by Felice Arena
The full-back wore him like a second skin, while other players from both sides had moved up forward and positioned themselves around him. Danny was among them, and so was the boy that Coach Pappas had warned his team to ignore – Derek ‘Screamer’ Johnson.
Specky wiggled about in his seat. Screamer was the only player in the opposition side who could match Specky’s awesome high marking ability. He had been moved onto the ball to try and lessen the impact Specky was having on the game. The sight of Screamer on the TV instantly made Specky feel uneasy. He glanced over at Danny. He could see, as the light from the video flickered across Danny’s face, that he looked just as concerned. They both knew exactly what was happening at that point in the game. The memories kept flooding back …
‘This mark is mine, loser,’ Screamer muttered under his breath.
Specky chose to ignore him, as Einstein was still calculating the kicking distance between him and the pack.
‘Did ya hear me? Stinky! That’s what your team calls ya, don’t they?’
Screamer nudged his shoulder into Specky’s back. Specky still didn’t respond.
‘Well, I bet your team calls you Screamer because you scream every time you see the sight of your own ugly face,’ said Danny, quickly coming to Specky’s defence.
‘That’s very funny – for one of Snow White’s dwarfs. Which one are you? Dopey?’
‘Yeah well, fairy tales are about your level. At least I’m a dwarf on the winning side.’
Specky thought this was ridiculous and getting out of hand. While winning a Grand Final was obviously very important for Booyong High, as well as Ridley College, it didn’t mean that they had to come to blows over it. The old saying ‘win at all costs’ just didn’t apply to a school football match. Not if it meant compromising the spirit in which the game should be played.
‘He’s just trying to throw you off your game. Ignore him,’ he told Danny.
‘Yeah, Dwarf Boy, listen to Stinky,’ added Screamer, who wasn’t going to let it go.
‘You’re a jerk,’ Danny mumbled, shaking his head.
Screamer turned and raised his fist at him as if he was about to strike, but he was distracted by Einstein, who was finally taking his kick.
Specky shifted his focus back to the game. He bolted and led for the footy, getting a good metre ahead of the full-back, Screamer, and Danny. But Einstein’s drop punt was a shocker. He had kicked the ball off the side of his boot and had to watch embarrassed as it dribbled along the ground and over the boundary line. While the boundary umpire ran to retrieve it, Screamer headed back to pick on Danny.
‘Right, you,’ he snarled, storming back towards the rover. ‘No one calls me a jerk.’
Danny looked worried. Was this red-headed kid with his black beady eyes really coming over to hit him, or was it just a bluff?
Specky jogged towards Screamer and Danny.
‘Leave him alone!’ he yelled.
Specky wasn’t going to stand by and watch while another player gave Danny a hard time. He always stood up for his friends. Mateship and sticking together was one of the things that Specky loved about playing football, and the strongest teams were made up of players that supported each other when they needed it most. Now was one of those times for Specky, as he could clearly see that Danny was worried. The best thing he could do would be to reason with Screamer – try to convince him to leave them alone and concentrate on getting a kick.
Screamer stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face Specky.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘I said, leave him alone and just play the game.’ Specky was standing directly in front of Screamer. They were about the same height and shape, but Screamer looked mean.
‘Or what?’ said Screamer, puffing out his chest.
‘Or you’ll have …’
‘Danny,’ snapped Specky, stopping his mate mid-sentence and taking a step closer to Screamer. ‘Nothing. Just play the game. That’s why we’re here – the game. Not to pick fights.’
‘Oh, get the violins out. My heart is bleeding,’ moaned Screamer, sarcastically. “Cos we love the game” – what a joke. What do you reckon you are? A TV commercial?’
Specky shook his head in disgust and turned back to face the action, whispering to himself, ‘Yeah, whatever.’
Before Specky realised what was happening, Screamer charged towards him, grabbed him by the jumper, and slung him to the ground. He clasped the back of Specky’s neck and shoved his face into the ground. Specky struggled to breathe, momentarily choking on a mouthful of grass and mud. Danny ran to Specky’s aid and knocked Screamer off him but Screamer just picked himself up and turned on Danny, grabbing him in a headlock.
It was only a matter of seconds before the umpire turned to see what was happening behind play. He sharply blew his whistle to stop the game. He rushed over to the boys, followed by players from all parts of the oval. Specky was still lying stunned in the dirt. At first the umpire, frantically blowing his whistle, found it difficult to separate the two boys wrestling on the ground. But Screamer abruptly got off Danny and swirled his fists about. He punched the air, and Specky was only centimetres away from being hit, as he stumbled back to his feet. Screamer had totally lost control.
Finally, the umpire settled the boys down by physically standing between them.
Danny brushed himself down; his bottom lip was bloody and swollen. Specky fortunately came out of it unscathed. Only his ego was bruised. After the dust had settled, Specky and Danny stared at the culprit who had been at the centre of it all – Derek ‘Screamer’ Johnson. But everyone else seemed to be looking at all three of them. Screamer wiped away the blood and snot that was dripping from his nose; he appeared almost proud, as he smirked and listened to what the umpire had to say.
‘Never, in all my years of umpiring, have I had to deal with anything like this. It’s sickening. You three boys should be disgusted with yourselves. And, in light of what has happened, I’m sending you all off for the remainder of the game.’
Specky and Danny looked at each other, shocked that they were being blamed.
Specky knew that the best way to teach young footballers that there was no place for fighting on the football field was to enforce the send off rule. Bad behaviour could not be tolerated and the umpire had no choice but to make this point clear to the rest of the players. Specky didn’t start the fight and didn’t think that it was his fault they were being sent from the field, but he vowed that he would not disadvantage his side by getting involved in a brawl, ever again. He had learnt that, sometimes, the smartest and bravest thing to do when there was the potential for a fight was to do nothing at all.
Specky had to watch the remainder of his first Grand Final from the bench. It was a day he was never going to forget. And now, for the second time, he had to watch his team play on without him and eventually lose the premiership flag by four points.
3. play & wait
‘I can’t believe she made us watch a video of something we all wanted to forget, especially Specky and me,’ exclaimed Danny, as he ran alongside Specky and Robbo. The boys clip-clopped out of the changing rooms – their footy stops echoing through the corridor – and ran onto their school oval ready to play the first game of the season.
‘Yeah, that was kind of strange. Something tells me Miss Pate’s gonna be a tougher coach than Coach Pappas,’ added Robbo. ‘Whadda ya reckon, Speck?’
‘Well, I’m just glad that it’s a new season. If it weren’t for that Screamer guy that premiership would’ve been ours. You know, my sister told me she heard, from a friend that goes to Ridley College, that he was expelled for supergluing all the sports balls together. All the footies, soccer balls, basketballs – the whole lot, stuck one on top of the other.’
‘What an idiot! I wonder if he’ll be playing footy against us this year?’ asked Danny.
‘Who knows,’ shrugged Specky. ‘I hope not.’ The boys joined the rest of their team-mates, taking up their posi
tions on the ground. Coach Pappas and Miss Pate joined the parents and other onlookers on the boundary line. The Booyong High Lions’ first game was against the Tremont High Tigers. These two teams had a long history as competitive rivals, so everyone expected it to be an exciting battle.
But a few minutes after the first bounce, the sky opened up and the rain pelted down on the boys for the rest of the game. This resulted in a sloppy and unattractive match. It was difficult for either team to take clean possession of the very slippery ball; especially around the centre of the ground, which looked more like a wrestlers’ mud pit than a football oval.
Playing in wet weather conditions was a whole new ball game. Specky was aware that he would have to be able to adapt the way he played according to the conditions. Because football was a winter sport, chances were, at some stage, he would have to play in the wet.
Overhead marking was one of Specky’s great strengths as a footballer, but in the rain it was a lot more difficult. Specky knew that he had to keep his hands a little closer together, and a lot flatter when going for his marks. Instead of taking them with ‘one grab’, he might have to stop the ball first with both hands held flat and control it down to his chest – where he could safely hug it to his body. And he had to get his body right behind the ball when trying to pick it up in slippery conditions. Playing in front was also very important – the ball was wet and heavier than usual so his team-mates kicks would not travel as far and would more than likely fall short.
When the final siren sounded, the two teams were locked together on the scoreboard, 6.12.48 to 7.6.48. It may not have been the greatest spectacle, but the closeness of the scores ensured that Coach Pappas’s send off game would be one to remember. At the time though, most of the team, including Specky, still couldn’t believe that he was actually leaving.
‘Um, I just want to say good luck and thanks for everything you’ve done for us,’ said Specky, as they made their way back to the changing rooms.
‘Well, mate, I’m very touched,’ replied Coach Pappas. ‘I’m going to miss you all, that’s for sure. But, you know, I think you have real talent and I want to wish you all the best, too. I look forward to seeing you play in the AFL one day. And I mean that – I really think you have what it takes to go all the way. But just one final piece of advice: it takes more than just football ability to make it in the big-time. You’ll have to train hard, be disciplined and be prepared to make plenty of sacrifices. Just get your head around that, and the sky’s the limit for you, Speck.’
Specky blushed as he shook the coach’s hand. Miss Pate was standing right behind him.
‘Good game,’ she added, overhearing what Coach Pappas had said. ‘I was impressed by the way you played in this miserable weather.’
Specky felt his cheeks turn bright pink, but he was relieved that Miss Pate wasn’t holding it against him for talking in the changing rooms before the game.
‘Thanks,’ he stuttered, wondering if she could tell that he was nervous talking to her.
‘So, we’ll see you at training,’ Miss Pate continued.
Specky suddenly remembered his father and the trip.
‘Oh, I won’t be at school this week. My dad’s taking me on a trip. But I’ll be back in time for next week’s game,’ he said, glad that he was able to blurt that out, at least.
‘Lucky you. Well, we’ll see you when you get back, then,’ smiled Miss Pate. ‘Try and have a kick while you’re away.’
Specky couldn’t get changed out of his soggy, muddy footy gear, fast enough. He said goodbye to Robbo and Danny, then excitedly jumped into the front seat of his dad’s car.
‘Okay, so where are we going?’ he asked, grinning from ear to ear.
‘Hang on,’ said his dad. ‘How was your game? Did you win?’
‘Not exactly, Dad. But we didn’t lose, either. It was a draw. So tell me. It’s killing me. Where are we going?’
‘We’re not going anywhere right now,’ said his dad, looking apologetic. ‘Our flight has been rescheduled ’til tomorrow because of a pilot strike. I hope you’re not too disappointed.’
Specky was a little let down, but it was no big deal to wait one more night. He spent the rest of the afternoon and evening playing ‘AFL Live’ on his PlayStation, throwing a ball to his dog, Sammy, in the backyard, watching a live game between Hawthorn and the Blues on TV, and chatting on-line with friends:
CHRISkicks: Hey! I thought u were meant to b on some surprise trip? What r u doing on-line?
Specky smiled as he saw the message pop up on his screen. It was his friend Christina Perry – a diehard Blues supporter who was as mad on Aussie Rules as he was. Specky had met Christina on-line, last year. And now, even though they lived in separate suburbs of Melbourne and attended different schools, they had become the best of friends.
FOOTYHEAD: Hey! No, I’m still here. Some dumb pilot strike. But at least I found out we’ll b taking a plane on our surprise trip. We leave tomorrow. How r u?
CHRISkicks: I’m great! The Blues slaughtered the Hawks! Did you c it? So you think all your teams will win?:)
Christina was always teasing Specky about the fact that he barracked for five AFL teams. As long as Specky could remember, he couldn’t support just one team. He was more a fan of the actual game than of any specific club. The teams he did support were sides that he felt he had some personal connection with. Essendon, because if he wasn’t going to grow up to be a professional footy player, he would chase his other dream of becoming a fighter-bomber pilot. West Coast, because his grandfather lived in Perth and every year he would send him a fifty-dollar note in an Eagles birthday card. Brisbane Lions, because his school team was the Lions. And, finally, Sydney and Collingwood, because Robbo and Danny barracked for them.
FOOTYHEAD: I hope they all win!
CHRISkicks: I really think u should pick just one team! And I know what u’re gonna say: ‘but that’s just me!’
FOOTYHEAD: Yeah, I know … but it is! I’ll think about it. We were introduced to our new coach 2day – a woman!
CHRISkicks: Kewl! I bet she’s great! I wish I could play in a team. You know, I heard that my old primary school now has a mixed boys and girls footy team. Can you believe it? 2 years 2 late! Now that I’m nearly 13, I can’t play in any team! Girls can only play footy in mixed teams until they’re 12. It’s so unfair! Girls should b able 2 play with guys, I reckon!
FOOTYHEAD: Yeah, that sux. But it gets kind of rough. Guys play harder and …
CHRISkicks: What!!?? Girls can play as well as boys!!
FOOTYHEAD: No, I didn’t mean …
‘Can you get off-line! I need to type something for school.’ Specky’s older sister, Alice, barged in on him, as she always did whenever he was in the study room in front of the computer.
‘No. I’m chatting here. And it’s Saturday night. Shouldn’t you be out or something?’ exclaimed Specky, who continued to tap at the keyboard without looking up at his sister.
‘Simon, get off! I have an assignment due Monday. Stop talking with your girlfriend about footy.’
‘She’s not my girlfriend.’
‘Yeah, right. You talk to her nearly every day – and all about boring football. Footy isn’t the centre of the universe, you know. There are other things in this world. Now, get off!’
Specky wasn’t listening, he was distracted by Christina’s next message.
CHRISkicks: I challenge u 2 a game of footy!
FOOTYHEAD: What?
CHRISkicks: I’ll get a few of my girl friends and we’ll play against u + your friends. We’ll prove to u that girls play footy just as well or even better than boys do!
FOOTYHEAD: I didn’t mean …
CHRISkicks: Don’t tell me u’re chicken?
‘Simon, I really need the computer, now. I wish you and dad had gone today. Stupid pilot strike.’ Alice stamped her foot and stormed out of the room, frustrated because Specky continued to ignore her.
‘Yeah, well I wish we’
d gone today too. Girls!’ huffed Specky.
FOOTYHEAD: I’m not chicken. It’s just …
CHRISkicks: Chicken!!! Lets make it 2 Sundays from now, on the 6th – 3 of my friends and I, play against you and 3 of your mates at your school oval. Yes or no?
FOOTYHEAD: Chris, I don’t know why …
CHRISkicks: CHICKEN!!!!!!!!!!!!
FOOTYHEAD: Ok, ok!!! You’re on!
By the time Specky logged off, he was totally relieved he didn’t need to deal with Christina or his sister, anymore. As he hopped into bed that night, his mind drifted back to the trip.
‘Sydney would be cool. Or Perth, or even New Zealand,’ he thought, too excited to fall asleep.
4. surprise trip
‘Simon! It’s time,’ Specky’s father whispered loudly, opening the bedroom door and flicking on the light. Specky groaned and buried his head back under his doona.
‘Already? What time is it?’ he mumbled, from beneath a pillow.
‘It’s four-thirty, time to get ready. Come on.’
Specky slowly opened his eyes and glanced over at the football-shaped clock he had won in a school raffle a few years ago. His dad was right – it was really early in the morning. For a moment or so Specky just lay there, contemplating whether it was worth leaving the warmth of his cosy bed to face a chilly winter dawn.
‘Simon, come on! I don’t want us to miss our flight,’ ordered Specky’s dad.
‘Okay. I’m coming,’ replied Specky. He kicked back the sheets and hurriedly got dressed.
Specky quietly closed his bedroom door, and tiptoed down the corridor, so he wouldn’t wake his mum, but he couldn’t resist sneaking over to his sister’s bedroom. He quietly opened her door, picked up a spare pillow that was lying on the floor, and with the deadly precision of a David Neitz drop punt, softly lobbed it onto her peacefully sleeping head.