by Felice Arena
Screamer deliberately stomped down each step until he got to Specky.
‘How d'ya find out?’ he hissed.
‘I saw you at the cemetery, on the day of Danny's grandmother's funeral. I saw your brother's grave. I wasn't sure if I should talk to ya about it or not. And don't worry, I haven't told anyone.’
Screamer moved closer to Specky. His eyes were dark and cold. Specky clenched his fists, ready to defend himself, just in case.
‘How'd he die?’ asked Specky, knowing it probably wasn't the best thing to ask.
Screamer stood still and stared.
‘Was it some sort of accident?’ croaked Specky, uncomfortably.
Screamer still didn't respond.
‘Look, I'm sorry for you, mate. I don't know what I'd do if I were in your situation. And I know the pressure you get from your old man, but—’
‘He was hit by a car.’
Specky stopped talking.
‘He was playing footy with his friends. Not a game. Just kick-to-kick,’ Screamer said, his voice beginning to crack. ‘I, um, I…’
He took a deep breath.
‘I was running over to him to see if I could join in and one of his mates kicked the ball over his head onto the road. As Craig ran for it, I called out to him.’
Screamer's eyes began to well with tears. He quickly wiped them away with the back of his sleeve.
‘He didn't see the car. I didn't see it. If I hadn't called out to him and distracted him, he might've seen it.’
Screamer dropped his head and sniffed. Specky wasn't sure what to say. Screamer took a few minutes to compose himself.
‘What did ya mean about the pressure I get from my old man?’ Screamer asked, raising his head, his eyes red.
‘I heard your mum say that you're not Craig and…’ Specky stopped, wondering whether he should go on or not.
‘And what?’ pushed Screamer.
‘And, well, I think even though you love your footy, maybe you'd rather be a musician, but maybe you feel pressure to be like your brother to make your dad happy. Maybe you feel a little bit guilty, too.’
Specky thought he probably sounded like that Dr Phil guy from the TV, but he had only said what he believed to be true. In all the time he had known Screamer, he had never understood why he was the way he was until this very moment.
‘So, maybe you've got to start thinking about what you want,’ Specky added quickly, noticing Screamer's face hardening again. ‘So, do the audition. Not for your dad or your mum or even for Craig. Do it for yourself.’
‘Derek!’
It was Mr Li gesturing for Screamer to come inside.
Specky waited for Screamer to say something, but he didn't. He just turned and headed into the building.
19. state trial
Mr Magee and Specky pulled up outside Princes Park, the home of the Carlton Football Club. There was already a big crowd heading into the ground, made up mostly of the family and friends of the forty boys who were hoping to make the Victorian side.
Everyone was aware that all the recruiting officers of the AFL clubs would be in attendance, as well. Although most of these boys were only 14, the reality was that some of them were only three years away from being eligible to be selected in the national draft. A lot could happen in the space of three years, but there was no doubt that the recruiting officers would leave today's trial game with more than a couple of names jotted down in their little black books for future reference. This just added to the sense of excitement and anticipation.
As Specky entered the change rooms the first thing he noticed were the photos hung on the walls of the club rooms. All of the legends of the Carlton Football Club were honoured with action shots from their playing days. There was John Nicholls, the captain of their team of the century, and Alex Jesaulenko, taking one of the most famous specky-marks of all time in the 1970 Grand Final. There were pictures of Stephen Kernahan, Steven Silvagni, Greg Williams and Craig Bradley, four of the greatest players of the modern era.
‘Pretty cool, huh?’
It was Brian Edwards. He walked alongside Specky, every bit as awe-struck about being there as Specky was.
‘You know, I barrack for the Mighty Blues,’ Brian said proudly. ‘Greg Williams was unbelievable. I've got seventeen video tapes at home of his best games. He's the player I've tried to base my game on. If I could be one hundredth of the player he was, I'd be happy.’
‘Yeah, he was awesome,’ agreed Specky.
‘How ya feeling?’ Brian asked.
‘I'm nervous as hell,’ replied Specky.
‘Try to think of it as just another game of footy. That's what I'm doing. It's probably the most important game I've ever played in, but it's still just a game,’ shrugged Brian.
Specky marvelled at how cool and calm Brian was as they walked to the lockers and put their bags away.
‘Don't get changed next to him, boy!’ Mr Johnson motioned Screamer to choose another locker not so close to Specky. ‘Get over the other side of the room.’
Specky pulled a face. He noticed Screamer was doing his best not to make eye contact. Specky wondered how he had gone at the audition—whether he had even turned up.
There's no way he's gonna tell me, not with his old man right by his side all the time, Specky thought. Besides, there's nothing else I can do. It's up to him now. His life is his life.
‘Righto, you guys!’ bellowed Grub Gordan, marching into the rooms. ‘You can start to get changed. We've picked two teams and they're written up on the whiteboard in the coaches’ room. One team will wear blue jumpers and the other will wear white. The Blue team will stay here with Evan Dillon and the white team will go next door with Bob Stockdale.’
Evan Dillon and Bob Stockdale stepped up beside Grub Gordan.
‘I'll float between both sides,’ he continued. ‘But I want to be able to sit back and have a good look at all of you, so these guys will be in charge for the day. Now, off you go. There will be a team meeting in thirty minutes.’
All of the boys rushed to the coaches’ room to find out where they were playing. Specky frantically searched for his name and finally found it. He had been named on the half-forward flank for the White team.
Screamer was in the forward pocket and, much to Specky's delight, Brian Edwards had been picked in the centre on the same team.
‘Looks like I'll be putting a few Sherrins down your throat today, Simon,’ said Brian.
‘Well, you pass 'em and I'll grab 'em,’ answered Specky, pleased that he would have at least one familiar face in his side, other than Screamer's.
‘And, by the way, no one calls me Simon. Just Specky will do.’
‘Specky, huh?’ Brian replied. ‘That's cool. I like it. I hope you can live up to your nickname, Specky.’
Once the boys had changed into their gear and laced up their boots, Grub Gordan called them into the coaches’ room.
‘Boys, I'm not going to take much of your time here,’ he said, with the sound of the ice machine buzzing faintly behind him. ‘I know some of you are probably nervous and just want to get out there and play, and that's fair enough. The only thing I want to say is that we are not just looking for the best players today. We are looking for the players that can best fit into a team. You may think you have to be one of the best on ground to make the final squad. Take it from me, that's not the case. In fact, if you are best on ground, but you're only playing for yourself and not working with the rest of the team, then the chances are very good that you won't be picked. Do the best you can, but always bear that in mind. I see it all the time in representative sides. Don't be tempted to play for yourself. Good luck and enjoy yourselves.’
As Grub left the room, Specky and the other players made their way out on to the ground for the biggest test of their young football lives.
Specky jogged out to his position on the half-forward flank. He had noticed, as they did their warm-up lap, that not only were his parents there to cheer him on, but so
, it seemed, were half of Booyong High.
Johnny, Robbo, Danny, the Bombay Bullet, Gobba and Smashing Sols were sitting with Alice and the Great McCarthy. Coach Pate was there as well. He also noticed Tiger Girl in the crowd with some of her friends. She had forgiven him for what had happened at the party and they'd shared a few jokes about it. The only person missing was Christina.
Before the ball was bounced, the runner dashed out to Specky from the boundary.
‘Magee, Grub said to swap to the other half-forward flank, and to start up on the side of the centre square a bit. As the ball is bounced, he wants you to run hard into the middle, and if you get possession, you'll then be able to kick the ball straight away on your preferred foot. The other half-forward flanker is a left footer, so it makes sense to swap sides.’
Specky did as the runner told him and swapped places with a solid left-footer from Wonthaggi who answered to the name Gomez.
Gee, that makes sense, Specky thought. Why didn't I think of that?
The ball was bounced and Specky sprinted into the square just as Grub had instructed.
The 195 centimetre ruckman, a kid called ‘Lurch’ Freeman from Sunbury, punched the ball forward, right into Specky's path. Specky picked it up in one smooth motion and without having to change direction, swung onto his right foot. When he looked up the ground, the first face he saw was Screamer Johnson's. He was in the clear and leading straight at him.
Specky didn't hesitate. He speared a beautiful drop punt right onto the chest of his Booyong High teammate who marked easily, not giving his opponent any chance to spoil.
Loud cheering broke out from the section of the crowd that contained the Booyong High faithful and Specky's family.
As Screamer went back and kicked the first goal of the game, Brian Edwards jogged past Specky, giving him a high five.
‘You take Speckies and pass the ball. Great work, mate!’
‘Thanks.’ Specky smiled broadly.
The game went on to be a fantastic exhibition of junior football. The scores didn't matter at all, as all of the skills were on display. Grub Gordan roamed along the boundary lines, shouting out instructions at the top of his raspy voice. Most of it was criticism, but all of it was relevant and constructive.
Specky didn't slack off for one moment. He was having a good game without being spectacular. He had taken notice of what Grub had said before the match and focussed on working really hard on the defensive side of his game.
The only time he was questioned by Grub was when he took one of his big speckies. The fullback had kicked the ball in, and it was heading in Specky's direction. He had a perfect run at the ball and leapt on top of the two competing ruckman and pulled in a magnificent mark. The crowd went berserk as he fell to the ground.
Feeling pretty good about himself he jogged into the quarter-time huddle.
‘Nice mark, Magee,’ commented Grub. ‘But did you realise that you had two of your teammates at the front of the pack waiting for the crumbs?’
‘Um,’ stuttered Specky, caught off-guard by Grub's question.
‘They saw that you were behind and anticipated that you would have done the disciplined thing and punched the ball to the ground where they could have picked it up and run into an open goal. As it was, by the time you got yourself up off the ground, everyone was manned up, and all you could do was boot it back to a big pack at the top of the square.’
Specky wasn't sure what to say. Grub was dead right.
‘Don't get me wrong,’ Grub added. ‘It was a great mark, but if you're going to go for them, by hell, you better grab them. If you had dropped it, I would have dragged you.’
Specky maintained eye contact with his coach, confused whether he was actually criticising or praising him—or both. But before he had time to let it all sink in, Grub spoke again.
‘But you are the leading tackler on the ground so far, with six for the quarter, and that's better than any specky you might take.’
Specky let out a huge sigh of relief as Grub turned his attention to another player.
‘What do you think ya doin', Derek?’
It was Mr Johnson getting stuck into Screamer. Specky watched as Screamer swigged down some water.
‘You're gonna blow this if you don't start kicking straight,’ Screamer's dad growled.
Screamer didn't answer his father, but hung his head in shame.
‘Hey, mister!’ Grub called out to Mr Johnson.
Woah, this should be good, thought Specky.
‘Would you mind getting away from the players and letting them get some rest?’
‘What?’ Screamer's dad snapped back.
‘You heard me,’ said Grub, not backing down.
‘I can talk to my son any time I—’ started Mr Johnson.
‘Now, you listen to me, and listen good,’ interjected Grub. ‘Your boy has got some ability, but you're his biggest obstacle, pal. And the sooner you realise it the better. I've been coaching junior footballers for longer than you've been adding up and I've seen all types of parents. Don't you even think about putting a foot inside that change room over there, unless you're happy to sit quietly in the corner and not say a word. Let your young bloke play football without having to worry about you embarrassing him. You got it?’
Specky looked around to see all eyes were now on Grub and Mr Johnson. He also noticed Screamer looking the most embarrassed he had ever seen him. Again, Specky felt for him.
‘Yeah, all right,’ mumbled Mr Johnson.
Specky couldn't believe it. Screamer's dad, who was so much bigger than Grub, had backed off. Within minutes everyone got back to focussing on the game as if it had never happened.
Once the third quarter got started, the match continued on a similar pattern to the first half, with one exception—Brian Edwards. He totally took over the game—clocking up seventeen possessions and kicking three goals for the quarter. He was head and shoulders above every other player on the ground. His skills were outstanding and his courage took everyone's breath away.
Bob Stockdale approached Specky at the huddle before the last quarter and informed him that he wanted to see how he performed at full-forward. Specky could hardly contain his excitement. He had played a solid game and worked hard, but at this level, against players of equal ability, it was really tough playing in a position that he wasn't one hundred per cent used to. He was thrilled to get this opportunity to play in his favourite position and it meant he would have a chance to really shine.
As he jogged from the huddle, Brian Edwards called him over.
‘If I get the ball, start your lead toward the boundary,’ he said. ‘I'll act as if I'm going to kick it there, but I'll always bring it back into the centre corridor. You just need to double back on your opponent and I'll make sure the ball is there for you.’
Specky nodded. He was still a bit awe-struck, after Brian's amazing third quarter and was determined not to let him down.
For the first few minutes of the final quarter, the Blue team dominated early possession. But suddenly the football was booted out to the wing and directly to Brian Edwards.
Brian picked it up and raced forward, taking a bounce in the process. At just the right moment, Specky led hard to the boundary line. The fullback anticipated this and raced two metres ahead of him.
With perfect timing, Specky quickly doubled back and sprinted to the middle of the ground, just as Brian dropped the ball onto his boot. For a moment, Specky thought it had all gone terribly wrong. Was Brian really going to kick it to the boundary? But at the last second, Brian swung his boot across his body and drilled the ball toward Specky.
Everyone, except the two of them, had been fooled—leaving Specky alone, ten metres in the clear.
He watched the ball come toward him, and with no one in sight he thought, to be safe, he should take a nice easy chest mark. But the words of Grub Gordan came ringing back to him.
Specky stretched out his arms and took a perfect, solid mark, out in fro
nt, in his hands.
‘Four goals in a quarter! Good effort, Magee,’ beamed Grub, standing alongside Specky and Brian as they enjoyed a sports drink after the game.
‘Are you sure you two haven't played together before?’ he asked. ‘Maybe in primary school or something? The way you combined out there today was uncanny. It seemed like you could read each other's minds.’
Specky and Brian just shrugged and grinned at one another.
On the way home, slumped exhausted in the back seat of his dad's car, Specky hoped he had done enough. If he had been selected in the final State team, he was to expect a phone call within the next forty-eight hours.
All he had to do now was wait.
20. true passion
On the following Tuesday morning, Specky and the rest of the students of Booyong High streamed into the school hall for an assembly.
Mr and Mrs Magee made their way past the students toward the front row, and sat down with Coach Pate and some of the other teachers. A few moments later, Screamer's parents showed up and were also directed to the front row.
‘Hey, what are your folks doing here?’ asked Tiger Girl, pointing to the front of the hall.
‘Yeah, um, Coach Pate is going to make an announcement about whether Screamer and I made the State team. She's asked us both to say a few words about it.’
‘Seriously?’ Johnny piped up. ‘Does that mean you're in?’
‘C'mon, Speck!’ said Danny. ‘You can tell us.’
‘Why didn't ya say they were gonna announce it today?’ asked Robbo.
‘'Cause I wasn't really sure myself. They only rang last night. And I wasn't allowed to say whether we got in or not anyway. Coach Pate said it's a part of the school's new thing to push students to develop their public speaking skills or something. They're gonna try to do it at every assembly. That's why the olds were invited. No big deal.’ Specky shrugged modestly.
As Specky took his seat with his classmates, he glanced down his row at Screamer. Screamer acknowledged him with a nervous look. They certainly weren't friends now, but since they had talked on the steps of Mr Li's office there seemed to be an uneasy truce between them.
