by Felice Arena
‘Well, you better find it quick smart,’ said Grub. ‘Or you’ll be kissing this trip goodbye.’
Specky had never seen Dicky look so stressed out before – not even in a heated match situation.
‘Here you go, Atkins!’ Grub said, finally, a slight grin on his face as he tossed the navy-blue passport at Dicky’s feet. ‘It dropped out of your back pocket after you went through customs. Lucky I was right behind you, lad.’
‘Thanks, Grub! You saved my life!’ exhaled Dicky. ‘Forget Speck. You’re Elvis! I love you, Elvis! I love you!’ Dicky jumped up and gave Grub a big bear hug.
Specky and the others laughed and some of the other passengers even applauded as they strolled by.
‘All right, all right, that’s enough,’ said Grub, rolling his eyes at Bobby Stockdale. ‘This kid is going to age me by ten years before the trip is over.’
4. up in the air
Specky looked out the window as the massive jet hurtled down the runway. He had been seated next to Kevin Kottersley. Affectionately known as ‘Special K’, Kevin had been the captain of the South Australian team that had defeated Specky’s Victorian side in the State final. Specky and Kevin had had a few run-ins that day, but since then they had put their differences aside.
The great thing about representative football was the opportunity to play alongside footballers from opposing teams or different states. Good players always compete ferociously, but they also admire and respect other talented footballers, even when they are playing for the other team. Specky knew it was also a chance to observe the way the very best players prepared for training and games and pick up some handy tips along the way. He couldn’t wait to play alongside his former rivals.
‘Speck, check out all the movies we can watch,’ said Special K, as he fiddled with the entertainment console in front of him. ‘It’s awesome!’ he said, flicking through the playlist.
Spiro Molopoulos, another player from the Victorian team, was sitting directly in front of Specky and Special K. Next to Spiro sat Dicky, who had finally calmed down after losing his passport. He already had a blow-up pillow nestled around his neck and an eye mask sitting on his forehead, and now the seatbelt light was off he had launched into some sort of strange exercise routine.
‘Anyone want to swap seats?’ Spiro called out.
‘Belt up, Zorba,’ responded Dicky. ‘Haven’t you read the in-flight instruction card?’ he exclaimed, his loud voice carrying for several rows. ‘It says you should do a series of stretching exercises or you might get something called deep-vein thrombosis.’
‘I might catch a movie first, if that’s okay with you, Dicky,’ said Spiro.
Specky pushed the button to recline his seat and smiled to himself. One of the reasons he loved football so much was the team aspect of the sport and the camaraderie that it encouraged. This was never more evident than when a team was on a trip and living in each others’ pockets. It struck Specky how different twenty-five boys could be from each other yet how important it was that they were singleminded and in tune with each other when it came to football.
‘Suit yourself, but don’t come whinging to me if you can’t walk in a couple of hours,’ said Dicky. ‘Look at Skull. He’s making sure he stretches his legs.’
Skull was walking up the aisle and was passing Specky’s seat … for about the fifth time!
‘Hey, Skull, you going to the loo again? Have you got a bladder problem, mate?’ asked Bear Gleeson, the teams’ number-one rover.
‘Bear, you stick with me on this trip,’ said Skull, sitting down next to him. ‘I’ll teach you everything I know about the ladies. Let me just say, I’m getting a lot of interested looks from those flight attendants. I think they’re quite taken by the old nude nut.’ Skull rubbed his bald head and grinned again.
Skull was full of it, thought Specky, but in a good way.
As Skull took his seat, one of the female flight attendants made her way towards him.
‘See! What did I tell ya?’ he said excitedly, nudging Bear in the ribs. ‘She’s coming over for a bit of skull love.’
‘Excuse me, young man, is your name Lenny Morgan?’ asked the flight attendant, flashing Skull a toothy smile.
‘Yep, but I’m not so young,’ said Skull, winking at her. ‘I’ll be going for my driver’s licence in four months. So I’ll have my own wheels soon.’
By now, everyone was paying attention to Skull, including Grub, Bobby and a couple of the adult chaperones.
‘Well, Lenny,’ smiled the flight attendant, ‘I was just wondering whether you would like some crayons and a colouring book to help pass the time. We have a car colouring book – you know, since you’re going to have your own wheels soon.’
Everyone roared with laughter.
‘Ask her for the kids’ menu, Skull!’ said Bear, as the flight attendant headed back to the galley.
From the smug look on Grub’s face, Specky suspected that he might have had something to do with it. The jokes were flying thick and fast, but Skull took it all in his stride.
Specky and his team-mates settled in for what was going to be a long and tiring flight. The coaches had downloaded a few games on to laptops and Specky was watching a DVD of last year’s Under-16s International Rules game against the Irish.
Kevin had moved back three rows to play a computer war game with Mitch Mahoney, a team-mate from WA.
‘Coming in, Magee,’ grunted Grub. ‘Can you make room for an old man?’
Specky pushed pause on the computer and took off his headphones.
‘Arthritis in the fingers and knees and a back that barely bends,’ Grub said, as he sat down. ‘I’m not very well suited to long plane flights. I see you’ve been studying the footage of previous games. What do you make of it all?’
‘Well, it’s a quick game, that’s for sure.’
Specky usually felt a little nervous around Grub, but when the topic of conversation was football all nerves seemed to disappear.
‘The Irish boys aren’t as tall or solid as most of our guys,’ added Specky. ‘But, gee, they can run! They’re extremely tough, and they never seem to lose their feet. I think it’s going to be a really tough challenge.’
Grub smiled. ‘Ah, but you haven’t mentioned the biggest challenge of all,’ he said.
‘The round ball?’ asked Specky.
‘Dead right, son.’
Specky started to feel the nerves kick in. If professionals like James Hird, Nick Reiwoldt and Andrew McLeod struggled to control the round ball, then how were he and his team-mates going to go?
‘Don’t worry too much,’ said Grub. ‘I’ve found that young players adapt pretty quickly. I really wanted to talk to you about something else, though. I’ve been playing around with the team formation and one of the most important positions on the field in International Rules is the goalkeeper. Obviously there’s no position anything like that in Aussie Rules, so without a doubt it’s the most difficult role.’
Specky remembered George Vernon, the Manchester United talent scout, telling him that he had great potential as a goalkeeper. He thought he knew what Grub was about to say next.
‘I reckon with the way you read the ball, and the fact that you’ve got safe hands and move really well from left to right, well, I just think you’re the best man for the job. What do you think?’
Specky didn’t know what to think – could he really be a natural goalie? He’d usually played up front and was used to moving freely around the field. But he could tell from Grub’s tone that it was a great honour to be asked.
‘Well, kid, are you going to say something, or am I going to have to use that big oaf Atkins, instead?’ Grub pressed.
‘Nah, nah, sorry. I’d love to give it a shot. I’ve never done anything like it before, but I promise I’ll give you a hundred percent.’
‘That’s the boy!’ Grub slapped Specky on the back. ‘Bobby has got a DVD highlights package of legends Stephen Silvagni and Dustin Fletcher when they
were playing goalie for the senior team. They both did outstanding jobs, so I’m sure you’ll pick up plenty of hints watching them in action.’
Just as Grub was about to get out of his seat, he hesitated, and sat back down.
‘One more thing, son,’ he said. ‘I know you’ve got a fair bit on your plate right now, and I could see from the turn-up at the airport that you’ve got plenty of support, but I just want you to know that my door is always open if you want to talk about this whole Manchester United thing. We’re all a little uncertain about it, to be honest, and we don’t want these guys muckin’ around with your head if it’s never really going to happen. I’m not going to interfere, but I’m here if you want to talk.’
‘Thanks, Grub,’ Specky said. ‘I appreciate it.’ And he really did – he had no idea what was going to happen in the coming weeks. What if he did really well as an International Rules goalie? What if he loved every minute of it? Would that influence his decision to accept the Man United offer? At least if I’m hopeless at it, he thought, and let through a whole stack of goals, then my decision will already be made.
The newpapers back home had been full of articles about former Rugby League stars Karmichael Hunt and Israel Folau switching codes and signing with the new AFL Clubs – Gold Coast and Greater West Sydney. Maybe the idea of a kid who grew up playing Aussie Rules becoming a goalie in the English Premier League might not be as crazy as it first seemed …
Specky let out a huge sigh. Only time would tell.
5. press call
‘Mate, it feels like we’ve travelled around the world three times. I can’t even work out what day it is, let alone what time.’
‘I know! But we’re finally in Ireland, can you believe it?’ said Specky, as he and Brian made their way to the luggage carousel, having just cleared customs at Dublin Airport.
Just as Brian was about to reply, Skull bounded up to them, pointing excitedly. ‘Hey, check it out! There’s TV cameras out there.’
Specky and his team-mates turned to see a small group of reporters gathered outside.
Specky knew that the International Rules Series between Ireland and Australia had grown in popularity over the years. A sell-out crowd of over 70000 people had attended the last Test between the senior Australian and Irish teams at the famous Croke Park ground, Dublins’s equivalent of the MCG.
‘Righto,’ said Bobby. ‘Those cameras are here to get shots of you blokes.’ He gathered the group together. ‘So don’t forget that anything you do from this point forward is not only a reflection on yourself and this team, but also a reflection on our country. Skull, tuck your shirt in, mate! Dicky, run a brush through your hair, will ya? And, Spiro, take those headphones out of your ears and pack them away. You look like a try-hard rapper, not one of Australia’s finest junior footballers.’
Specky and the others quickly tucked in shirts, rubbed sleep from their eyes, and generally made themselves look respectable.
‘This could be my big break!’ said Skull excitedly.
‘Now, I don’t know if the press will want to talk to any of you guys,’ continued Bobby, ignoring him. ‘But if they do, they’ll come and ask me first and I’ll come and grab you. They will most likely just want to get a comment from Grub – but be ready if you’re asked.’
They pulled on their hats and gloves and walked out into the cold Irish morning. As they approached the team bus, they saw that Grub was already holding a mini press conference.
‘Mr Gordan. I’m Mick O’Shea from the Irish Times. There has been some concern over the years with the physical nature of these games. What have you got to say about that?’
Specky watched Grub – his coach looked calm and in control.
‘Well, Mr O’Shea,’ he said. ‘We’ve got bigger problems to worry about – like trying to master the art of kicking your round ball. The physicality of how we play has, I think, been blown out of proportion. And these are not seniors, Mr O’Shea, these are boys. We’re looking forward to a friendly contest and we’re very happy to be here in this wonderful country of yours.’
John Freeman, the team’s ruckman, who was nearly two metres tall and answered to the nickname ‘Lurch’, was called over by Bobby for an interview with a couple of Ireland’s major television stations. The TV reporters couldn’t believe how tall Lurch was – they huddled in closely around the giant boy.
‘What size are you, son?’ called out one reporter.
‘You sure you’re a teenager? Can I see your passport?’ joked another.
‘What do they feed ya down there in Oz? Is there something in the kangaroo meat?’
Specky grinned as he watched Lurch stuttering for answers. The questions were coming thick and fast, and the big fella looked a little overwhelmed.
The Aussie boys gave an almighty cheer when Lurch finished his interview. He let out a huge sigh of relief as he rejoined the group.
‘Got a little tongue-tied there, mate?’ asked Bear.
‘Nah, just confused,’ said Lurch. ‘I couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Their accent is so full on and they were speaking so fast. It was like watching an SBS movie – I needed subtitles.’
The entire touring party burst out laughing as they boarded the bus and headed for the team hotel.
Once they hit the road, they couldn’t believe what they saw out the windows. So many old buildings. So many row houses squashed side by side. Amazing bridges. The famous Liffey River. Specky was wide-eyed as the streets of Dublin flashed by. The two Northern Territorian boys in the team, Jeffy Winsome and Stephen Backley, couldn’t believe their eyes.
‘Woah! Check it out!’ sighed Jeffy. ‘Man this city is really old and full of history like!’
‘Still nowhere near as old as Kakadu,’ Stephen replied.
‘Yeah, but I can go to Kakadu whenever I want,’ said Jeffy. ‘I don’t get to see this every day. This is gonna be awesome!’
Specky knew what Jeffy meant – only now did he feel as if the great adventure was really beginning.
‘Room three hundred and three, Magee and Edwards.’
‘Cool, Speck, were rooming together.’
Brian and Specky grabbed the room key from Bobby and rushed to the elevator. The team hotel, the Doonigan, was a heritage building – a grand Irish hotel, easily over one hundred and fifty years old. Some of the ceilings were so low that Lurch and Dicky had almost bumped their heads on the beams in the foyer.
Specky liked the squeaks and creaks from the dark-stained floorboards as they walked to their room and threw their suitcases on their beds.
The itinerary said that they needed to head back down to the lobby in their running gear. After lunch they would be jogging to a nearby oval for some light training. It was supposed to help them get over the jet lag, but Specky hadn’t stopped yawning since they’d arrived and now regretted having watched DVDs and played video games for ten hours straight. It was the middle of day, but he thought he might crash at any moment.
As they were getting changed into their training gear the phone rang. Both boys looked at each other, shrugged, and then dived for the telephone. Specky got there first.
‘Hello!’
‘Aye, it’s Patrick McDougall here, laddie. I tink I’ve lost ma kilt. You wouldn’t have spied it in yar travels now, would ya? I’d really be tankful if you’ve seen it, to be sure, to be sure.’
‘Dicky, that would have to be the worst accent I’ve ever heard,’ Specky snorted.
‘Oh, I thought it wasn’t too bad,’ said Dicky. He was clearly disappointed. ‘Anyway, me and Bear are two doors down. Knock on your way down to training.’
‘No worries, mate, we’re on our way now. And, Dicky …’
‘Yeah?’
‘We’re in Ireland, you dope, not Scotland.’
6. st augustine’s
On the morning of the practice match Grub and Bobby allowed Specky and his team-mates to sleep in until ten. It was going to be a massive day. The game was scheduled f
or the afternoon and was against St Augustine’s College, one of Dublin’s premier school teams. After that they were to be billeted out to host families. Grub had told them that it would mean they could really experience the Irish culture and, hopefully, make some lifelong friends, but Specky was sad to be leaving the rest of the team. They were having so much fun.
At breakfast, everyone hovered around Lurch, who was waving a copy of the Irish Times.
‘Listen to what this reporter has written about us,’ said Skull, snatching the newspaper out of Lurch’s hands and reading it out loud. ‘The Australian boys landed in Dublin on Tuesday and were led off the plane by a giant of a boy who answers to the nickname “Lurch”. They are a superb-looking team of youngsters, kitted out in their Australian uniforms – and looking every bit as professional as any of our senior Irish football squads. They have been expertly prepared by their manager and coach, Jay Gordan, who some say is the greatest coach of junior footballers anywhere in Australia. I fear for the considerably smaller lads from St Augustine’s College, who have been chosen as practice-match partners against these “Wizards of Oz”. By the looks of these Aussie boys, I think this may be more of a massacre than a practice match.’
Spiro grabbed one of the napkins from the table, folded it into the shape of a hat and placed it on his head. ‘Look at me! I’m the Tin Man!’ he joked. ‘Or am I really the Wizard of Oz?’
‘You sure you’re not a munchkin?’ said Specky.
‘CUT IT OUT AND SIT DOWN, MOLOPOULOS!’ roared Grub as he entered the room. ‘The rest of you take your seats as well. Morgan, bring that article to me right now.’
Skull sheepishly handed over the newspaper and sat down.
‘Don’t you blokes fall for this rubbish,’ said Grub, holding the paper high above his head. ‘Young punks for the first time in their lives see their names in a newspaper and start thinking they’re much better than they bloody well are!’