Red vs Blue
Page 1
ABOUT RED VS BLUE
A story bursting with fun, footy, family and friends from NRL superstar and Dally M Medal winner James Tedesco.
FOR ALL KINDS OF KIDS WHO DREAM BIG!
Great news: Teddy has a new team - Camden Rams Blue.
Not-so-great news: they still need more players. The game against their arch rivals Camden Red is looming so they need to find new players fast.
But how? Where?
Just as well Teddy and the team have some good (an no-so-good) ideas ...
Perfect for fans of David Warner’s The Kaboom Kid!, Tim Cahill’s Tiny Timmy and Anh
Do’s Weirdo series.
To the Camden Rams, my junior club where it all started. Thank you for igniting my dream and providing me with the opportunity to chase it.
Contents
About Red vs Blue
Dedication
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
About the Author
Copyright
CHAPTER 1
VERY SERIOUS DAD
I look at Ben, Luke, Gerard and Alex, who are sprawled out, sweaty and exhausted, on the Camden Rams footy fields. The fact that Ben and I just versed Luke, Gerard and Alex and kicked their butts in a game of touch footy isn’t the reason they’re so tired.
The real reason is that before the game of footy today, we were chased by the trolley boys at Campbelltown Mall. It’s a long story but I’ll make it short: Luke asked out Breeanna Lee at her parents’ cheese shop. (It specialises in goat’s cheese – gross.) Breeanna is already going out with an older boy, Damir the trolley boy. Damir wasn’t happy about Luke’s romantic proposal and confronted us. Gerard teased one of the other trolley boys who has a try-hard beard, calling him ‘Dog’s Butt’. They ended up chasing us and we escaped by hiding in the basement of the mall.
When I get home that afternoon, I tell my family everything.
I tell them about Damir and his mates chasing us.
I tell them that the basement of the mall is kind of creepy but kind of cool.
I tell them that I never want to eat goat’s cheese.
I tell them about how unfit the boys are.
Everyone in my family listens carefully as I describe what happened. They’re all interested in different things.
Nonna likes hearing about Luke being in love.
Nonno keeps saying how much he likes the Lee family’s cheese. ‘Mi piace il formaggio!’ He really loves cheese.
Matthew doesn’t stop laughing. ‘That’s a shame!’ he says when I tell him about Luke asking Breeanna out.
Mum’s worried. All she wants to know is if the police were involved.
Dad is shocked to hear how exhausted the boys were after our game. He’s scribbling notes and ideas on the back of an old shopping list.
After I’ve finished the story, Dad stuffs the shopping list in the back pocket of his jeans. ‘I’ve heard enough!’ he exclaims. ‘James, we’ve only got one chance to make this new team a success.’
Mum can see that Dad’s getting worked up and maybe taking this a little too seriously.
‘John, dear,’ she says, but he waves her away.
‘Sorry, love,’ he replies. ‘President Taber at the Camden Rams has created a new team and put me in charge. James sealed the deal for us last month and that’s how the Camden Blue Under 12s was born,’ he explains. ‘And any team that John Tedesco coaches needs to be in shape.’
Saturday nights are always movie night at the Tedesco house, but instead of eating dinner and watching Mrs Doubtfire with the family, Dad heads outside to the tractor shed. ‘James?’ he calls when he’s halfway between the house and the shed. I run out to see him holding his dinner plate in one hand and a clipboard in the other. A ballpoint pen is resting behind his ear.
‘Yeah, Dad?’ I say.
‘Tell everyone in the old Meerkats team that if they want to play footy again, they’ll need to be here at 9.00 am tomorrow. After that we’ll start our proper training on Tuesdays and Thursdays at the Rams’ fields.’
He turns around, slides open the tractor shed door with his foot and turns on the light.
Before I message the old Meerkats team, I create a checklist based on our old starting line-up. If I can get them all to play again, we’ll have a very competitive team. I’m excited.
But an hour or so later, after I’ve tracked everyone down with my invitation, this is how Camden Blue is looking:
By the time I’ve finished the list, I crunch the numbers and realise that we only have a run-on squad of eight players. We’re five players short, not counting reserves. Alex’s mum won’t let him play and Lewis isn’t that sporty, so those two are off the cards. Still, eight players in a team is better than no team at all.
The laughter coming from the lounge room has stopped, which means that either the movie has finished or everyone has fallen asleep. Nonno’s favourite part in the movie is when Mrs Doubtfire’s bra catches fire on the stove, and tonight I heard him laughing so much he coughed up a meatball. Nonna got cranky at him for not chewing his food properly. When I walk out to the lounge room, the only person there is Matthew, watching the late-night NBA game from America.
‘You got a team yet?’ he asks, not taking his eyes off the TV. LeBron James from the Los Angeles Lakers drives past the Detroit Pistons’ guards and slam dunks the ball through the hoop. The crowd goes wild.
‘Can you turn that TV down, Matthew?’ yells Mum from her bedroom. Matthew points the remote at the TV like a lightsabre and quickly adjusts the volume.
‘Eight players coming back, and we’ll need to find a heap of new players,’ I say.
‘Big job. Good luck, little bro,’ says Matthew, still glued to the Lakers game. I peer out the window to the dark of the yard and see that the light is still on in the tractor shed.
There’s already a thick dew on the grass as I walk barefoot across the paddock to the shed. I shine the torch carefully in front of me to dodge the cow poo. When I reach the doorway, Dad is putting the finishing touches on tomorrow’s training session on the big shiny whiteboard that rests on top of his workbench. How can I tell him that we don’t even have a full team? He notices me at the door. ‘What do you think?’ he asks, looking proudly at his work.
‘Um, it’s great,’ I say. He gives me that look. It’s the same look he gives me when he knows I’m not telling him something.
Like the time I hit a cricket ball and accidentally smashed the head off Dad’s favourite garden statue and I was too scared to confess.
Like the time I accidentally left the fish from the market in Dad’s ute and he was wondering what the smell was a week later.
Like the time I tried to prank Matthew by putting cling wrap across the toilet but I got Dad instead.
‘What’s wrong, James?’ he asks, putting the lid on his whiteboard marker. ‘This is supposed to be exciting.’
I fidget nervously with my fingers before coming out with it.
‘Me, Luke, Ben, Gerard, Tawera, Patty, Dexter and Tobias are the only definites,’ I tell him.
Dad looks puzzled.
‘Milos?’ he asks.
‘Melbourne,’ I say.
‘Hassan?’
‘Soccer,’ I say.
‘Tho
mas?’ he asks.
‘Same as Hassan.’ I show Dad the whole list, but in typical Tedesco style, nothing is going to beat him.
‘Oh well, let’s work with what we’ve got,’ he says cheerfully. ‘We’ll find some new players later. But for now, it’s bedtime.’ He yawns. As Dad lifts the whiteboard off the workbench and onto the tractor trailer ready for tomorrow, I catch a glimpse of what awaits us in the morning.
Something tells me that I need to get some sleep too.
Better out than in!
Don’t bottle things up. Speak to those around you. Help is just a conversation away.
CHAPTER 2
THE GOAT WHISPERER
Dad’s been up since before sunrise mowing the field and repainting the sidelines. His whiteboard stands proudly on the back of the trailer in the middle of the paddock. Matt and I have helped him get the witches’ hats, balls and equipment ready.
Soon, there’s a steady line of cars coming up the farm’s long, winding driveway. Parents drop their boys at the top of the paddock, wave at Dad and thank him for giving their sons the chance to play footy again.
‘It’s nothing, really,’ Dad says humbly through their car windows. But deep down, I know he has the same dream that I have – to beat Coach Sharpe and those show-offs in Camden Red.
As I watch the boys arrive in their training gear, I realise that the last time we all played together was last season for the Menangle Meerkats. Like a well-oiled machine, the eight of us come to the middle of the field and begin our stretches. Dad launches into his welcome speech. ‘Good morning, boys, and welcome to the Camden Rams Blue team,’ he announces.
‘Good mor-ning, Mis-ter Te-des-co,’ the boys say in unison, like they’re saying good morning to their teacher at school.
‘This isn’t class, this is training!’ says Dad, pacing around us. He’s wearing his black rubber knee-high gumboots and red Nike tracksuit. It has COACH printed across the back of the jacket in large white letters. ‘No more Mr Tedesco, you can call me Coach,’ he instructs.
‘Do you reckon we can win the grand final, Coach?’ asks Ben. Dad stops pacing and considers Ben’s question.
‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ Dad says seriously. ‘From what I’ve heard, you fellas need to work on your fitness first.’
Ben, Luke and Gerard look at me
as they realise I must have told Dad how puffed they were after the chase through the mall and our touch footy game yesterday.
‘That’s true,’ says Tobias. ‘Mum just got us a pie maker and that’s all I’ve been eating.’ Everyone looks at Tobias. He’s definitely not in good shape. ‘Meat pies, apple pies, cherry pies, chicken pies, chicken and curry pies, steak pies, steak and mushroom pies –’
‘Okay, time to finish up your stretches now,’ says Dad, trying to refocus us.
‘– beef pies, beef and bacon pies, mushy pea pies –’ continues Tobias.
‘Enough about pies!’ shouts Dad. Tobias stops. Dad looks around at the group.
‘Two laps around the field – no stopping!’ he says, catching us off guard. ‘Anyone who stops will earn the team 20 burpees!’ Everyone looks straight at Tobias.
‘What?’ says Tobias, shrugging.
I lead by example and start the run. ‘Keep a steady pace!’ I tell the team. ‘This is just a warm-up!’ We all complete one lap, but just like yesterday, I can already hear the panting behind me. When I turn around, everyone is red in the face and Tobias has slowed to a shuffle. ‘Come on, guys, we can do this!’ I yell. Gerard has a gritty look of determination on his face. I know he’ll finish this second lap without stopping. Dexter gives me a silent nod. He’ll push through as well.
Half a lap to go. Dad has one leg up on the trailer and is watching us carefully and taking notes on his clipboard. Tobias is gasping for air.
‘Come on, Tobias, you can do it!’ I yell down the field.
‘No . . . no. I . . . can’t,’ he gasps, his knees about to buckle from exhaustion. If he stops we’ll have a penalty of
Patty, our lock, is right near him.
‘Noooooooo!’ screams Patty, almost in slow motion. Patty runs over and catches Tobias by the arm, throwing it around his shoulders. ‘Keep jogging, mate, you’ve got this,’ he encourages Tobias.
Tobias, sweating, puffing and nearly dead, leans heavily on Patty and puts one foot in front of the other. The rest of us cheer them on. Finally, they cross the finish line.
‘Great determination,’ Dad says, running over and patting Tobias and Patty on the back. ‘Great teamwork as well.’ But everyone is concentrating on gulping down water from their drink bottles.
After a couple of minutes’ rest, Dad moves on to the next part of the training session. He tells us to get into pairs and gather around the whiteboard. We listen carefully and study his scribbling and diagrams.
‘This is a fitness circuit,’ he explains. ‘You and your partner have two minutes at each station and will do four laps of the circuit.’
Everyone squabbles about which station they want to start on. Ben and I shotgun the tractor tyre throw. Luke and Gerard bags the shuttle runs. Tawera and Patty start with sit-ups and Dexter and Tobias begin with the boxing pads. Dad tells us to get ready. We all race to our stations and begin when we hear the music coming from the speakers on the back of the trailer. It’s Dad’s favourite band – AC/DC.
After the first two circuits, I notice Dad standing in the middle of his players, proudly watching on as we sweat through his gruelling training session. He taps his foot to the chorus of ‘Thunderstruck’. Suddenly, the smile on his face is replaced by a look of horror.
‘No! No! No!’ he yells, looking off into the distance. ‘Not my roses!’ We all follow his gaze to the side of the field where Dad has his prize-winning rose garden. Munching happily on the soft pink petals of Dad’s blooming flowers is a goat. Not just any goat, but a big daddy billygoat. The bushes have been chewed to pieces and now he’s finishing off the last few flowers.
‘Get him out of there!’ screams Dad. He’s the coach, so that’s exactly what we try to do. We run like a pack of lunatics towards the rose garden. Old man billygoat looks up in fright and sees eight charging 12-year-olds running towards him.
‘Corner him!’ I say, jumping Dad’s wire fence. Any fatigue from the training session has been replaced by pure adrenaline. The goat looks at us and it’s clear he feels threatened by these sweaty boys interrupting his Sunday brunch.
‘Baaaaaa,’ he bleats. As he backs up into the corner of the garden, his red collar rattles around his neck. There’s a shiny gold tag that says ‘Easy Cheesy Farm’ hanging from it.
‘He’s come over from Breeanna’s house, Dad,’ I say.
‘Well, they can replace my roses,’ Dad scowls. The goat is still staring deep into my soul.
‘That’s a good boy, we’re not going to hurt you,’ I say, glancing at his massive pointy horns. The goat stomps his feet. He looks like he’s ready to attack us at any second. Luke comes up next to me.
‘He’s scared. You’re doing this all wrong, Teddy,’ he whispers.
‘What would you do, then?’ I ask, still watching the goat’s every move. Luke does a lot of weird stuff, but today he wins the grand final of weird.
‘This,’ he says. ‘Stand back, everyone.’
We all move back a few steps but Luke steps forward and starts singing.
‘Breeeee-annnna!
Breeeee-annnna!
Eyes like the moon,
Smile like a ray of sunshiiiine.’
Immediately the goat relaxes. He stops stomping and bleating and looks calmly at Luke. Soon enough, he trots over and rubs his head against Luke’s leg like a puppy dog.
‘Whoa!’ we all say.
‘Where did you learn that, bro?’ asks Tawera.
‘Don’t know,’ Luke replies. ‘It’s a gift.’
Meanwhile, Dad has been on the phone to Mr Lee. He and Breeanna speed up the driveway in their ute a
nd come to a screeching halt next to the garden.
‘Take it easy on them, Dad,’ I say quietly. He makes a ‘lips-zipped’ motion with his hand, crosses his arms and rocks from side to side.
‘Sorry about this, John,’ says Mr Lee. ‘I don’t know how Rocco escaped.’
Breeanna comes up and ruffles the hair between Rocco’s horns.
‘He’s always naughty around strangers. How did you get him to behave, Luke?’ she asks.
‘It’s a gift, he reckons,’ says Tawera.
‘Well, thank you, Luke.’ Breeanna smiles, then she gives Luke a hug. He blushes. Lucky there are no trolley boys around.
Mr Lee and Breeanna walk Rocco over to their ute and put him in the back. Just before they drive away, I remember the sign on display in their shop, Easy Cheesy.
‘How do you make cheese from Rocco?’ I yell. Breeanna laughs at me.
‘We make the cheese from the females’ milk. The boys don’t make milk.’ She shakes her head as if this is the silliest thing she’s ever heard.
‘Oh,’ I say, embarrassed.
‘What about pies?’ yells Tobias. ‘Do you make goat pie? Goat and potato pie? Creamy goat and onion pie?’
But Breanna and her dad are already halfway down the driveway in a cloud of dust.
The warm-up
Warming up before you train or play is super important to prevent injuries and to ensure you perform at your peak. I always stretch all body parts from the top down.
CHAPTER 3
YEAH THE BOYS
My eyes open to see the sun shining through my bedroom window and reflecting off my Sydney Roosters alarm clock. Today is a special day. It’s the first time we officially play as Camden Blue. After eating seven Weet-Bix and drinking a cold glass of Milo, I start my pre-game ritual of putting my headphones on and listening to music. Today I’ve chosen my favourite rapper, MC Lil-Earl. As we drive to the game in Mum’s car, which still has the JAMES TEDESCO – SPONSORED BY JULIE’S HAIR AND BEAUTY sticker plastered over it, I visualise the plays we’ve been practising as a team. While our fitness is still improving, we haven’t forgotten any of our skills.