took himself a little too seriously, there was something he liked about him. He was cocky and confident, but not in an arrogant way.

  ‘Come on, we're losing the light. You get up there, about thirty metres away, and just run at me, flat out. I'll try and drill them at your chest and you take them in the hands.’

  Specky jogged the distance and for the next twenty minutes led at Brian until the light disappeared and it was impossible to see.

  ‘I kicked forty-four balls at you,’ said Brian. ‘Six of them missed you altogether, which was my fault, and of the other thirty-eight, you marked thirty-one of them cleanly into your hands. Nice work!’

  ‘Why did you keep score?’ asked Specky, amazed that Brian could recall all of that.

  ‘Well, how am I going to know if I improve next time?’

  Specky could tell that this was going to become an after-training ritual.

  As the sunset dipped and the first stars appeared in the crisp early evening sky, the boys strolled off the oval toward their waiting dads.

  ‘Thanks for doing a bit of extra work, mate,’ said Specky.

  ‘No worries,’ grinned Brian. ‘I'm looking forward to the trial match in a couple of weeks. I've always dreamed of wearing a Big V jumper. Hopefully we're on the same side. I reckon we would work together pretty well.’

  ‘Yeah, I think so too,’ Specky replied, smiling back. ‘Well, I better get going, Mum will wonder where Dad and I have got to. We usually eat dinner at six-thirty.’

  ‘That'd be nice,’ said Brian, as he made his way over to his father, sitting on the bonnet of the family wagon. ‘We won't be home until at least one-thirty in the morning.’

  ‘You're kidding!’ Specky said. ‘That long—seriously?’

  ‘Yeah, but I don't care. I want to play professional footy more than anything. Dad's making me read school books all the way down and all the way back so I don't fall behind, but I'll probably sleep for the last two or three hours tonight. Anyway, I'll see you soon. And don't forget, take 'em in the hands.’

  Specky didn't stop talking about his training experience all the way home. His father nearly swerved off the road when he told him that some of the other players in the squad, like Brian, had a six-and-a-half hour drive ahead of them.

  ‘I will never complain about taking you to training again,’ promised Mr Magee as they pulled into the driveway at home.

  14. footballer's mush

  At the end of the following day, after the school bell had sounded, Specky weaved his way through the hordes of students streaming out of the Booyong High grounds.

  ‘Wait up, Speck!’ It was Tiger Girl. ‘I've got something to tell ya.’

  Tiger Girl's face beamed as she ran up alongside Specky.

  ‘I've decided to have a party after the deb at my place,’ she said.

  ‘But I thought it was gonna be at—’

  ‘At McCarthy's place. Yeah, it was, but his folks weren't keen 'cause they're renovating the house or something. Anyway, the Year Eleven girls are organising their own party in the city somewhere and the Year Ten girls are splitting up and having their own individual parties. So I thought I'd have a small one at my place. Unfortunately, Mum said I have to invite parents, so let your folks know. And you can invite Christina, if you like, too.’

  Specky was taken aback. Why would Tiger Girl say that when she knew they had broken up? Had she forgotten?

  ‘Um, I'm not going out with her anymore, remember?’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, I know, but this might be your chance to try and get back together again.’

  ‘Who said I want to get back together with her?’ said Specky, even though that's all he had thought about since they had broken up.

  ‘C'mon!’ said Tiger Girl. ‘I've seen you in class, staring into space, thinking about her.’

  ‘Yeah, right!’ Specky scoffed.

  ‘Don't “yeah, right” me! I know you, Speck. There's two things you always think about—footy and Christina. Or both at the same time.’

  Tiger Girl was right. Specky hadn't been able to stop thinking about Christina during the past few weeks and had wondered the whole time how he could make it up to her.

  ‘You two were so cute together. Why did you break up?’

  Specky hadn't really told anyone why he and Christina had separated. Why would he? He just had to get over it and get on with life. But after some nonstop coaxing from Tiger Girl, he decided to tell her—but he was vague about the details and didn't mention Screamer.

  ‘Well, it's clear what you have to do now, isn't it?’ she said, after hearing the story. ‘You have to do something for her, to win her back. Something that would be a big deal for you to do.’

  ‘Like buy her flowers or something?’ said Specky.

  Tiger Girl rolled her eyes.

  ‘Oh, yeah, that would really work,’ she said sarcastically. ‘No! It has to be something personal. Something that proves you're a good guy.’

  Specky looked at Tiger Girl blankly. He wasn't cut out for all this mushy relationship stuff.

  She continued.

  ‘And it has to be something that's not about you, a really big gesture. Like, helping someone she cares about, or fixing something. Something she'd be impressed by. You have to show you did it 'cause you care for her. And that you appreciate her trying to help you. 'Cause that's all she was trying to
do.’

  Suddenly Specky knew what he had to do. Tiger Girl had given him the perfect idea.

  15. tell me

  An hour after he had spoken to Tiger Girl, Specky slowly approached Screamer's house. He was feeling less sure of himself the closer he got.

  So, this is my big plan? Talking Screamer into calling Christina? he thought nervously. She's obviously really upset about not being friends with him because of me, but I hope I don't make it worse…What am I doing? I must be bonkers!

  Then he stepped onto the driveway, and heard Mr Johnson's voice booming from the open front windows. Specky was tempted to just turn around and leave.

  But then he thought of Christina and steeled himself—he could always tell Screamer's dad he had come to talk to Screamer about the State trial game or something.

  But as Specky walked closer to the house he could also hear Mrs Johnson's voice. Specky stopped. Screamer's parents were in the middle of an argument.

  ‘Don't give me that rubbish,’ shouted Mr Johnson. ‘You're hiding something from me and I bloody well wanna know what's going on. Why did you say Derek might not be able to make the selection game?’

  ‘Look, I don't know what I was thinking,’ said Screamer's mum, in a quieter voice. ‘And do you have to shout? Derek will come home and hear us fighting. The whole neighbourhood will hear us.’

  ‘I don't care who hears us! What could you or Derek have possibly planned to do on that day that would take him away from the greatest opportunity he's ever had?’

  Specky instantly put two and two together.

  I bet that piano audition is on the same day! he thought.

  ‘We haven't planned anything,’ replied Mrs Johnson. ‘But if we had, would it be so bad if he missed one game? There might be more to life than football, you know.’

  There was a long pause. Specky could only imagine the shocked and angry expression on Mr Johnson's face.

  ‘You've got some nerve,’ hissed Screamer's dad.

  ‘I have a nerve?’ Mrs Johnson snapped back. Then her voice wavered. ‘Kevin, you've got to back off. Derek is not Craig!’

  There was another long silence.

  ‘Whatever you're up to, you can drop it! This kid is going to be a football star—and I'm not going to let you ruin that for him or me. This has nothing to do with Craig.’

  ‘No? Four years on and you still can't take yourself to visit his gravesite—not even for his birthday.’

  Now Mrs Johnson sounded as though she was crying.

  It was obvious to Specky that Screamer wasn't home and it wasn't the best moment to make himself known anyway. He would come back at another time.

  Quietly he took a few steps backwards. As Specky turned around, he was startled to find Screamer standing directly in front of him.

  Specky wasn't sure how long Screamer had been standing there. His stare was frozen—his eyes bloodshot, close to tears. His mouth was tight-lipped and his breathing was heavy. Any second now Specky was expecting a right hook to the face, but there was nothing, not even a word. Then, to Specky's surprise and relief, Screamer just stepped aside and let Specky walk past. He kept walking and didn't look back once. He walked all the way home, shocked by what had just happened.

  16. ded ball

  ‘Wow, look at you!’ beamed Mrs Magee proudly, as she looked to the top of the staircase.

  Specky was smartly decked out in a black suit, bowtie, cufflinks and polished black shoes. The big night had arrived. In a couple of hours' time, he and Alice were to show their dance moves at this year's Booyong High deb ball.

  ‘Hooley Dooley! Mr Dapper, come on down!’ teased Mr Magee, who was also wearing his finest, and was pointing a camera in Specky's direction.

  Specky grinned, swaggering down the stairs as if he were James Bond.

  It's like I'm off to the Brownlow, he thought.

  ‘Alice!’ Mrs Magee called out. ‘Dieter will be here soon. You sure you don't want my help?’

  ‘Help?’ echoed Alice from her bedroom. ‘No!’

  ‘Woah, Mum, you look great,’ said Specky, suddenly noticing that his mother was all dressed up in a black evening dress.

  ‘Thank you, darling,’ she said. ‘Even with my belly?’

  Specky nodded. His mother was six months pregnant and her belly was getting bigger by the week. The Magees had decided not to find out the sex of the baby until it was born, but Specky didn't care if it was a boy or a girl, he just couldn't wait for the day when he'd teach his younger sibling how to kick a footy.

  Ding, dong.

  Someone was at the front door. Mr Magee opened it to see the Great McCarthy standing there, also in a suit.

  ‘Ah, another penguin,’ Mr Magee joked.

  ‘Hi, Mr M,’ said Dieter, stepping inside. ‘Is Alice ready? My folks are waiting in the car.’

  ‘Dieter, you look so handsome,’ said Mrs Magee. ‘I think it's so great the boys are going to pick up the girls and arrive at the ball together. Just like the good old days.’

  Specky made a face at Dieter, but he didn't respond. Specky could see beads of sweat on his forehead. He looked very nervous.

  ‘Alice!’ yelled Mr Magee. ‘Your date is here.’

  ‘Okay. Hold on!’

  A few moments later Alice appeared at the top of the staircase.

  There was a collective gasp.

  Specky had never seen his sister so dressed up before. With her hair done up, and makeup expertly applied, she looked like a model. She swished down the stairs in her long flowing white dress.

  Specky's dad clicked away with his camera, while his mother gushed.

  ‘Darling, you look so beautiful! Doesn't she, Simon?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, she scrubs up okay,’ stirred Specky.

  ‘Nick off,’ snapped Alice, in a very unlady-like voice.

  ‘I can't believe this is my little girl,’ smiled Mr Magee. ‘Dieter, what have you got to say?’

  Specky moved aside to let the Great McCarthy step forward. Dieter was speechless.

  ‘Well?’ prompted Mr Magee.

  ‘She's hot,’ mouthed Dieter, his gaze fixed on Alice.

  ‘Sorry?’ said Mr Magee.

  Specky snorted. And Alice winced and smiled at the same time.

  ‘I mean, she's amazing. She's beautiful,’ Dieter said, quickly correcting himself. ‘Here, this is for you.’

  The Great McCarthy handed Alice a corsage, which reminded Specky to grab his for Tiger Girl.

  In no time at all, Specky and his parents were on their way to Tiger Girl's house. Alice headed directly to the ball with Dieter and the McCarthys.

  ‘Wow!’ choked Specky, when Tiger Girl appeared at the door.

  She looked stunning. Specky hardly recognised her. He was so used to seeing her dressed casually, always wearing her tattered old Tigers scarf, with her hair looking as if she had just gotten out of bed. Now he had to do a double-take. With her hair up, her face glowing, lipstick on and makeup around her eyes, she looked like a princess. Specky nervously handed her the corsage.

  ‘Mum, Specky's here. I'll see you at the hall,’ she yelled back over her shoulder. ‘You look great, Speck, and thanks for this.’

  In the car, Tiger Girl handed Specky a gift. Mrs Magee smiled in the front seat.

  ‘What's this for?’ asked Specky.

  ‘It's tradition for the debutante to give her partner a little present. To say thanks. So, thanks.’

  Specky ripped open the gift. It was a book—the latest Hanger McPherson novel.

  ‘Thought you might like it. I love them.’

  ‘Cool. Thanks,’ beamed Specky.

  When they reached Booyong High's hall there was a buzz of excitement that filled the crisp night air. As parents headed inside to be seated, the debutantes and their partners gathered backstage.

  ‘Okay, okay, try to keep the noise down everyone,’ ordered Mrs Twiddle, who, in a shimmering sparkly red dress, resembled a giant Christmas ornament.

  She ran ar
ound with a clipboard, ticking off couples as they arrived. Mr Twiddle followed a few steps behind, complimenting everyone on how elegant they looked.

  ‘Woah, this is pretty full on, isn't it?’ said Specky, who had started to feel a few butterflies.

  ‘Yeah, I'm so excited,’ grinned Tiger Girl, her eyes darting all over the place, checking out how the other girls were dressed. ‘I'm just gonna duck into the toilets—last minute makeup check.’

  Tiger Girl took off with some of her friends. Specky moved toward the stage curtain and peeked through. The hall was as dressed up as the debutantes were. Large tables covered in white cloths lined the edges of the dance floor (which was actually Booyong High's basketball court) and the walls and ceiling were adorned with metallic blue and silver balloons and fairy lights.

  In the far back corner was a six-piece band. Shirley, the rehearsal pianist, was on one of the tables closest to the stage, dressed in her finest, chewing peanuts and sipping a drink. She seemed to be enjoying having the night off.

  Specky spotted his folks talking to some of the other parents and was hit by another wave of butterflies.

  But he wasn't as nervous as the Great McCarthy.

  ‘Oh, man. I've just been to the loo twice and this tie is choking me,’ he croaked. ‘I don't know if I can do this.’

  ‘What d'ya mean, you don't know?’ asked Specky.

  ‘The steps,’ he said. ‘Is it one, two, one for the Boston Two Step, or one, one, two? Oh, crap! I know I'm gonna stuff it up.’

  Specky couldn't believe it. The Great McCarthy—a Year 12 student, admired by so many people at the school for being one of the coolest dudes around—was falling to pieces right before his very eyes.

  ‘Look, you'll be fine. You were okay at rehearsals. Just enjoy it,’ said Specky, trying his best to calm him down.

  ‘I don't think I'm gonna be fine. Mate, I have a real phobia about this,’ he said, taking a deep breath. ‘There's only one thing for me to do.’