by Felice Arena
‘Tiger Girl’s face suddenly dropped. ‘It’s Christina, isn’t it? Well, I guess you better answer it,’ she said.
‘Nah, it’s okay,’ said Specky, trying not to look too flustered. Man … this is awkward, he thought.
‘Hi, Simon! Oh, isn’t Skype fabulous! There you are on the other side of world,’ said Tiger Girl’s mother stepping into the picture.
‘Hi, Mrs Shepherd,’ said Specky.
‘Sorry, Simon,’ said Tiger Girl’s mum, now leaning in towards the camera, showing an extreme close-up of her nose. ‘Samantha has to go. She needs new school shoes – she has feet the size of flippers.’
‘MUM!’ gasped Tiger Girl, totally embarrassed. ‘Leave us alone!’
Specky grinned.
‘God! I can’t believe she said that,’ said Tiger Girl, blushing. ‘I better go. I’ll try to catch you again before your first Test.’
Only seconds after Specky hung up, Christina called again. This time Specky clicked the answer button.
‘Hi!’ she smiled, her face popping up on the screen. ‘Hey, I’ve got something exciting to tell you. This week my dad was in a marquee at the races and I said that if he bumped into any AFL players he had to do something for me.’
‘Like what?’ Specky asked.
‘I said he had to get their autographs and get them to write a message to you – to encourage you over there in Ireland. Anyway, he did and look …’
Christina held a piece of paper up to her camera. Specky couldn’t believe it! There were handwritten messages from three of the very best players in the competition:
Go Specky! Beat the Irish – Gary Ablett.
To Simon. All the best in Ireland! – Chris Judd.
Aussies Rule! Best wishes, Specky – Buddy Franklin
‘This isn’t a joke?’ asked Specky in disbelief.
‘No, way,’ said Christina pulling the paper back from the camera. ‘They’re legit. And they’re yours when you get back. Thought that would spur you on.’
‘Yeah,’ said Specky dumbfounded. ‘Thank you. That’s amazing. You’re amazing!’
‘Well, I do try,’ Christina smirked, pleased with herself. ‘I just wanted to show you what you mean to me …’
‘Hi!’ said Michael stepping in behind Specky. ‘I’m Michael. I heard something about autographs?’
Christina lifted the paper up to the camera again.
‘That’s really cool,’ said Michael. ‘Even I know who those guys are!’
When Specky ended his call with Christina, he turned to see Michael pulling a face at him. ‘So … you have two girlfriends?’ he said. ‘How does that happen?’
‘Um, it’s … it’s kind of a long story,’ Specky stuttered. ‘I really like them both. TG and I were just friends and Christina was in Sydney so it was never a problem before, but now … well, obviously I can’t go out with both. I’ve got to decide before I get home and I’m not sure what to do.’
‘That must be so, so tough, mate,’ Michael said sarcastically. ‘To have two gorgeous girls fight over you … seriously, that’s tough. How are you coping? Are you okay? I mean, if –’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Specky said, even more confused than ever about his feelings. ‘Okay, I get it! Now wasn’t I beating you in that last game?’
12. irish jig
The following day started very early for Specky. Colleen and Polly woke him up, giggling at the door of Michael’s bedroom.
‘Get lost!’ yelled Michael from under the covers.
Joseph who normally shared a room with Michael had slept in Patrick’s room so that Specky could have a comfy bed and sleep in, but by six-thirty in the morning bedroom doors were slamming and Joseph was chasing his twin sisters up and down the stairs, flicking rubber bands at them. By eight, everyone was arguing about who could use the bathroom next and Mr and Mrs O’Leary were yelling orders at everyone from the kitchen.
Woah! I thought Saturday mornings back home with Alice and Jack were crazy, thought Specky.
But despite all the noise and chaos, by ninethirty the whole family and Specky were fed and dressed and ready to head out into the chilly Dublin air. Patrick and Caitlin took off on their own, and everyone else piled into the O’Leary’s large four-wheel drive.
‘I thought we’d take you to see something very Irish,’ said Mrs O’Leary over her shoulder.
‘I can’t believe you’re forcing us to go and see Polly and Colleen dance,’ moaned Michael. ‘Simon doesn’t want to see a bunch of little girls dancing!’
‘Yeah, dancing sucks,’ added Joseph, clicking on his seat belt.
‘You suck!’ snapped the twins in unison.
‘That’s enough!’ said Mr O’Leary from behind the steering wheel.
‘It’s not just dancing,’ exclaimed Mrs O’Leary. ‘It’s traditional Irish dancing.’
‘We wear ghillies on our feet, not reels, and we dance light jigs, not slip jigs,’ said Colleen, as if Specky was supposed to know what that meant.
When the O’Learys arrived at the dance club, Michael and Specky moved to the very back of the hall. The place was teeming with little girls and a few boys all dressed in traditional dance costumes.
‘Sorry about this,’ muttered Michael. ‘I bet this is boring for you. And you don’t have to be nice, my mum’s not around.’
Specky laughed. ‘Nah, seriously, it’s okay. I remember Tadhg Kennelly did some Irish dancing when the Swans won the premiership a few years back – when he went up to get his medal.’
When the sound of fiddles, flutes and drums filled the air, the young dancers, including Polly and Colleen, moved to the centre of the hall. The twins were part of a three-line formation. Their feet moved at a rapid rate, while their upper bodies and arms were as stiff as can be.
‘Wow, they’re really good,’ said Specky, who was actually quite impressed. ‘Your sisters look like they’re nailing it.’
When the performance ended, everyone cheered and applauded.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ Michael whispered. ‘There’s an hour of this still to go.’
Specky followed Michael as they weaved through the crowd and snuck out through the foyer. Michael grabbed a soccer ball from the car. Specky was relieved to be kicking a ball around. He liked to get some practice in every day with a round ball.
‘Who’s your favourite football team?’ Michael said, indicating the ball to show that he meant soccer.
‘The Socceroos, of course,’ said Specky proudly, pushing the ball forward with the instep of his foot.
‘No, I mean English Premier League.’
‘Manchester United, I reckon,’ said Specky.
‘Me too!’
‘Actually … ’ Specky hesitated. Should he tell Michael about the opportunity to train for Man U? He was still a little uneasy about talking it up.
‘Are you serious? That’s huge!’ Michael gasped, when Specky told him. ‘You know how many guys would kill to be in your shoes? That’s unbelievable!’
‘Yeah, I s’pose it is,’ said Specky. Seeing Michael’s reaction suddenly made him acutely aware of what life would be like if he was offered a place at Manchester.
‘Boys!’ called Mr O’Leary, waving at Specky and Michael. ‘They’re done! Simon, we want you to meet someone.’
‘Simon, this is the girls’ dance teacher, Helen,’ said Mrs O’Leary, when they got back to the hall.
‘Hello, young man,’ said Helen, a tall slender woman with jet-black hair tied up in a bun. ‘Colleen and Polly said you would love to have a try at Irish dancing,’ she added, holding out a pair of black-heeled shoes. ‘So I’ll give you a quick lesson.’
‘Sorry?’ said Specky, catching sight of the twins giggling behind their mother’s back.
Everyone was grinning – even Michael.
‘Um, no, thanks,’ stuttered Specky. ‘I’m not much of a dancer.’
‘Oh, go on, Specky,’ said Michael, trying not to laugh. ‘We won’t tell anyone.’
‘All right, I’ll give it a go,’ Specky sighed, caving in to the pressure.
Thankfully, by the time Specky had swapped his shoes over, the hall was nearly empty.
‘Right, I’ll give you a very basic step to begin with,’ instructed Helen. ‘And then you repeat it …’
Specky self-consciously followed Helen’s steps.
‘That’s it! Hop, hop, back … perfect!’ she encouraged.
To Specky’s surprise he was getting it and he began to relax a little. He smiled at his host family, who were all grinning from ear to ear.
‘You’re practically Irish now, Simon,’ joked Mr O’Leary.
‘Right … now, let’s do what you’ve just learned to music,’ announced Helen. ‘Ready?’
Specky nodded.
‘Go!’
Specky stepped in time with the beat and before he knew it he was doing an authentic Irish jig. Everyone clapped along and, for a moment, Specky was really enjoying himself …
Then he turned around and saw a figure standing at the entrance of the hall – a figure with a shiny bald head, wearing a footy jumper and filming him on an iPhone.
‘Skull!’ he said, horrified.
‘Nice one, Magee!’ Skull waved. ‘The boys will love this. See ya back at the hotel, Lord of the Dance.’
13. hurling
‘So the game we’re going to see is a semi-final between Dublin and Tipperary. Obviously Dublin is our team,’ explained Mrs O’Leary, turning to look at Specky in the back seat.
They were on their way to Dublin’s premier ground, Croke Park, to see a game of hurling. Some of the Australian team would be there as well, with their host families.
Specky didn’t know what to expect from Ireland’s second favourite sport, but he didn’t have much of a chance to think about it. He couldn’t get the image of Skull laughing and filming him out of his head. I’m really gonna cop it from the boys, he thought. Then an awful idea occurred to him – Skull had better not put it up on YouTube or I’ll kill him, he thought, cringing.
Patrick and Caitlin were waiting for them at the main entrance of Croke Park. A few minutes after they arrived, Dicky and his host family, the Nolans, appeared.
Specky met Frankie Nolan’s older brother, Keenan – Caitlin had already rushed over to hold hands with him. But Frankie, sporting a black eye, stood sullenly on his own a few metres away. Specky leaned in to Dicky.
‘So did you get into trouble?’ he asked.
‘It was an accident,’ protested Dicky. ‘I was lifting my suitcase, and the goose walked right in to it.’
‘Seriously?’ laughed Specky. ‘You’re sure you didn’t do it on purpose? Get him back for the other day at the match?’
‘If I’d hit him on purpose, they’d have shipped me off home by now,’ said Dicky. ‘But I’ve got to say, Speck – couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy!’
They turned back to join their host families.
‘It’s massive, right?’ Michael said proudly, looking up at the impressive stadium. ‘She’s a thing of real beauty. It’s the headquarters of the Gaelic Athletic Association and has a capacity of over eighty-two thousand people!’
The big game against Ireland the following week would be played at Croke Park and it was Specky’s first look at the ground. It was pretty impressive, he thought.
‘Not bad, but not quite as good as the mighty MCG,’ bragged Dicky. ‘We can fit almost one hundred thousand people in there, and before it was renovated they could squeeze over onehundred and twenty thousand in.’
‘Woah,’ Keenan said, obviously impressed. ‘Did you hear that, Caitlin?’
Caitlin nodded as she stared lovingly at Keenan. Specky caught Michael rolling his eyes.
‘Wow … one hundred and twenty thousand to a football match! That I’d like to see,’ Keenan said. ‘Have ya ever been to the ground?’
‘Been to the ground?’ scoffed Dicky. ‘Speck and I played on it before the Grand Final. It was the best day of my life.’
‘Bollocks,’ grunted Frankie.
Dicky and Frankie exchanged dirty looks. Specky suspected that they had probably been staring each other down like this nonstop.
‘Bollocks nothing!’ Dicky snapped back. ‘Tell him, Speck.’
‘Um, it’s the truth, but I’m just as excited to be playing here,’ said Specky diplomatically.
‘Nothing compares to playing on the MCG – nothing,’ added Dicky, making Frankie snarl more than usual.
‘Um, shouldn’t we be getting inside to watch a bit of hurly action?’ asked Specky, noticing the parents making a move.
‘Its not hurly,’ laughed Michael. ‘It’s hurling!’
Specky and Dicky got in line behind their Irish families, clicked through the turnstiles, and made their way through the stadium.
Specky held his breath as they entered the ground. It was a magnificent arena. It was definitely smaller than the MCG, but Specky could feel a real buzz from the sixty thousand or more fans already in their seats. He could see why Michael spoke so proudly of it.
‘Since this is your first hurling game, I’ll tell you what’s happening,’ Michael said, sitting down next to Specky.
Frankie reluctantly sat down next to Dicky.
Fifteen players jogged onto the field and begin to warm up by smashing what looked like a cricket ball with oversized hockey sticks.
‘Woah. This looks awesome,’ Specky said, as the game got under way.
‘It’s as random as,’ laughed Dicky, as one of the players flicked the ball up off the ground with his stick, then belted it about eighty metres down the ground, only to have one of his teammates catch it without changing stride.
‘The sticks are called hurls and a ball into the back of the net is worth three points,’ explained Michael. ‘And any ball that goes between the posts above the net is worth one point.’
Someone’s gonna get killed, thought Specky as the players raced around the pitch, showing incredible skill and courage. The players were wearing helmets, but they were playing with no regard for their personal safety. They fired away at goals with precise accuracy, all the time being harassed and put off balance by their opponents.
Specky absolutely loved every second of the match. He wasn’t entirely sure of all the rules, but picked up enough to follow the game. He had no choice but to barrack for his host family’s team, Dublin. The way the O’Learys and the Nolans cheered on their teams reminded Specky of the passion you’d see from a Collingwood or Carlton fan back home.
‘Geez, did you see that catch, Speck?’ said Dicky excitedly. ‘Ricky Ponting would have been proud of that!’
The roar of the crowd was deafening, especially when a great catch was made or a long ball rocketed through the big sticks.
Specky looked down the row of seats to see Caitlin, Keenan, Patrick, Joseph and the twins screaming at the top of their lungs and the parents applauding wildly.
The match was turning out to be a real cracker. With just twenty seconds left on the clock, one of Tipperary’s star players dodged and weaved around three opponents and sent a low ball sizzling towards the corner of the net. The Dublin goalkeeper flung himself full length and knocked the ball off course. The siren sounded and Croke Park erupted. Dublin had won by just two points.
The O’Learys and the Nolans jumped from their seats and started hugging whoever they could reach. Keenan and Caitlin started kissing as if it were the end of the world. Joseph and the twins jumped up and down on their seats as if they were mini-trampolines. Michael and Patrick were high-fiving everyone around them.
Dicky was completely overwhelmed with the excitement. He was yelling and bear-hugging everyone, including Frankie who was so excited that he just grinned and broke out singing ‘Come on you boys in blue’ with the rest of the stadium. Dicky joined in and even though he didn’t know the words, he shouted alon
g at the top of his lungs. Those two aren’t so different, after all, thought Specky – at least not when it comes to sport.
‘I’m not exactly certain what just went on,’ Dicky yelled at Specky, ‘but that was one of the best things I have ever seen.’
‘Yeah, and it can even bring enemies together,’ added Specky.
‘Huh?’ said Dicky, looking back at Frankie who gave him another high-five. ‘Oh, yeah, well, he’s not all that bad. It’s all about moving on, Speck …’
Dicky went back to singing and celebrating with the others.
Specky grinned. There was no way he’d ever forget this day with his Irish family.
14. reunited
One by one, Specky’s team-mates arrived at the Doonigan Hotel. After the match, Specky had said good-bye to the O’Learys, who promised to give him a proper farewell at the end of the series.
The lobby was buzzing when Specky walked in. His mates were in a huddle by the fireplace, laughing. Skull was holding his iPhone. Here we go, thought Specky.
‘There he is!’ Skull called out once he spotted Specky. ‘Lord of the Dance!’
All the boys laughed – especially when Skull broke out in to a jig.
‘Is this the way to do it?’ he stirred. ‘Come on, Magee. We want to see a live performance. Come on! Do a jig for us.’
Specky shook his head and tried to shrug it off. But Skull continued to tease.
‘Jig! Jig! Jig!’ he started to chant.
Moments later the entire team had joined in.
‘Jig! Jig! Jig! Jig! Jig!’
Specky tried to laugh along with everyone else, but he was pretty embarrassed. Thankfully he was saved by Grub.
‘All right, you noisy buggers!’ bellowed their coach. ‘Cut it out. Remember where you are! Morgan – you’ll be jigging on the bench for the next game if you don’t keep your comments to yourself.’
Everyone immediately fell silent.
‘Rightio,’ said Grub. ‘I know you’ve all got plenty to catch up on but we’ve got the biggest game of our lives on in just under two days time. I want you all to take your bags up to your rooms and be back down here for dinner by six o’clock. Straight after that we’re going to have a team meeting and start to really focus on our opposition, so bring down your playbooks and a pen.’
