by Felice Arena
‘You mean the talent scouts?’ said Worm.
‘Yep! And I think the only ones who went out in search of us were Mr Reager, Mr Brennan and Coach Farrell. So it has to be one of those three.’
For a moment no one said a word. The boys were shocked by the realisation that one of their teachers could do such an awful thing.
‘That’s what I’ve always thought,’ sighed Tim, now looking pretty ashamed of himself. ‘But I don’t know who spotted me.’
‘Why can’t we just go up and ask them who went to see Tim play in Wodonga?’ suggested Worm. ‘Whoever that was, is the one.’
‘It would look like we know something. It’s too suss,’ said Specky.
‘Can’t we just ask Coach Farrell?’
Specky and Tim looked at each other. Didn’t
Worm get what they just said? Worm noticed their bewildered expressions.
‘Look, you can’t seriously believe it could be Coach Farrell. Think about it. If he wanted to sabotage the Boots of Glory game, he could do it through his coaching. He’d play you in the ruck, Tim, and, Specky, he’d put you on the bench. Get what I’m saying? He’d change the whole team around. He wouldn’t bother about getting some kid at Salisbury to get messages to Tim and write threats to you.’
‘You’re right,’ Specky said. ‘So, then it’s Reager or Brennan.’
As Specky was talking, Coach Farrell walked into the library and stopped to chat to Mrs Leggiamo at the front desk.
‘I’m gonna go and ask him now,’ Worm said definitely.
‘No!’ Specky and Tim called after him.
But it was too late. Worm rushed across to the front desk and spoke to Coach Farrell. He returned a couple of minutes later.
‘So, who was it?’ asked Specky.
‘It was Reager…’
‘I knew it!’ blurted Tim.
‘And Brennan!’ added Worm. ‘They were there together. Then Coach Farrell joined them a week later and saw you play.’
‘Awrh, well, it doesn’t matter,’ said Specky. ‘At least we know it’s one of those two. We have to find out as much as we can about them. See how either of them could be connected to Salisbury.’
‘I’ll check out Mr Reager,’ Worm said, jumping in. ‘This is better than reading Sherlock Holmes!’
‘Well, good,’ said Specky, not feeling quite as enthusiastic as Worm. ‘I’ll check out Brennan. He used to go to Christina’s school. I’ll get her to look in some old school yearbooks.’
‘And then what?’ asked Tim, looking very worried.
‘What d’ya mean?’ asked Specky.
‘What happens after you find out who it is?’ Cause I don’t wanna lose my scholarship.’
Specky was stuck for an answer.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘We’ll work that out once we find out who it is.’
The following morning, Tim and Specky were back doing what they did best – playing footy. The team was slugging it out in their regular season’s match. They were up against the Croweton College Crows – tough competitors from another town in the Lovettville district. Coming off the back of their victory against Booyong High, Specky’s team oozed with confidence. Too much confidence, as it turned out. They were flat and lethargic on the field and just couldn’t do a thing right.
During the quarter-time breaks, Specky found himself staring at Mr Reager and Mr Brennan from afar. Tim couldn’t concentrate, either. It was one of the reasons the Knights were struggling so badly against the Crows. It was difficult for them to believe, as they watched the men smile and offer advice to the other boys, that either of them could be so against Gosmore.
Gosmore played one of the worst games that anyone could remember and, in a massive upset, the Croweton College Crows beat the mighty Gosmore Grammar by fifteen points. But Coach Farrell was very quiet and calm when he spoke to the team after the game.
‘Boys, I don’t have to tell you how badly we played. It’s a timely reminder that if we don’t prepare ourselves properly – mentally and physically – for every single game, then we get what we deserve. And that’s exactly what happened out there today. We thought that we just had to turn up today and we could win the game. Maybe the victory over Booyong gave you inflated opinions of how good you all are.
‘I think this team has the potential to be one of the best Gosmore teams to ever take the field. But I could give you so many examples of teams with enormous potential that didn’t achieve anywhere near what they should have.
‘We’ll have to get our minds back on the job in a hurry if we’re going to retain the Boots of Glory. You’ll have to train hard and train well, so I’ll see you for extra training tomorrow morning at six, and then again after school. And if I don’t see an improvement straight away we’ll do it all again the following morning, and I’ll keep getting you out of bed until we get it right. Now hit the showers and have a good think about what you want to achieve as a football side.’
After showering and getting changed, Specky and Tim met Worm, and walked back to their dorms together. Grizza and Whispers had spoken to the team after the coaches had left and everyone agreed with what Coach Farrell had said. In a way they were all looking forward to getting back on the training track. To avoid talking about their disappointing day, the boys shared what they had found out about Mr Reager and Mr Brennan.
‘I called my mum last night and told her I was doing a biography assignment,’ began Worm. ‘Anyway, she usually knows heaps about the teachers. She’s always helping them out with events and functions and stuff, but she only knows that Mr Reager came to this area from South Australia ten years ago with his wife Barbara.’
‘And nothing about Salisbury?’ asked Specky.
Worm shook his head.
‘What about you, Speck? Did you find out anything about Brennan?’ asked Tim.
‘I talked to Christina and she said she’ll get back to me on Monday after school. But I’ve just thought of someone who might be able to tell us more about both of ’em.’
‘So, Kevin Brennan and Dave Reager, eh?’ said Old Lady Nails, placing a bucket of water in Lance’s stall. ‘What can I say about Kevin Brennan?’
Nails scratched her brow, her face squishing up into a thousand wrinkles.
‘He came to us a couple of years ago from teaching at a school in Geelong. He’s divorced. No kids. Was a former student of St Paul’s in Carlton. Very down-to-earth bloke. I remember when I first met him I thought I recognised him: he has one of those very familiar faces. But apart from that, there’s not much else I can you tell you about him, I haven’t known him for long.’
Nails latched Lance’s stall and grabbed a broom to begin sweeping. Specky hovered a few steps behind.
‘As for Dave, well, he’s originally an Adelaide boy. He was a champion hurdler in his day. He studied to be a PE teacher at LaTrobe University in Melbourne. He turned fifty last year. He’s married to the lovely Barbara. And has a grown-up daughter. Anything else?’
Specky was hoping for a lot more than that.
‘Um, was he ever a Gosmore or Salisbury student at all?’
‘No, he did all his schooling in Adelaide. Although, he does have a connection to this area…’
‘What?’ asked Specky. ‘What’s the connection?’
‘I’m not sure if I should tell you, lad. Not many people round here know about this piece.’
‘Please, tell me!’ pleaded Specky. ‘Has it got anything to do with Salisbury College?’
‘Funnily enough, it does. But why would you ask me that?’
‘Um, I dunno, just a stab in the dark, I s’pose,’ Specky improvised.
‘Well, look,’ said Nails. ‘I’ll tell you, but you just keep it to yourself.’
Specky nodded eagerly.
‘Mr Reager’s wife is originally from this area. She met Dave at university.’
Is that it? thought Specky. But she continued.
‘As I said, not many know this, but Barbara is the g
randdaughter of the first Principal of Salisbury College, Arthur Danforth. One of the two Principals who invented the Boots of Glory match.’
26. gala dinner
Specky, Tim and Worm found it hard to meet up privately that evening. The Under 15 team were all preparing to go to the Boots of Glory gala dinner, and there was always someone around. But a few minutes before catching the bus to the Lovettville town hall, the three did eventually find a moment to talk.
‘It has to be him then! What are we gonna do now?’ whispered Worm, as he fixed his tie.
‘Nothing yet. I think we still need to find out about Brennan first,’ said Specky. ‘Christina called me earlier and said she couldn’t find him in any of her school’s old yearbooks.’
‘That is weird,’ said Worm. ‘Hey, what’s up with him?’ He gestured in Tim’s direction.
‘What’s wrong, Tim? You haven’t said a word,’ said Specky. Tim was being oddly quiet.
‘I got a note in my locker today to meet Crusha on Thursday night,’ he said. ‘He’s probably gonna give me the final message from Mr X, Speck, since the Boots of Glory match is this Sunday.’
Worm shook his head in disgust.
‘I wonder what this Crusha dude gets out of all this,’ said Specky.
‘Money!’ answered Tim. ‘When I asked him once, he said why not if it meant getting easy cash and the chance to help Salisbury get the Boots of Glory.’
‘Help!’ scoffed Worm. ‘You mean cheat to get the Boots of Glory.’
Just then a few of the other boys walked up and, moments later, they all boarded the bus to Lovettville. Only when everyone was assembled on the front steps of the town hall did Specky realise what a big event it was going to be. Streaming into the large Victorian building were parents, teachers and former Boots of Glory players, all dressed in their finest. Once inside, Specky was taken aback by the sea of tables, waiters in tuxedos pacing about offering drinks and canapés, thousands of fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, the school orchestra playing in the background and the enormous silk banners in the Gosmore colours draped across the walls.
‘Woah, this is as big as the Brownlow!’ he said under his breath.
‘Simon!’
Specky turned to see his parents walking toward him.
‘Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad.’
‘Isn’t this terrific?’ said Mr Magee, looking up to the ceiling. ‘I had no idea that this Boots of Glory game was so important.’
‘Yeah, it is! Really important to some,’ said Specky, as he watched Mr Reager and Mr Brennan greet some of the other parents.
‘Um, testing, one, two. Attention everyone!’
It was Coach Farrell, standing on the stage at the front of the hall, speaking into a microphone. Beside him were the Boots of Glory, in a glass case on top of a pedestal.
‘Can I ask you all to find your tables and be seated, please. The first course is about to be served. Thank you all for coming. I hope you enjoy your meal. We’ll commence our program before dessert is served.’
‘Well, good luck, love. We’ll let you go and join your friends,’ said Mrs Magee.
The Boots of Glory team was seated on three big tables toward the front of the hall. But in between courses many of the guests mingled between tables. Specky tagged alongside Whispers, Sticks and Worm as they chatted to their parents.
‘Worm’s folks are just bigger versions of him,’ said Specky, returning to his table and sitting next to Tim.
Tim was spitting ice cubes in and out of his empty glass, looking sullen.
‘Hey, I’m sorry that your mum couldn’t make it,’ said Specky, noticing Tim’s gloomy expression.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ he mumbled. ‘She couldn’t afford a babysitter for my brother anyway.’
‘Hello, Simon!’ It was Old Lady Nails, dressed in a gown and pearls, and looking very elegant – a far cry from her overalls and gumboots.
‘Just wanted to wish you all the best for the Boots match,’ she said, smiling at Specky. ‘And to apologise – unfortunately I won’t be able to be there – my daughter’s getting married. But I’ve organised for an old equestrian friend of mine to get dressed up as the mascot knight and ride Lance before the match. So, keep an eye out for them both. And good luck, kid!’
‘Can I please have everyone back at their tables as we’re about to begin our presentation,’ boomed Coach Farrell from the stage.
The official part of the evening started with Mr Stevens making a speech and talking about the history of the Boots of Glory match. Then four former Boots of Glory team members from twenty-five and fifty years ago shared their own personal experiences of the match.
‘Could you please put your hands together for all of our former Boots of Glory players!’ said Coach Farrell, leaning into the microphone.
The entire hall erupted into applause and the orchestra struck up the school song.
‘Okay. It’s a great honour for me to introduce our special guest speaker for the night,’ announced Coach Farrell, when the musical interlude ended. ‘We’ve kept it a secret until now, but without further ado, could you please give a huge welcome to Denis Pagan!’
Specky couldn’t believe it – the coach of Carlton! Amazing! he thought. Christina’s gonna flip when I tell her.
Denis Pagan spoke about his love for Aussie Rules and how traditional matches like the Boots of Glory helped keep the unique game alive. He talked passionately for the next twenty minutes and entertained the large audience with his dry humour and witty anecdotes.
‘So, to you boys, I wish you all the very best,’ he said, looking directly at the team.
As everyone clapped and cheered, Coach Farrell motioned for the boys to gather on stage, and asked Denis Pagan to present the official Gosmore Boots of Glory guernseys.
‘Please save your applause for the very end,’ announced Coach Farrell. ‘Could we have number two, Damien Pigton, come forward…’
Piggie stepped up, shook Denis Pagan’s hand, and received his jumper.
‘Number five, Simon Magee…’
Specky felt his heart skip a beat as he approached the legendary coach.
‘Thank you, Mr Pagan,’ he stuttered nervously, as he took his jumper.
‘You’re welcome, Simon,’ Denis Pagan said, putting his hand over the mike. ‘Our recruiting officer has been to watch your last couple of games, young man. He told me about a very courageous mark you took a couple of weeks ago. I coached Glenn Archer for many years and he’s one of the bravest players I’ve ever seen, but I think even he would have been proud of your effort. Well done. Have a great game!’
‘Number nine…’
Specky walked off in a daze. A real, live AFL coach, one of the legends of the game, knew about me. I can’t believe it, he thought. At that moment his dream of playing AFL football felt closer than ever before.
It took about ten minutes for everyone to get their jumpers. The proud parents and teachers in the audience applauded again.
‘Right, ladies and gentlemen, as the boys make their way back to their seats, we’d like to share something very special with you. We have been fortunate enough to find some footage of the last Boots of Glory match. Our heroic team of that year – some of whom are here with us this evening – won the Boots after Salisbury had held them for fifty years. It was one of the greatest days in Gosmore’s history. Well, we’re about to relive part of that extraordinary match. The film has been dubbed by a former Gosmarian, Rod Finn, now a commentator for the sports radio station SEN 1119, in Melbourne.’
The lights were dimmed, and directly behind Coach Farrell a large screen was lowered from the ceiling and a scene from twenty-five years ago flickered back to life. Specky watched in awe as the final part of the match played out in front of him. The last minute was a real nail-biter:
‘And the crowd is going berserk! Less than a minute to go, I’m guessing, and this match could still go either way. The Knights are desperately trying to slow the play down. They’re fou
r points in front and they can’t let the Royals in. But hold on! Look out! Turner of Salisbury breaks away from the centre and stab kicks it quickly to Miller, who handballs it off to the young Biggs and… What a marvellous kick from Biggs! It’s soaring high. This is dangerous! Dangerous! Dangerous for Gosmore! It’s heading directly for the big sticks. And no one is in the square, except for a Salisbury player, young Kevin Parker. Where are the Gosmore defenders? Is Parker gonna mark it or let it go through? He’s, he’s… he’s fumbled the mark and it’s rolled through for a point! The Salisbury crowd have gone ballistic. If only he had let it go through on its own. The Gosmore crowd can let out an enormous sigh of relief. The Knights are still three points in front after an incredible game and they… and there goes the siren! It’s all over! Salisbury had their chance to snatch it, but it literally slipped through their fingers. The Gosmore Knights have won the Boots of Glory. After fifty years, the Boots are returning to Gosmore!’
As the lights came up amid rapturous cheers and applause from the audience, Specky caught sight of Mr Brennan returning from outside. Specky noticed he looked edgy and wondered if he had missed the entire screening. Suddenly, Specky sprung up out of his chair.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Tim.
Specky didn’t answer. Instead, he weaved past some waiters carrying trays of dessert and made his way over to his parents.
‘Dad, do you have your mobile?’
Mr Magee nodded.
‘Can I have it, please? I have to call Christina, it’s urgent.’
Mr Magee handed Specky his phone, and Mrs
Magee cracked a joke to the other parents on their table about young love.
Specky rushed outside and dialled Christina’s number.
‘Hi, it’s me. Can you do me a big favour?’
‘Yeah, what? Aren’t you meant to be at your gala dinner?’
‘I am. Look, do you have those old school yearbooks with you?’
‘Yeah, but I told you I couldn’t find any Kevin Brennan. And I looked in the yearbook from twenty-three years ago,’ cause you said he would’ve been in Year Twelve then.’