Red vs Blue
Page 5
I’ve missed the conversion.
The ball swings inside the posts and we remain on ten points. We only have one half left to play.
This game will go down to the wire, and my unsuccessful conversion might have lost it for us.
I’ve let everyone down.
Fending off
Use the fend when trying to get away from a defender: stiff arm, open hand, and push off the defender’s chest with your free hand.
CHAPTER 11
HANG IN THERE
We’re tired.
Cooked.
Gassed.
Exhausted.
With no reserves, we’ve kept the score to 12–10.
There are only 12 minutes to go in the second half.
Mount Annan’s attack is relentless and they’ve completed at least three sets of six down our end of the field. Our defence is courageous, but the cracks are starting to appear.
‘Communicate!’ I yell. ‘Say which player you’re marking!’
‘I can’t breathe, Teddy!’ gasps Soli. ‘Can I have a rest?’
‘No, Soli! I need you to hang in there!’ I say.
He nods and wipes the sweat pouring off his forehead onto his jersey. The Mount Annan attackers can see that Soli is vulnerable and run the ball at him. He’s slow on his feet and dives to tackle their runner but grasps at thin air. The Mount Annan player moves towards the right of the field with nearly his whole team in support.
‘Mikayla, come across and help!’ I scream.
As Mikayla flies across the field, it’s up to me and her to stop them from scoring.
‘Stay on those two!’ I say. ‘I’ll take these three!’
But the maths doesn’t work to our advantage. Five players on two players means that we’re greatly outnumbered. Mount Annan zigzag the ball across their five attackers until their winger finds our weak spot. He speeds ahead in an unmarked part of the field and scores an easy try under the goalposts. Mount Annan rush in and celebrate, surrounding their scoring player.
‘Sorry, Teddy,’ says Mikayla. Her hands are on her hips and she’s puffing.
‘We were outnumbered,’ I say.
The rest of Camden Blue jog up the field and I can see they’re dead on their feet. This time, Soli’s not the only one whose lungs are burning.
‘Come on, guys – hang in there!’ I plead. ‘You’re all playing so well.’
The Mount Annan kicker is lining up for his conversion from right in front.
‘If he kicks this, tonight is over for us,’ Tobias says despondently. A few of the others murmur in agreement.
‘No way, it’s not even close to being over,’ says a soft voice behind me. It’s Luke. I’m the only one who has heard him. I’m waiting for him to do a stirring victory speech, but when I turn around, he’s distracted by something in the grandstand.
‘What did you say?’ I ask. This time Luke repeats himself, but is ten times louder than before.
‘GUYS, IT’S NOT EVEN CLOSE TO BEING OVER!’ he screams, pointing directly into the grandstand. ‘BREEANNA, THIS GAME IS FOR YOU!’ he yells.
The Mount Annan player’s kick is successful, but we’re all looking at Breeanna sitting in the grandstand, next to Rocco, her family’s prize-winning goat. GO LUKE is painted in large blue letters on Rocco’s side.
‘Mount Annan increase their lead,’ echoes the ground announcer’s voice from the loudspeakers. ‘Mount Annan 18, Camden Blue 10.’
‘Eight minutes to go,’ says Luke, half looking at us while half looking back at Breeanna. Or Rocco. Or both of them. Rocco’s looking straight at Luke, which is a little bit freaky. ‘We can still win this – we just need to get ten points,’ he says.
Easier said than done, but Luke’s right. We can win this.
‘Gerard, your turn to kick. Aim low, grubber if possible, please,’ I say as we run back to halfway. ‘Luke, I’ll chase and you run support, okay?’
‘Got it,’ says Luke.
‘Channel your energy into scoring a try,’ I say. ‘Breeanna will love you for it!’
‘Will she ever!’ says Luke with the biggest grin. He spins around like someone in love in one of those old-fashioned black and white movies.
‘What the heck is wrong with him?’ asks Gerard with a look of bewilderment on his face.
‘Just go with it,’ I say. ‘Remember, grubber kick.’
Gerard does exactly that, and the ball ricochets off the side of his foot and bounces aggressively along the ground, making it extremely hard to pick up. With all the speed I can muster, I track the ball like a ballistic missile, following each bump, angle and turn that it takes. Finally, as the ball makes one last bounce upward towards the Mount Annan fullback, I also make a challenge for it and clasp it cleanly in my hands.
‘Camden Blue takes possession!’ yells the referee.
Their fullback reacts quickly and grips me tightly around the waist, but sure enough, Luke is right there next to me, just like I asked him to be.
‘I’ve got you on the right, Teddy!’ Luke yells.
I spin in the tackle and pass to Luke, who is nearly unmarked. He catches it and moves quickly upfield, the cover defence closing in on him fast.
‘I‘M OPEN!’
yells Mikayla. Luke knows he’s about to be tackled, so he throws a clean ball to Mikayla, who’s staying just inside the white paint of the sideline. The same defenders who were zeroing in on Luke now move towards her. If she gets tackled, they will send her into touch. If she passes, Luke is now open and can score. Mikayla draws them across as far as she safely can. Just as they commit to the tackle, she lollipops a high ball over to Luke, above the defenders’ heads. The ball floats backwards and lands gently in Luke’s hands. He’s the only person in sight of the tryline and he dives over, right under the goalposts.
Camden Blue rush in to congratulate our scorer but he’s already running towards the fence separating the field from the spectators. In a flash he’s balancing on the fence, making a love-heart shape with his hands over his chest and smiling up at Breeanna. Then he points at her and does a backflip off the fence, landing back on the playing field.
The familiar voice of the ground announcer fills the air again. ‘Luke Pollard, playing second row for Camden Blue, scores a magnificent try! Love is in the air, folks!’
With no time to waste, I kick the conversion. Shawn and his mates are on the other side of the field, so this time I don’t hear their nonsense. Four minutes to go. The scoreboard lights up on top of the western grandstand as we race back to our positions, ready to receive the ball from Mount Annan again.
This time it’s a short kick-off that only goes 20 metres. Tawera isn’t expecting it. The ball floats across the field to him at centre, but as he jumps to catch it, he is challenged by Mount Annan’s winger. Arms and legs windmill through the air, but the Mount Annan winger is too quick this time. He crashes to the ground with the ball and Mount Annan get the sniff of another try. I can see their hooker behind the winger about to play the ball. The hooker is ready to scoot forward and catch us off guard.
‘He’s going to run, watch him!’ I yell. Fortunately, Luke senses the hooker’s move as well. Luke, now with the wind in his sails, races up on their hooker and completes a one-on-one strip. With the stolen ball in his hands, Luke moves sideways and tries to run up the centre of the field, but he’s stopped quickly by a wall of strong Mount Annan forwards. They drive him into the damp grass, but he hangs on to the ball. Unfazed, he springs to his feet.
‘I’m okay!’ he yells out to Breeanna. ‘Don’t worry about me!’
‘Hurry up and play the ball, dude,’ Ben says behind him. Two minutes on the clock. Amiri gets the first run and rumbles forward like a steam train, skittling the defence until they hang on desperately and he finally trips over the players underneath him. I scan the field in front of me, looking for an opportunity or a gap to run at. Finally, I see half a chance between their five-eighth and centre. I whistle over at Mikayla. She r
aises her eyebrows to indicate she’s already seen what I have. Game on.
‘Mine, Ben, mine!’ I yell, leaping out of position and brushing past our forwards like a rude kid jumping the queue at McDonald’s. Ben throws the ball and I have a Spidey senses moment with a game of join-the-dots:
– Run at the centre and throw a dummy towards Mikayla / Step left. Dot joined.
– Put the ball under my other arm and fend their five-eighth as he moves in / Watch him faceplant. Dot joined.
– Angle my run inward and call for Mikayla to follow on the outside / Draw their winger off the line. Dot joined.
– When the winger has created a gap in defence and is running at me, pass to Mikayla. Dot joined.
– Watch Mikayla run a sharp angle infield and outrun their fullback. He has no chance. Mikayla sprints like her life depends on it. She dives under the posts and scores, sliding across the slippery grass. Mission accomplished!
It’s Camden Blue 20, Mount Annan 18!
The boys rush in and crowd Mikayla. Dad’s so happy he’s doing the ‘Macarena’ again on the sideline. I rush back and set up for the kick. I know I can kick this one with my eyes closed. I can hear the boos and comments coming from Shawn and his Camden Red crew, but this time it’s in one ear and out the other.
The ball sails between the posts with only 30 seconds to go. When Mount Annan kick off, we hold the ball as if our lives depend on it, and the score stays at 22–18. When the fulltime siren sounds, we all realise: we’ve won our first game as Camden Blue!
Dad runs onto the field and hugs us all. It feels like we’ve won the grand final even though it’s just a normal round game. It feels so good because for the first time, we’ve played like a team and believed in ourselves.
In fact, if we can keep this up, we might even have a chance of beating Camden Red.
Sidestepping
Shift your weight through the leg you’re stepping off, press off the inside off your foot and push through the ground to beat a defender. Always maintain balance, and keep your eyes on the defender.
CHAPTER 12
DOG‘S BUTT, BATMAN & ROBIN
Lewis and I are at the mall again.
We peer around the corner near the Donut King entry to make sure no one’s watching, then use the service lift to travel down to the bottom level of the basement.
So far, our hiding spot for the 3D printer has kept Lewis out of trouble at home, and the best part is that he’s been busy printing off a heap of Stealth-Stud soles. The darkest corner of the basement looks like a mad scientist’s laboratory, with the 3D printer, tools, power cords and spotlights spread across the concrete floor. In one of the Batman movies, Bruce Wayne and Lucius Fox keep all of Batman’s gadgets in an underground bunker like this. Well, if I’m Batman, then Lewis is Robin. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Lewis is running this show.
Lewis reaches up and puts his hand in a hidden nook within the concrete wall next to the service lift. ‘Check these out,’ he says.
He’s holding a 3D printout of our Stealth-Stud design. The studs and sole are fluoro orange, just like the ones that the NRL players use. Lewis is displaying them like they are valuable gemstones. And just like diamonds, the tips of the studs shine in the glow of the spotlights that Lewis is using to illuminate the basement.
‘No way!’ I gasp. ‘They are awesome!’
‘Aren’t they just,’ Lewis says with a satisfied look on his face. For a minute, we stand in silence, admiring the Stealth Studs, like Willy Wonka inspecting one of his delicious creations in the chocolate factory. The silence is broken by a noise in the distance. It’s probably a car door closing in the carpark above us.
‘So how do we turn these into a proper footy boot?’ I ask.
‘What do you mean?’ says Lewis.
‘Well, these are just the soles – the bottom of the shoe,’ I say. ‘They need to be attached to the part you put your foot in and lace up.’
The penny drops and Lewis realises that we are only halfway there. Lewis is great at the scientific side of things, but I’m good at making it all come together.
‘Any ideas?’ asks Lewis, shrugging.
‘Miss Warren will help us,’ I say. ‘She is sure to have some advice about how we can design the top half.’
The same sound as before echoes through the cool air of the basement.
But this time it’s louder.
We spin around towards the fire exit door, which is in the dim back corner of the basement. Three dark shadows are standing in front of it. As they come closer and cross the beam of the spotlights, I recognise them.
‘Pssst, hide the Stealth Studs,’ I whisper. Lewis shoves them behind his back.
The shadowy figures are now in full view. They squint at us through the brightness of the lights shining in their eyes.
‘Turn those lights on them, not us!’ instructs the one in the middle. It’s Damir, the trolley boy, and two of his trolley boy gang members. The one with the patchy beard who Gerard called Dog’s Butt spins the spotlight stand around so the lights are shining directly on us instead.
We look like we’re in one of those movies where the baddies are being interrogated by the cops.
‘Well, well, well,’ sneers Damir. ‘It’s Loser Number Two who was helping Loser Number One steal my girlfriend.’
He steps closer and looks around the basement. ‘And what’s going on here?’ he asks menacingly.
I can hear Lewis breathing. He’s scared. He doesn’t like conflict.
‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘Just helping the janitor with some jobs.’
‘LIAR!’
hisses Damir.
He steps forward and punches me in the stomach.
I’m winded and fall to my knees. I can hear Damir’s mates laughing as I gasp for air. It’s the worst pain in the world.
‘Do you want some of that too?’ Damir says to Lewis.
‘N - N - NO,’
stutters Lewis.
I get up on one knee and raise my head to see Damir walking over to the school’s 3D printer and running his greasy fingers over it.
‘What’s this?’ he says, looking back at us. ‘I bet it’s worth some decent coin.’
Before I can make something up and tell him it’s worthless, like a computerised apple peeler, Lewis comes clean.
‘It’s a 3D printer that lets you print anything you want,’ he blurts out.
Damir smiles, showing his yellow teeth, which are stained from too many energy drinks.
‘I’ve heard of those,’ says Dog’s Butt. ‘You can print your own weapons and fake credit cards.’
I’m not surprised it’s the illegal items he homes in on. It’s not like he’d use it to make a vase for some flowers or a bookmark.
‘We’ll take it then,’ says Damir. ‘Thanks for your generosity.’
‘Hey, that’s not yours!’ I say, finally getting back on my feet. Damir begins to walk over.
‘Want another one of these?’ he asks, holding up his fist.
‘Just take it,’ says Lewis. ‘Please don’t hurt my friend again.’
They all laugh and the sound bounces off the concrete floor and walls of the basement. Dog’s Butt unplugs the printer and hefts it up under his arm.
‘Don’t hurt my friend,’ he mimics as they saunter back to the fire escape.
When they’re gone, we slump to the ground. I’m still in pain and Lewis is crying.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask.
Lewis doesn’t answer for a bit. He sniffs and wipes his eyes on the back of his hand.
‘What are we going to tell Miss Warren? And I should have stuck up for you,’ he says. ‘I should have done something, but I was scared.’
‘It’s okay,’ I say. ‘There were three of them and –’
‘It’s not okay!’ Lewis interrupts. He’s not angry with me, he’s angry with himself. ‘Look at the size of me! You’re braver than I am and I’m twice as big as you!’
I place a
hand on his shoulder.
‘It really is okay, Lewis,’ I say. ‘You just need to build your self-confidence, that’s all.’
‘Shame!’ He sniffles. ‘And how do I do that?’
‘You mean build self-confidence?’ I ask him.
‘Yeah,’ he says.
‘I have an idea,’ I say. ‘Are you free on Tuesday afternoon?’
Dummy passes
You have to convince a defender you are going to throw a real pass so set up a dummy pass just like a real one. Hold the ball out in front before shaping to throw the pass.
CHAPTER 13
ARMPIT STINK
Sometimes I’m my own worst enemy. If I make a mistake on the field, I think about it morning, noon and night. It replays in my head so much that sometimes I find it hard to get to sleep. Last night was no different. Even though we beat Mount Annan yesterday, I can’t get my missed conversion out of my mind. I’m not cranky at Shawn or Krispen for putting me off; I’m cranky at myself for letting them get to me.
The sun is beginning to creep through my curtains. I rub my eyes and estimate that I’ve only had a few hours’ sleep. We play Camden Red next weekend. I can’t go into the game doubting my kicking ability. I also can’t prepare for such an important game with so little sleep. I decide to use one of my strategies that helps me deal with my overthinking. This morning I’m going to take control. Right now. This very instant. At five-thirty in the morning.
I throw off my warm Roosters doona and strap on my boots. They click-clack as I walk down the hallway towards my brother Matthew’s room. His door is closed and has a DO NOT ENTER sign that he found on the ground near the old Menangle footy fields. Under the sign is a Parramatta Eels team poster with big globs of Blu Tack sticking out at the corners. I ignore the sign and turn the doorhandle. Matt’s room stinks of dirty socks.
‘Matt!’ I say. ‘I need to do kicking practice. Want to play Best Out of Ten?’ He mumbles something and turns over on his stomach, shoving the pillow over his head. ‘Matt! I know you can hear me,’ I say to him, walking over his dirty socks and undies which are strewn across his floor like landmines. I poke him in the shoulder until he takes the pillow off his head.