Billy Slater 1

by Patrick Loughlin

  When he got out to the middle of the field, a few of the boys greeted him with a friendly nod.

  ‘Wanna play, Josh?’ asked Liam. ‘We need one more on our team.’

  ‘You guys can have him. He’s hopeless!’ said Corey.

  ‘Corey, don’t be slack!’ Liam turned to Josh. ‘Just ignore him.’

  ‘What? I’m just being honest,’ Corey shot back.

  Josh could feel his cheeks turning ­beetroot-red. ‘It’s okay. I probably won’t be staying long. I’m just looking for Coach,’ he said quickly.

  ‘He’s not here yet,’ said Liam. ‘Why can’t you stay for training, anyway?’

  ‘Um, I’m probably going to have to quit the team,’ announced Josh.

  ‘Typical!’ said Corey.

  ‘Quit the team? Why?’ asked Liam.

  Josh had to think for a minute. Why was he quitting? ‘Just a bit too busy. I’ve got a lot of stuff going on.’

  ‘What kinda stuff?’ asked Corey.

  Josh gazed intently at a tuft of grass in front of him. ‘Nothing interesting. Just a lot of stuff to do. So . . .’

  ‘But we need you,’ said Liam. ‘We only have Ravi as reserve and . . .’ Liam looked over at Ravi, who was carefully lining up to kick a football. He managed to miss the ball and fall over at the same time. ‘He’s just not that good.’

  Corey gave a snort. ‘He’s terrible!’

  ‘But you just said I was hopeless,’ said Josh.

  ‘You are!’ said Corey. ‘No offence. But maybe if you actually stuck around at training, instead of disappearing all the time, you might get better.’

  ‘Corey has a point – you have missed a bit of training,’ said Liam. ‘Do you really want to quit?’

  ‘Who’s quitting?’ asked a voice behind them.

  The boys turned around to find Billy Slater standing there.

  ‘Hi Billy, where’s Coach?’ asked Corey.

  ‘Steve couldn’t make it today, he’s having car trouble. He asked me to fill in for him,’ said Billy. ‘So, what’s this about someone quitting?’ he asked, looking at Josh.

  ‘Well, it’s just . . . I’m really . . .’ Josh began awkwardly.

  ‘He’s too busy, he’s got stuff to do,’ said Corey.

  ‘Corey, Liam, why don’t you two grab the training kit and set up some markers so we can run drills?’ said Billy. ‘I’d like to talk to Josh for a sec.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Liam.

  Billy waited until the rest of the team was out of earshot. ‘All right, so what’s all this rubbish about quitting? Has this got anything to do with what we talked about the other day?’

  ‘Sort of,’ said Josh. He turned to Billy, his eyes bright with unwelcome tears. ‘I’m just not cut out for footy. At the rate I’m going, I’ll never score a try.’

  Billy raised an eyebrow. ‘Score a try? Is that the only reason you’re playing? You know some players go their whole careers and never score a try.’

  ‘Yeah, forwards. But wingers are sup­posed to score tries, aren’t they?’

  ‘Josh, you don’t have to score a try. You just have to . . . try. Have a go, you know? It’s no wonder you keep dropping the ball when you’re worried about whether you’re going to score or not. Don’t over-think it.’

  ‘But how do I do that?’ asked Josh.

  Billy thought for a moment. ‘Maybe you could try a tip my mum gave me.’

  Josh looked up in surprise. ‘Your mum?’

  ‘Yes, my mum. When I was having a problem with catching bombs it was my mum who fixed it. She told me to imagine catching something I would never drop,’ said Billy.

  ‘So, what did you imagine?’ asked Josh, intrigued.

  Billy grinned. ‘Mum’s lamb roast. There’s no way I’d drop that!’

  ‘And it worked? Catching a lamb roast?’

  ‘Every time,’ said Billy. ‘Look, Josh, I’m not saying that you shouldn’t quit. But quit because you don’t want to play anymore. Don’t quit because you’re scared you’re going to drop the ball or not score. Okay?’

  Josh thought about it for a long moment. Was he just scared of failing? Did he still want to play footy? ‘Okay,’ he said finally.

  ‘Good. Now, let’s do some drills,’ Billy said with a laugh.

  And Josh did. And he had fun. And he didn’t drop the ball, not once.

  When Josh arrived home after training, his head was buzzing. For the first time in weeks, he remembered why he’d wanted to play football. He LOVED it. He loved watching footy and he loved playing footy. It was like someone had switched on a light in his brain. He didn’t have to score. He didn’t even have to catch the ball. He just had to try.

  Josh rushed into the kitchen.

  ‘Waaaaaaaaahhhhhh!’

  A familiar sound filled his ears. Chloe was screaming in her highchair, but Josh didn’t let that dampen his enthusiasm. ‘Mum, are you going to watch me play on Saturday? ’Cause I think it would be really good if you came,’ he blurted out excitedly.

  Mum looked up, surprised. ‘I thought you were quitting the team?’ She stirred Chloe’s stinky baby food and then tasted some to check the temperature.

  ‘Quitting the team?’ echoed Grandad, lowering his newspaper. ‘Why are you quitting the team?’

  ‘I’m not quitting,’ Josh quickly replied.

  ‘You told me you were,’ said Mum.

  ‘Nope, no one’s quitting,’ repeated Josh.

  ‘You’d better not be quitting after I bought you those shoulder pads. They weren’t cheap, you know,’ declared Grandad. ‘Anyway, no grandson of mine is a quitter!’

  ‘I’m not quitting!’ shouted Josh. He turned to his mum. ‘That’s why I want to know if you can come on Saturday.’

  ‘Josh, there’s no need to shout, you’ll upset your sister,’ Mum said, raising her voice.

  ‘But she’s already screaming. And you’re shouting, too!’

  ‘Don’t be cheeky to your mother, Josh,’ said Grandad. ‘Mind your manners.’

  Josh let out a loud sigh. ‘I just want to know if Mum’s coming to the game! Is that too much to ask?’

  ‘Well, Josh, it’s very hard to get to the games when your father’s away and I’ve got Chloe. It’s hard to get anything done. You’re just lucky that your grandfather is here to take you, or you wouldn’t be able to play football at all.’

  ‘You’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?’ spat Josh with all the spite he could muster.

  ‘Oh, stop being ridiculous,’ said Mum. ‘It’s not the Josh Brown Show, you know. We’re a family. Stop being selfish and make yourself useful by feeding the dog, or no one will be going to the game on Saturday.’

  Josh didn’t say another word. Instead, he stormed out of the kitchen to sulk on the back step, with Harry by his side. ‘Come on, boy, I’ll get you some dinner,’ Josh said to a hungry-looking Harry. ‘At least you listen to me.’

  As he gave Harry a final scratch under his chin Josh glanced up at the stars in the sky, but there were none to be found.

  There was an uncomfortable silence as Josh and his grandad headed to the ground for Round 4, against the Willamurra Wolves. His grandad wasn’t listening to the radio for once. There was just the rattle of the motor and the low whistling of the autumn wind outside.

  Josh stared out at the bleak grey sky. It was a dull, dreary day. And it was just him and Grandad. His mum had been up all night with Chloe, and she had still been in bed when they had left the house.

  ‘So . . .’ his grandad said, finally breaking the silence, ‘your dad said you’re embarrassed by my barracking at the games.’

  Oh, great work, Dad. Thanks a lot. ‘You spoke to Dad?’

  ‘Last night.’

  Josh could tell that Grandad wasn’t happy. But he didn’t sound grumpy, either.
There was something in his voice that Josh hadn’t heard before. He sounded hurt. ‘Sometimes it’s a bit . . . distracting when you yell stuff,’ said Josh, trying to think of a nice way of putting it.

  ‘That’s all right, Josh. I get it. You don’t need some old fool yelling out rubbish from the sidelines in front of all your teammates. I just want you to know that I only do it so you know someone is on your side. I just want you to be the best you can be.’

  Josh felt awful. His grandad’s voice sounded raspy and soft as if he were about to cry, and it was all his fault. ‘I really don’t mind that much – yell whatever you want. I’ll wear earplugs.’

  Grandad laughed. ‘No need for that. Anyway, you won’t have to worry today, because I have a little errand to run.’

  ‘You won’t be watching me?’ Josh was surprised to find himself feeling disappointed rather than relieved.

  ‘You’ll be right, lad. Just know that every time you run out onto that field I’m already proud of you,’ said Grandad, giving Josh the tiniest of smiles.

  They pulled into the Wolves’ home ground and Josh slowly climbed out of the car. He looked back at his grandad.

  ‘Go on then. Get going.’ Grandad paused for a moment. ‘And, Josh, remember – it’s just a little game of footy.’

  Josh nodded and watched as the battered old Land Cruiser pulled out of the car park.

  I guess I’m on my own then, thought Josh. He swung his backpack onto his shoulder and walked off to find his team.

  The Ravens Under 11s sat in the visitor change sheds, listening to Coach Steve’s final instructions.

  Josh could feel those familiar butterflies fluttering inside him, but he was determined not to let them win today. He glanced around at his teammates. They looked focused, ready. Some were tapping their boots on the ground or shaking their knees. Tai was bouncing a football against the wall. Perhaps they were all a bit nervous, too.

  Josh began shaking his knees. It seemed to help a little. Soon he was stomping his boots on the ground as well.

  After a few stretches and a pass of the ball, Coach said it was time to take the field.

  Josh took a deep breath. Just a little game of footy.

  Liam led them onto the field, and the family and friends on the Ravens’ side cheered.

  No one’s cheering for me, Josh thought glumly. Then, from the corner of his eye, Josh noticed a familiar face. He broke into a smile and waved.

  Billy gave him a fist pump in return. ‘Try,’ he mouthed, and Josh nodded. He was determined to.

  The whistle blew and the game began.

  The first half was hard. Both teams defended well. Josh wasn’t the best at tackling, but he remembered the tips that Billy had given him at training and managed to make three good tackles.

  When the Ravens won a scrum in the opposition half, it was the real moment of truth. Jack Monroe, the Ravens’ lock, made a great bustling run up the right-hand side.

  ‘Jack!’ Josh called, running beside him.

  Hearing his name, the forward glanced over his shoulder and spotted Josh. He floated a pass to Josh, just as he was tackled by the opposition. The pass was a high one, and Josh reached up to take it. He tried to imagine it was something important, something that he wouldn’t drop. Then he was hit by the fullback, and the ball went bouncing away over the sideline.

  Josh crumpled onto the ground. He could hear Corey from somewhere behind him. ‘Told you he was hopeless!’

  He felt a hand on his jersey, pulling him to his feet. ‘Good try, Josh,’ panted Liam. ‘Keep it up.’

  Josh got to his feet and dusted himself down. ‘Thanks, Liam,’ he said with a grin. Maybe this is fun, he thought.

  At half-time, the score was locked at 0–0.

  The boys sat eating their orange quarters in their half of the field. Josh was breathing hard. He had run flat out for the first half, and it felt good. But he knew it wasn’t quite enough. Somewhere in the second half there was a pass with his name on it, and this time he would have to be ready.

  As Coach Steve started waggling his arms to make his trademark ‘Ravens, fly!’ rev-up, Josh noticed a ray of sunshine poking through the clouds. Maybe it was a sign.

  The ref’s whistle blew to start the second half, and the Ravens didn’t exactly get off to the best start. Matthew Miller, the Miller twin whom the whole team had nicknamed ‘Michael’ simply because his brother’s name was Jackson, dropped the ball from the kick-off. They weren’t a minute into the half and the Wolves already had a set of six deep in the Ravens’ territory.

  After three repeat sets, the Ravens could hold out the Wolves no longer. When the Ravens’ other winger, Nick Raco, and their fullback, Cameron, collided with each other in an attempt to ground a grubber kick, the Wolves scored in the corner. Suddenly, it was 4–0.

  The Wolves missed the conversion from out wide and the Ravens knew they were still in it. But as the game went on, it didn’t look like they would ever get the chance to score. The Wolves’ defence was just too strong. They got off their line quickly and pushed back the Ravens with two-man tackles. The Ravens were struggling to even make it out of their own half.

  With ten minutes left, a tired Wolves forward failed to get back the five metres in time and was caught offside. The Ravens received a penalty. This was their chance.

  ‘Let’s go, boys!’ called Coach Steve, clapping his hands.

  The Ravens took the tap. This is it, thought Josh. The ball is coming to me. Any second now.

  Azza passed to Tai, who dummied and spun and off-loaded to Liam.

  Fifteen metres.

  Liam zigzagged and got an off-load to Jackson.

  Ten metres.

  Jackson ran straight and hard, then passed it to Corey, who turned to find Josh running outside him. Josh could tell that Corey wasn’t keen to pass it to him.

  Here goes nothing, thought Josh.

  Five metres.

  ‘Corey, I’m open!’ Josh yelled.

  Corey hesitated for a moment. Then he finally passed the ball to Josh, just as a defender dived at his waist.

  It was a terrible pass – wide and high. As Josh raised his hands to catch the ball, he heard a familiar sound from the crowd.

  ‘Waaaaaahhhhh!’

  Josh would recognise that cry anywhere. It was Chloe. Josh no longer saw the ball floating towards him. Instead, he saw his baby sister tumbling through the air.

  Two metres.

  He plucked Chloe from the air and looked down to see the football in his hands.

  Hey, it worked! thought Josh, just as two Wolves defenders leapt at him. But Josh was too fast for them. He dived for the line, the ball in his outstretched hands, and landed with a thud on the turf.

  The crowd gasped.

  Josh looked up to see the ball in his hands and his hands on the white line.

  He was over! He had scored a try.

  Before Josh could make it to his feet, his teammates piled on top of him in a celebratory stacks-on. They pulled him up and began ruffling his hair and high-fiving him.

  Even Corey congratulated him. ‘Well done, Brown. You didn’t drop it.’

  ‘Um, thanks, Corey . . . I guess.’ Josh turned to the crowd and, sure enough, there was his mother and Chloe. They had made it, after all. But it wasn’t just them – his dad and grandad were standing there as well, waving and cheering. So this was the errand Grandad had to run!

  ‘On ya, Joshie! I knew you could do it!’ shouted Grandad, and this time Josh wasn’t embarrassed at all.

  Standing right beside his family were Coach Steve and Billy, both of them grinning from ear to ear. Billy gave Josh a big thumbs-up.

  As it happened, the Ravens didn’t convert the goal and neither team managed to post any more points. By the time the final whistle blew, the score was locked at 4–4. It was a draw.


  The team was disappointed, but as Josh shook hands with the other players, he didn’t feel that bad that they hadn’t won. The Wolves had played just as well as they had, and a draw seemed like the fairest result.

  Josh ran straight to his dad and hugged him so hard he almost knocked him over. ‘I can’t believe you came!’ shouted Josh.

  ‘I couldn’t miss your first try, could I?’ said his dad.

  ‘With speed like that, it will be the first of many,’ Grandad said, with a wink at Josh.

  Josh tickled his sister. ‘I owe it all to Chloe – she was my inspiration.’

  ‘Well, in that case, maybe you can change her for me,’ said Mum. ‘She’s left a little inspiration in her nappy for you.’

  ‘Eww! Mum, that is so gross.’

  His mum laughed. ‘I know. But I am very proud of you, Joshie.’

  Before Josh could think any more about the contents of his sister’s nappy, Billy was standing next to him. ‘Hey, Josh, you never told me that your grandfather is Keith “Bumper” Brown. The man’s a living legend!’

  ‘What, you mean Grandad?’ asked Josh.

  ‘He only played in one of the greatest grand finals of all time! My dad’s always going on about it,’ said Billy.

  ‘You didn’t tell me you played first grade, Grandad!’ cried Josh.

  His grandfather grinned and held up his hands. ‘You never asked me.’

  ‘After your performance today, maybe you’ll follow in his footsteps, hey?’ said Billy.

  Josh sighed. ‘We still didn’t win.’

  ‘Well,’ said Billy, scratching his chin, ‘the thing about footy is, there’s always next week.’

  ‘Unless you’re still thinking about quitting?’ said Coach Steve.

  Josh gave a sheepish grin. ‘Um, I think I’ll stick it out. I’m starting to get the hang of it.’

  ‘That you are, my boy. That you are,’ said Grandad. ‘Now, who wants to buy me a sausage sandwich? I’m starving.’