Specky Magee and the Best of Oz

by Felice Arena

  The rest of the team looked on with a mixture of sympathy, relief, and amusement.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t help you, Dicky,’ said Grub. ‘I actually asked that you be paired up with the Nolan boy.’

  Dicky looked stunned.

  ‘I want to know that you’re capable of separating what happens on the playing field from what happens off it. What happens on the ground, stays on the ground. Life is a series of tests, Atkins, and this is just another one.’ And with that Bobby and Grub left the rooms.

  ‘Suck it up, Dicky boy!’ stirred Skull, as he picked up his bag and made a move to follow them.

  Dicky bent down and picked a half-sucked orange piece off the floor and with laser-like accuracy hurled it at Skull. The orange piece stuck to the back of Skull’s bald head – and a chunk of juicy pulp dribbled down the back of his neck.

  ‘Suck that up, Morgan,’ growled Dicky.

  9. the o’learys

  ‘Right, boys,’ Bobby announced as they waited for their host families to pick them up. ‘In a few minutes the end-of-day bell will sound and let me tell you, it will be busier than Flinders Street Station. So don’t wander off. We’ll see you back at the hotel tomorrow afternoon. Be good, do us proud and, for goodness sake, no high-risk activity – no skateboarding, horseback riding, not even bike riding. I don’t want any broken bones before the big game.’

  Parents were making their way in to the school to pick up their kids, and cars were backed up all the way down the pebbled driveway to the front gates. The bell rang and hundreds of St Augustine’s students streamed out of the school. The Australian boys stood back to avoid the stampede. Within minutes, Specky’s team-mates were approached by their hosts and whisked away.

  ‘See ya, mate!’

  ‘Catch ya later!’

  Specky looked around for Michael O’Leary, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Already missing ya, Coach!’ joked Skull as he took off with his host family.

  ‘And you too, Morgan,’ grinned Grub, shaking his head.

  ‘You coming?’

  Specky turned to see Frankie Nolan step up to Dicky.

  ‘Yeah, I s’pose,’ grumbled Dicky.

  ‘I’ve bagged the front seat,’ snarled Frankie. ‘So you’re in the back with my sister, Molly, got it?’

  Dicky pulled a face at Specky and reluctantly followed Frankie to the car.

  ‘Just avoid any full-on fights,’ Specky whispered as Dicky brushed past. ‘Kicking his butt might be considered a high-risk activity.’

  ‘Hey, Specky!’ It was Michael O’Leary. ‘Found ya!’ he said. ‘So, you’re ready?’

  Specky nodded, suddenly feeling butterflies in his stomach.

  Michael waved as a white ute screeched to a halt in front of them. It had a sign painted on the door that read: O’Leary’s Plumbing – More than Just a Good Crack!

  As they threw their bags in the back of the ute. Specky was almost knocked over by a large group of St Augustine’s students rushing to the driver’s side. Some of them even asked the driver for his autograph.

  ‘Just ignore them,’ Michael said. ‘That’s my brother Patrick in the car. He plays for Dublin. He’s one of the best Gaelic footballers in the country. He doesn’t usually pick me up – but he was working nearby today.’

  ‘Wow!’ said Specky. Michael’s brother was the Irish equivalent of an AFL star. ‘It’s like I’m going to stay at Nick Riewoldt’s house. Hang on, did you say “work”? He works?’

  ‘Yeah, he’s in business with my dad,’ said Michael as if it were no big deal that a superstar player would have a job other than football. ‘He’s an apprentice plumber. Remember, we don’t get a pot of gold to play football like your AFL boys.’

  Specky hoped he hadn’t embarrassed Michael. He had to keep reminding himself that even the very highest level of Gaelic football in Ireland was still a strictly amateur code. The senior National Team, that played against the likes of Adam Goodes, Dustin Fletcher and Dane Swan, was made up of players who worked during the day as builders, bricklayers, accountants and factory workers. As long as Specky could remember, AFL players had been paid for what they did, but he knew that AFL had only really been a national professional league for the last few decades. He wondered if that would one day change in Ireland as well.

  ‘Right, welcome to the O’Leary house,’ said Patrick, as they climbed out of the ute opposite a row of red-brick terrace houses.

  ‘Look out!’ yelled Michael.

  Specky whipped his head around to see a soccer ball arcing towards him – it was only a metre away from smacking him in the face. In lightening-quick time, Specky caught it just before it hit him.

  ‘Woah! Pretty quick!’ Patrick said, grinning.

  ‘See, I told ya,’ said Michael. ‘Told ya he was one of the guns in his team.’

  Specky just stood there, holding the ball, wondering what on earth was going on.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ said a boy of about nine or ten, running up to snatch the ball out of Specky’s hand. ‘That was my neighbour, Riley. He’s a crap kick! So … are you the Aussie? Do you know Tadhg Kennelly?’

  ‘I’ve told ya before, Joe,’ said Patrick, ‘just because he’s from Australia doesn’t mean he knows Tadhg. Australia is a big place. Simon, this is our little brother, Joseph.’

  Specky wished that he had met the Sydney Swan’s Irish legend. He would have loved to have seen Joe’s face.

  ‘JOSEPH COLM FIONN O’LEARY! THIS IS THE LAST TIME – GET INSIDE AND HELP ME SET THE TABLE! NOW!’

  Specky didn’t have to be a local to know this had to be Joe’s mum yelling. He remembered how his own mum would shout out for him to stop kicking and marking a footy in his backyard and come inside for dinner.

  ‘Ma! This is Simon!’ Michael shouted back.

  Mrs O’Leary waved Specky over to the door. ‘Hello, Simon. Aren’t you a handsome young man? It’s so nice to meet you. You must be hungry. JOSEPH! I’M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN! PUT THAT BALL DOWN AND COME IN NOW! Sorry about that, let’s get you inside and settled in.’

  When Specky stepped in to the hallway he almost tripped on a Barbie doll in a pink toy car.

  ‘Woah, that was close,’ he said to Michael. ‘My entire Irish series almost gone because of a Barbie doll – don’t know if I could’ve lived that one down with the boys.’

  ‘COLLEEN!’ blasted Mrs O’Leary, her booming voice echoing through the double-story terrace. ‘COME PICK UP YOUR TOYS!’

  As Patrick and Michael took Specky’s bags upstairs, two young girls appeared at the end of the hallway. They looked identical – straight red hair and faces covered with freckles.

  ‘That’s not my Barbie,’ said one of them. ‘It’s Polly’s.’

  ‘I don’t care who it belongs to,’ snapped Mrs O’Leary. ‘Simon, these are the twins, Colleen and Polly. Now you two come say hello to Simon – and apologise to him.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ said Specky. ‘My baby brother Jack has toys all over our house too.’

  ‘We’re not babies,’ snapped Polly. ‘We’re six!’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Specky.

  Mrs O’Leary pulled a face as if to say ‘just ignore them’.

  ‘Okay, Simon,’ she said, leading Specky to the living room. ‘We want you to feel at home here. So grab a drink from the fridge whenever you want, switch on the TV … whatever.’

  ‘Just don’t go into my room,’ came a bossy voice from the door.

  Specky turned to see a teenage girl about the same age as his older sister, Alice.

  ‘I’m Caitlin,’ she said. ‘And my room is off limits … got it?’

  Specky remembered his own sister greeting Brian with exactly the same bossy command when he came to stay with the Magees. But that was where the resemblance ended – Caitlin looked like a supermodel and it was hard not to stare. He was at a loss for words.

  ‘Hey, Aussie boy, I’m talking to you,’ she said. ‘Stop checking me out and pay attenti
on …’

  ‘No … no … I … I wasn’t …’ Specky stuttered. ‘I mean …’ His felt his face turning red. He wished the floor would swallow him up.

  The twins giggled in unison.

  Specky gulped. It was going to be a long twenty-four hours.

  10. raw nerve

  ‘Ah … this must be the Australian,’ Mr O’Leary said as they sat down to dinner. He smiled broadly as he shook Specky’s hand. ‘I hope Patrick doesn’t give you too many tips before the big games – we still want Ireland to win, you know.’

  ‘Do we have to talk about the fancy football hero over there?’ snapped Caitlin. ‘It’s so boring and his head’s too big already.’

  ‘Lay off it, Caitlin,’ snapped Patrick, but Caitlin was already distracted by a text message on her mobile.

  ‘What did I say about mobile phones at the dinner table?’ said Mrs O’Leary.

  ‘It’s her boyfriend, Keenan,’ Michael whispered to Specky. ‘He’s Frankie Nolan’s brother.’

  Specky was relieved that the conversation had veered away from him. It gave him a chance to eat his meal. It was funny, he thought. He was halfway across the world, but dinner at the O’Leary’s was just like any Friday night in any home in Australia. The way that Patrick and Caitlin argued with each other even reminded him of himself and Alice. And for a moment he kind of missed her.

  ‘So, Simon, did Michael tell you that I’m going to Australia?’ Patrick said, when they had finished dinner and the girls and Joseph were upstairs getting ready for bed. ‘I’ve been selected to go and train with Collingwood during the summer – to see if I have what it takes to play AFL.’

  ‘Wow, that’s unreal,’ Specky said. He was about to ask Patrick lots of questions, but then he hesitated – he noticed that Mr O’Leary didn’t look at all happy and Michael sighed and shook his head.

  ‘Well, I’m glad you think it’s unreal, Simon,’ Patrick said bitterly. ‘Maybe you can convince my old man here it’s a good idea.’

  Specky froze. It didn’t take a genius to work out that they had stumbled onto a touchy subject.

  ‘Oh, if you two are going to start up again, can I be excused?’ groaned Caitlin, pushing back from the table.

  ‘I’ll make tea,’ said Mrs O’Leary.

  ‘Dad doesn’t understand why I want to play AFL,’ said Patrick, ignoring them both, ‘even though it’s always been a dream of mine and –’

  ‘Gaelic football was always your dream,’ interrupted Mr O’Leary. ‘And you still have a lot to achieve. Wouldn’t you love to win a senior All-Ireland championship?’

  ‘Of course I would, Pa,’ retorted Patrick. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Simon, I love my football more than anything, but what if I love Aussie Rules just as much? What if I could be the next Tadhg Kennelly or Jim Stynes? Lots of young Irish players are doing it – what about Setanta O’hAilpin? If you were given a chance to try out for something that would offer you a lifestyle you could never dream of having back in your hometown, wouldn’t you just go for it?’

  Specky remembered Danny’s reaction whenever he talked about the invitation to try out for Manchester United. He knew better than anyone how tempting it was to want more money and more fame than you could ever get at home. But he also knew how Patrick’s dad must be feeling – what if all the best AFL players were convinced to leave Australia and play a different sport? What would happen to Aussie Rules then?

  It’s probably best not to share my news about Manchester, he thought. I don’t want to complicate the conversation even more.

  ‘You would, Simon, wouldn’t you?’ pressed Patrick, snapping Specky back to attention. ‘I know Michael understands.’

  ‘Um, I s’pose I would,’ Specky said.

  Michael looked apologetically at Specky – he had obviously heard this argument before. Specky wriggled in his seat. The room was thick with tension.

  ‘I’m not saying you can’t pursue something better for yourself, son,’ said Mr O’Leary, softening his voice. ‘The good Lord knows how hard I’ve worked to build up one of the biggest plumbing companies in Dublin. I’m all for having dreams. But the grass isn’t always greener, Patrick.’

  ‘Well, I have to find that out for myself,’ said Patrick.

  ‘You’ve got to understand, Simon,’ said Mr O’Leary. ‘We play sport for the sake of the game and not for the trappings that come with it. I don’t know why the younger generation in this country can’t be proud of our game and our culture. Sport might just be a business in other parts of the world, but here it defines who we are. If AFL players didn’t get paid, would you still play the game for the love of it?’

  Simon nodded. ‘Yeah, I definitely would!’

  ‘That’s easy to say when you’re fourteen or fifteen,’ said Patrick. ‘But what about in your twenties, knowing that large crowds will pay entrance fees to see you, but you won’t see a penny of it?’

  ‘Um … I don’t know,’ said Specky. ‘I’m really not sure …’ He thought about Jim Stynes – one of his AFL heroes. He’d started out as a great Gaelic Football player in Dublin, and when he moved to Australia to play AFL he’d became one of the absolute legends of the game. He’d even represented Australia in International Rules, but he’d had to play against his own brother to do it …

  ‘I wouldn’t hang around,’ said Michael, siding with Patrick. ‘Not if there was a chance I could get paid for it.’

  ‘Oh, sweet Mary and Joseph …’ Mr O’Leary said, sighing dramatically. ‘No disrespect, Simon, but the AFL have got some nerve coming over here and poaching our boys and offering them the world. Some of those agents are nothing but greedy opportunists out to get their paws on the best and then exploit them to fill their own pockets – like that Brad Dobson fellow who came over here and set up an AFL trial camp in Cork as if he were trawling for salmon.’

  Specky flinched at hearing the name of the same talent agent who had offered to manage him only a couple of months earlier.

  ‘You know him?’ Mr O’Leary asked, noticing Specky’s reaction.

  ‘Yeah, he offered to be my manager.’

  ‘But you’re only fourteen!’ said Mr O’Leary in disbelief. ‘You see! That’s completely irresponsible.’

  Specky nodded and explained how he and his family had turned Brad Dobson down.

  ‘So what, Pa?’ said Patrick. ‘We said no to Dobson as well. The Collingwood scouts aren’t at all like him. Besides, there are more Irish boys going off to play football in the English Premier League than there are going to play AFL. How’s that any different?’

  But Mr O’Leary never got a chance to respond, he was interrupted by the sound of Caitlin racing down the stairs and into the room.

  ‘Oh my God, Simon,’ she gasped, holding out her phone. ‘Keenan just texted me – your teammate Dicky has given Frankie a black eye!’

  11. australia calling

  When the fuss had died down, Specky went upstairs with Michael to play Xbox.

  ‘So, d’you think your mate Dicky will get in trouble with your coach?’ asked Michael, his eyes firmly on the cars on the screen. ‘Caitlin said it was an accident, but you don’t really believe that, do you?’

  Specky swerved his car around a hairpin bend and pressed his thumb on the accelerator. It bought him some time before he answered. He wanted to say yes, but it did seem like too much of a coincidence. For Dicky’s sake, Specky hoped it really was an accident otherwise he would be kicked off the team and sent home.

  ‘Simon …’ Mrs O’Leary popped her head into the bedroom. ‘It’s your mother on the phone.’

  Specky took the phone and chatted to his mum and then his dad. It was Friday morning in Melbourne. He could hear Alice shouting comments from the background and then the sound of Jack crying. ‘I’d better go, Si, and I know it’s really quite late over there, but I’ll put your grandfather on …’ said his dad. ‘He’s around here for breaky.’

  ‘Hello, champ! How’s it going?’

  ‘Hey
, Grandpa!’ Specky smiled, happy to hear his voice.

  Specky told his grandfather about the practice match against St Augustine’s College and about his host family.

  ‘Did they feed you potatoes?’ Grandpa asked. ‘The Irish love their potatoes – can’t get enough of them. And cabbage – they absolutely love cabbage.’

  ‘Nah, Grandpa,’ Specky laughed. ‘No potatoes. Or cabbage. But we did have a mean fettuccine carbonara.’

  ‘Pasta? In Ireland? Strewth! What’s the world coming to? Hang on, kid, your sister wants to know if we can spike you next time …’

  ‘Spike? I think you mean Skype, Grandpa.’ Specky grinned.

  ‘You can Skype from our laptop,’ said Michael.

  ‘Um, Grandpa, hang on …’ said Specky. ‘I think we can. And I’m pretty sure we can Skype from the hotel. Tell Alice we’ll talk tomorrow, okay? Yeah, you too … bye …’

  After Grandpa Ken hung up, Specky logged onto Skype, and Michael settled in to play FIFA Soccer. Specky could see that both Christina and Tiger Girl were at their computers. Who do I call first? he wondered. But almost immediately a call came through. It was Tiger Girl.

  ‘Hey! I’m so glad you’re online,’ she said, her smiling face appearing in the window. ‘How’s it all going?’

  She immediately wanted to hear all the details about the practice game. Specky was chuffed. He really liked that Tiger Girl loved footy as much as he did. And that she was always encouraging him.

  ‘I found out that the Gaelic football website is going to post video highlights of your Test Matches. Cool, huh? I’ll be able to see you in action.’

  Specky and Tiger Girl happily chatted until another call came buzzing in. It was Christina.

  ‘Oh, who is it, Speck?’ asked Tiger Girl. ‘Is it Robbo? He’s been dying to talk to you.’

  ‘Um, it’s, um …’ Specky stuttered. ‘It’s …’