Specky Magee and the Battle of the Young Guns

by Felice Arena

  The Vics are on fire here – Edwards and young Magee are right in the middle of the action. Norris goes back and drills through their second, and they’re off to a flyer.

  The half-time siren sounded with Victoria holding on to a seven-point lead. They made their way in to the rooms, encouraging each other the whole way off the ground. The game had turned into a terrific spectacle with the skills of both sides well and truly on display. Specky had sat the last five minutes on the bench – Grub had thought that he needed a rest.

  From the bench Specky had glanced up into the stands, just to see if his family and friends were watching. He had looked on the internet the night before and knew where their seats were. He could see his mum, Jack, Alice, the Great McCarthy, Robbo and, best of all, Tiger Girl.

  Grub delivered a stirring half-time speech and to Specky’s surprise even singled him out for his great attack on the ball in the first quarter. Specky was playing a great game, and despite the extra attention he was getting from the opposition, he was one of the reasons the Vics held a slender lead.

  ‘One of the things we’re getting caught out on is they’re kicking in after we score a point,’ Grub continued. ‘Too many times we’ve allowed the ball to spill over the back of the pack and then they run it all the way into their forward line. I want the ball punched back – hard – from their kick-ins. Gleeson, Edwards and Morgan, you small blokes, get to the front of these packs and be first at the crumb.’

  Grub made a few positional moves, including placing Specky back onto the wing.

  ‘This is the quarter that can break this game open,’ he roared as the Vics headed back out to the race.

  Specky knew that this was also the quarter that Gobba would be calling for the Cork in the Ocean contest. As he ran on, he imagined him way up in the commentary box, positioning his headset – filled with nerves – sitting in a box next to two of his heroes, Jim Bradshaw and Brian Paylor. He knew that as long as Gobba’s voice held out he would absolutely nail it.

  The competition organiser pointed to Gobba as the red ‘on air’ button came to life in front of him.

  ‘Welcome back to the MC … ahummph, MCG …’

  Gobba froze. He hadn’t talked all day for fear of not being able to call the game and now it looked as if those fears might have been well-founded. Everyone was looking at him, the organiser frantically indicating for him to go on.

  ‘Ahummph, excuse me, folks,’ Gobba managed. ‘Sorry about that, a little frog in the throat.’

  What a rip-snorter we’ve got here today, folks. Two great young teams filled with the prodigious talent that will carry this great game of ours forward in the coming decade. Remember the names of some of these lads and mark them down in your footy records – for the Atkins, Morgans, Molopolouses and Freemans of today will be the AFL stars of tomorrow. And I get the feeling that the name Magee will be in that group, too.

  Everyone in the box looked on in awe as Gobba moved into top gear, getting better as the game progressed.

  Five minutes to go in the third quarter and the ball has been locked deep in the South Australian forward line for what seems like an eternity. It spills out to Johnson from South Australia, who flicks it over to Hawley. He ducks one way … then another … then throws it onto his boot. But Magee – Simon Magee – flings himself, with no regard for his own safety, onto the ball and smothers it. It comes free towards Kottersly, the skipper for the crow-eaters, who shrugs a tackle and heads towards goal. He baulks around Bayless, spins past Edwards, and lines up the goals, and … WOW WEE! What a bone-crunching tackle! Who was that? I don’t believe it. Magee has picked himself up after smothering the ball, only to lay an unbelievable tackle. I think Magee might have owed Kottersly one from earlier in the day.

  After his mighty smother and tackle, Specky again found himself on the bench for the final minutes of the quarter. South Australia were playing the game of their lives and it was taking some inspirational football from the Vics just to stay ahead. Specky felt as if his lungs were bursting and his legs were burning.

  There goes the siren for the end of the third quarter, folks, and the Vics have managed to hang on to a tiny three-point lead. It’s set up for a mighty final term. And that’s it from me, but before I go I’ve got to say to my mates at Booyong High: Boys, the tonic worked beautifully. My voice has never sounded better.

  After Grub finished addressing his players, Dicky Atkins took it upon himself to get the group together for one last rev-up before the final quarter.

  Specky was heading towards the group, when Grub grabbed him by the arm and took him to one side.

  Oh no! What have I done? thought Specky. Grub only ever spoke to a player one-on-one to point out something he had done wrong.

  ‘Yes, Grub,’ said Specky, looking his coach in the eye and expecting the worst.

  ‘How ya feeling?’ said Grub, his face giving nothing away.

  ‘I’m good. I feel really good.’

  ‘Not too tired?’

  ‘Nah, I got a rub at three-quarter time and that spell on the bench helped,’ said Specky.

  ‘Excellent,’ Grub replied, the hint of a smile on his face. ‘Have a look around, Simon. I don’t want you to forget this moment. You’ve worked your backside off for us in the first three quarters. Now, this is what it’s all about. The great players step up on the big stage. There are about eighty-thousand people here now, probably closer to one hundred by the end of the game. I know I’ve been driving you hard, and I don’t give out too much praise, but you’ve been great, son. Now go and finish it off.’

  Specky felt an amazing surge of pride. He’d had to develop a thick skin with Grub over the months they’d trained together, and he’d copped more than his fair share of criticism along the way. But listening to Grub say those words made it all worthwhile.

  Back on the field, waiting for the umpire to start the last quarter and watching the stands filling to capacity, Specky knew, right then, that he would do whatever it took to experience this feeling again at AFL level.

  The Fox Sports commentary team got things going in the last quarter.

  Can the Vics hold on, Brian? They looked tired in the last few minutes of that third quarter.

  I’m sure they can, Jim. This crowd, which has built to about eighty-five thousand, will start roaring for them in this last quarter and I’m not sure that there will be too much support for the young boys from South Australia – given that we’ve got two Victorian teams set to battle it out in the main game in a couple of hours time.

  But Specky wasn’t so sure. He had never worked harder in his life. One minute he was floating in front of a pack taking marks in defense, and the next minute he was delivering the ball deep into his own forward line. Bear Gleeson and Brian Edwards had also run themselves into the ground and had played fantastically the entire game – but they were all simply running out of legs.

  The wide-open spaces of the MCG were starting to take their toll. The South Australians had managed to kick three quick goals through Kottersly, who was absolutely on fire, and two goals went to their blond, high flying forward, Terry Backley. The Vics now trailed by 14 points and the game was slipping away.

  ‘Grub wants you to go to centre-half forward, Speck. We need a couple of goals!’

  Specky was so exhausted that he could barely acknowledge the runner. He managed to nod his head and ran to his position. The ball remained in the South Australian forward line for a couple of minutes, giving Specky a chance to catch his breath. But it also meant valuable time was ticking by.

  Dicky Atkins retrieved the ball from the crowd after another behind by South Australia. As always, he had given his all. At the start of the quarter he had split his head open and been taken from the field due to the blood rule and down to the rooms to be stitched up. He had returned to the ground with a giant white bandage around his head. Specky thought he looked more fearsome than ever.

  With time running out, Dicky barrelled a massive torpedo st
raight down the middle of the ground. The footy spiralled at least sixty metres, and the crowd roared its approval. Lurch Freeman tried to mark it, but it was punched to the ground before he could get his hands on it. Thankfully, Skull Morgan was waiting.

  The ball’s been punched forward and Morgan gathers it cleanly and shoots out a handball to Bayless. With the clock ticking down, Bayless swings onto his left foot in the direction of centre-half forward, but – oh no! – the South Australian ruckman, Harry Zatsaris, has positioned himself there perfectly. But, wait … MAAAAGGGEEEEEE! Simon Magee has come from nowhere and perched himself on top of the shoulders of Zatsaris to take one of the greatest marks you’re ever likely to see. Have a listen to this crowd, Jim.

  Specky flipped himself forward after taking the ball in his hands, completing a somersault in the process. Almost landing on his head, he hit the ground with a thud.

  The thunderous cheer from eighty thousand spectators echoed in Specky’s ears. He tried to compose himself as he went back to take his kick for goal. With the team trailing by 15 points, Specky knew he had to slot this one through to give the Vics any sort of a chance.

  So tired that he was almost acting on instinct, Specky moved forward, guiding the ball to his boot. From forty-five metres out, the footy sailed straight through the middle of the goals, never deviating.

  Again, the crowd went berserk. The cheer squads for the teams competing in the senior AFL Grand Final were leading the chant for the Victorians.

  Magee holds the key, Jim. They’ve just got to give him the chance. What a game he’s played. Back in the centre, Zatsaris wins the tap, but it’s sharked by Edwards. Not mucking around, he bombs the ball long into the Vics forward line where Norris takes the tumbling mark. He’s got it, Jim! The Vics are not finished yet. He lines it up. It looks good, but … no, it just drifts off-line. South Australia leads by eight – a minute and a half to go.

  Specky took up his position in the zone. He knew there was not much time left.

  He’s taking his time, this South Australian full-back. He goes back and boots the ball long, towards the boundary line. Not a smart move, Brian – it’s in the direction of Magee.

  All the players were just about out on their feet, which allowed Specky to get a clear run at the ball. Both Lurch Freeman and Harry Zatsaris positioned themselves under it, ready to compete for the mark. With one last, mighty effort, Specky launched himself at the ball again, getting a perfect ride on the backs of both ruckmen.

  Here comes MAAAGGEEEEE!

  Specky was in perfect position, propped up on the shoulders of the ruckmen, but at the last moment, instead of attempting the mark, he punched the ball forward with all his might. With Grub’s half-time instructions burning in his mind, Brian Edwards had perfectly read what Specky was going to do and ran in and masterfully crumbed the ball. He shot out a quick handball to Bear Gleeson, who ran into goal and put it straight through the big sticks. The MCG erupted.

  The Vics are coming! The Vics are coming!

  Is there time, Brian? That’s the only question. Gee, I thought Magee was going to take another specky, but he did the disciplined thing and his team-mates benefitted. What a game!

  Specky stood at the front of the centre square and looked around him. All the South Australian players had moved into their own back line, determined to hang on to their two-point lead.

  I don’t know how much time’s left, Jim, but this is the most crucial centre bounce of the day. The ball goes up and Zatsaris thumps it forward for the South Australians, but there’s no one there. Except, DICKY ATKINS! He gathers the ball and looks up field …

  BARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHHH.

  Siren, Jim! There goes the siren! South Australia have held on. They are the Under-Fifteen National Champions. This has been the ultimate battle of the young guns! Sensational! What a cracker of a game! If the senior Grand Final lives up to what we’ve just witnessed, we’re in for a special day.

  The South Australians went absolutely wild. Specky just stood there – numb, too tired and disappointed to move, acutely aware of the pain of having lost such a big game. As the ground staff quickly set up the stage for the presentation of the Cup, Grub Gordan waddled on to the ground and went over to shake the hands of the South Australian boys and their coach. Then he made his way over to the Vics.

  ‘Come on, get up, ya lazy buggers,’ he said, with a resigned smile on his face. ‘I don’t want any of you boys to walk off this ground disappointed. This is what football is all about. You tried your hearts out, right up to the very last second, and the siren happened to go at the wrong time. You’re winners, boys, believe me.’

  The team watched the South Australian coach and captain walk onto the stage to receive the Championship Cup. As they got off the dais, Specky started to head towards the change rooms, not really paying much attention to what was going on around him.

  And the winner of the Robert Harvey medal for best player on the ground is … Simon Magee.

  Specky stopped in his tracks, dumbfounded. Rarely did a player from the losing side win the best-on-ground award, and it hadn’t once occurred to him that it might be him. A massive cheer came from the Victorian camp. For the first time since the siren sounded, his team-mates managed to smile.

  As he made his way towards the stage, the giant scoreboards at the MCG came to life. Looking up, Specky nearly fell over as he saw an image of himself soaring towards the clouds and taking a mark that would be spoken about for years to come.

  He looked out at the crowd in the direction of his friends and family. For a split second, he thought he could see them jumping up from their seats. The roar from the crowd, as they all turned their attention to the big screens, was to rival any that came from the MCG on Grand Final day.

  But that still wasn’t the best thing that happened that day. That was still to come …

  22. the unexpected

  Specky opened the door to the hospital room and was surprised to find his dad and his grandpa chatting to each other as if they were old buddies.

  ‘Here he is,’ said Mr Magee proudly, getting out of his chair and wrapping his arms around Specky. ‘I’m so proud of you!’

  Specky hugged him back and then walked over to hug his grandpa. ‘How are you?’ he asked.

  ‘I couldn’t be better, kid! I was hoping you’d play well, but instead you played a blinder. My grandson is a champion.’

  ‘So, you saw it?’

  ‘Of course we saw it!’ said Grandpa Ken. ‘I know I promised to come and see you play, but I got to do the next best thing – I saw you on the TV.’

  ‘We watched every minute of it, Si,’ added Specky’s dad. ‘And some of the nurses joined us – we had quite a crowd.’

  ‘We had a beaut time, your father and me,’ Grandpa said.

  ‘You did? Really?’ said Specky. ‘I mean, you’re not just saying that for me …’

  ‘No, Simon, we’re not,’ said Mr Magee. ‘Dad and I had a great time. We realised we have something very much in common – you. And we’ve decided that’s a great place for us to make a fresh start. Now I’m going to leave you two to chat for a bit – I believe you have something to show your Grandpa, Si? Are the others here?’

  ‘They’re all in the canteen. Mum said that I should come up here on my own first and they would visit later.’

  ‘Smart woman, my wife.’ Mr Magee smiled. ‘We’ll see you in a few minutes.’

  ‘So, let’s have a closer look at that Robert Harvey medal of yours,’ said Grandpa Ken.

  Specky took the medal from around his neck and handed it to his grandpa.

  ‘Brilliant. Just fantastic,’ he mumbled.

  ‘But I wanted to show you something else,’ said Specky, opening a plastic bag he had carried in. ‘I thought you might want to hold onto it for me until I use it.’

  ‘What is it? A footy jumper?’ Grandpa Ken asked as he turned it over to see the colours.

  ‘Not just any jumper. It’s an All-Australian ju
mper. After today’s match our coach announced the All-Australian team – and I’m on it. We’re touring Ireland in the International Rules Series.’

  Grandpa Ken squeezed the jumper close to his chest – he seemed overcome with emotion. He didn’t say a word.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Specky asked softly, noticing that he had tears in his eyes. ‘Is it the medication again?’

  ‘Nah, kid,’ he sniffed. ‘This is all me. All me. Thank you.’

  Later that night, Danny, Robbo and Gobba appeared at the Magee’s front door.

  ‘Woo-hoo! Here he is! The best man on the ground!’

  ‘You were awesome, man!’

  ‘Unbelievable! Best footy ever!’

  Specky beamed as his friends enthusiastically congratulated him. ‘Thanks, guys,’ he sighed. ‘Talk about a full-on day, huh?’

  ‘Speck, you were sensational – truly,’ gushed Danny. ‘Your game was even better than the actual Grand Final, especially the way that …’

  Beep! Beep!

  Danny reached into his pocket to check his mobile.

  ‘Here we go again,’ said Robbo. ‘The Gladiator!’

  ‘What?’ said Specky. ‘Are they …?’

  ‘Yep, back together again,’ finished Gobba.

  ‘What can I say, Speck?’ Danny grinned, shoving his phone back into his pocket. ‘Love is complicated. You can’t live with ’em, and you can’t live without ’em.’