Specky Magee and the Battle of the Young Guns

by Felice Arena

  Puffin Books

  By the bestselling authors of

  Specky Magee

  Specky Magee and the Great Footy Contest

  Specky Magee and the Season of Champions

  Specky Magee and the Boots of Glory Specky Magee and the Legend in the Making

  and

  Specky Magee and the Spirit of the Game

  www.speckymagee.com

  Felice Arena &

  Garry Lyon

  Puffin Books

  1. a closer look

  The plane touched down and taxied towards the terminal.

  ‘Welcome to Adelaide …’ The captain’s voice echoed through the speakers. ‘The temperature this afternoon is a very pleasant twenty degrees Celsius. The local time is one-forty p.m. Once again, we welcome the international travellers who joined us in Victoria and apologise for the delay we experienced at Melbourne Airport. Thank you for flying with us and we hope you enjoy your stay in South Australia.’

  As the plane jolted to a halt, there was a wave of frenzied motion: passengers unbuckled their belts, jumped to their feet, and reached for their bags in the overhead lockers. At the front of the plane, in business class, a bald man in a suit moved to the door to make sure he was first to exit.

  Almost jogging, he hurried to the baggage carousels. While he was impatiently waiting for his luggage to appear, his mobile rang.

  ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Yes! Just got here … I don’t know, but I hope so. It’ll be good to finally get a look at him. No, I’m gonna check into my hotel first – drop off my bag. Which, by the way, has just appeared on the belt … Okay, yep, talk to you later.’

  He grabbed his bags, jogged to the hire-car counter and picked up his keys. Then he drove out of the airport parking lot as if he were in the final lap of a grand prix.

  Bursting into his hotel room, the man tossed his bag on the bed and switched on the TV. His mobile rang again.

  ‘Hello. Yes, I’m here. Look, I can’t talk now – they’re telecasting the game … When I checked in, I asked for directions to the ground and the porter said it’s being aired live on Cable.’ As he spoke, the bald man frantically clicked through the channels. ‘Here it is! Found it! I don’t believe it – I think that’s him on screen right now! I’m telling you, this kid is the real deal – I know there are no guarantees in this caper, but this lad might be the best prospect I’ve ever laid eyes on. Yeah … Trust me on this one. Talk later.’

  The man dropped his phone and turned up the volume to hear the commentary …

  2. courage

  … and here he is again – young Simon Magee for the Vics – about to have his fifth shot at goal. He hasn’t quite had his kicking boot on today, managing two goals and two behinds, but the boy has lived up to all the hype surrounding him over the past week.

  I agree, Jim. This kid has been one of the stars of this Under-Fifteen national football carnival. He didn’t have this problem two days ago when the Big V smashed the boys from Tasmania. His six-goal display was the standout performance of the week, and right now he’s the equal leading goal-kicker of the entire carnival. And we’re in for a bit of a shoot-out because right now, at the other end of the ground, the big lad from Western Australia, Mitch Mahoney, has four goals for the game and has drawn level with young Magee.

  You’re dead right, Brian. Magee starts his run-up … He’s only thirty metres out, on a slight angle, and if he kicks this one he’ll take the outright lead again. He makes good contact – it looks good … but no! It just drifts off line, and he has to settle for a behind. And there goes the siren, with the Vics leading Western Australia by just seven points, with the winner to take on South Australia in the National Final in three weeks’ time. And remember that the Final is a curtain-raiser to the biggest game of the AFL season, and one of the biggest sporting events in the country, the AFL Grand Final. What an opportunity for these young boys!

  Specky kicked at the ground, disappointed that he had missed such an easy shot.

  ‘Don’t worry, Speck. Get the next one.’

  His good mate, Brian Edwards, was the first of his team-mates to offer his encouragement.

  As the two jogged towards the three-quarter-time huddle, the rest of the team joined Brian in supporting Specky, and urged each other on.

  ‘Come on, boys. One last quarter and we’ll be playing on the G on Grand Final Day.’

  ‘Thirty more minutes and we get the chance to be National Champions.’

  ‘Suck it in, fellas! Biggest quarter of our lives coming up.’

  Playing for Victoria was everything Specky had hoped it would be. The most talented Under-Fifteen footballers from around the State had come together to play under the legendary junior football coach Jay ‘Grub’ Gordan. Specky couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be playing at this level. He was used to being the best in his team, but here he was testing himself against elite young footballers from around the country and playing alongside the best of the best.

  ‘Righto, settle down. Get a drink and listen up,’ ordered Grub.

  The chatter stopped immediately. All eyes focused on the short, grey-haired coach with the gravelly voice who had, in the space of a couple of weeks, united this group into a tight-knit team, prepared to do whatever he asked of them.

  ‘Geez, Simon,’ he said, frowning. ‘How did you miss that? Don’t lean so far back when you make contact.’

  Specky and his team-mates had learnt early on that they needed a thick skin to play under Grub. He was direct – pulled no punches – but was always constructive with his criticism.

  ‘We’re not gonna let these sandgropers take away our spot on the MCG!’ another voice boomed. ‘Come on, dig deep! Find something! Don’t let the Big V down!’

  Specky smiled. It was Dicky Atkins, a tough kid from Gippsland. He was a mountain of a boy, who already had hair on his massive chest. Sometimes Specky wondered if Dicky wasn’t really an eighteen-year-old posing as a fourteen-year-old. No one took playing for Victoria more seriously than Dicky. He was the spirit of their side, constantly encouraging and supporting his mates. He never shut up on the ground, barking instructions and always giving 110%. He was, by far, the most popular member of the side, and his attitude set the tone for the rest of the team – especially when he was roaring encouragement at the top of his lungs.

  ‘Okay, this is what we’re going to do,’ announced Grub. ‘We’re kicking into a slight breeze and we know that they’ll kick the ball to Mahoney every time they go inside fifty. Dicky has done a fantastic job keeping Mahoney to just four goals, but we’re going to give him a little support.’

  Grub turned to Specky.

  ‘Magee, I want you to play at half-back. We watched tapes through the week of Luke Hodge and the role he plays at Hawthorn. Well, I want you to do a similar job here.’

  Specky was very familiar with the role that Luke Hodge had played in Hawthorn’s Premiership victory. Luke’s coach, Alastair Clarkson, had moved him from the centre of the ground, where he was one of the best mid-fielders in the competition, to the half-back line. It made it much more difficult for opposition clubs to tag him. In the process, Hodge was able to patrol the back line, reading the play expertly and, at the right time, leave his opponent and ‘zone off’ to help out his fellow defenders. Because he was such a beautiful kick, he was able to set up many of Hawthorn’s attacking moves from the back line. Opposition clubs really struggled to stop his influence, so much so that he went on to win the Norm Smith Medal as the best player on the ground. Specky knew that half-back had become one of the most important positions on the ground and he was excit
ed about the challenge Grub had given him.

  ‘You’ve still got responsibility for your opponent,’ added Grub. ‘But wherever possible I want you to get back in front of Mahoney and help out as much as you can.’

  Grub finished his address and the team broke up and headed to their positions for the final quarter knowing that their shot at the National title at the MCG was at stake.

  There’s no doubt about Grub Gordan, Jimbo. He’s swung another surprise. It looks as if young Magee is lining up at half-back. Why would he do that when Magee leads the goal kicking for the carnival and the Vics are only seven points up?

  The commentators, Brian Paylor and Jim Bradshaw, were treating this game as seriously as any AFL match.

  He’s always done it, Brian. He doesn’t want these boys becoming one-position players early in their careers. He likes to play them at both ends.

  Specky found himself matched up on a much smaller half-forward flanker, Dylan Haddon.

  The Western Australian runner came sprinting out to the nippy little player.

  ‘Coach wants you to play out wide, drag Magee out of the play,’ he said, in earshot of Specky. ‘He doesn’t care if you don’t get a kick, just make sure he doesn’t.’

  Specky’s opponent nodded, and immediately ran towards the boundary line, but Specky – remembering what Grub had said about the role of the ‘sweeper’ – only followed him halfway to the boundary. He turned and saw Dicky standing shoulder to shoulder with Mitch Mahoney – the great Western Australian hope – bumping into him and chattering into his ear. They were the only two players inside the Vics’ defensive fifty.

  Right, thought Specky. I’ve got to stay close enough to Dicky that I can get back and cut off any passes to Mahoney, but I’ve also got to keep a close eye on Haddon.

  The Vics have dominated the first seven minutes of the quarter, Brian. I don’t think the sandgropers have gone inside fifty yet.

  Specky was enjoying his view of the game from the half-back flank. He hadn’t been called upon to do anything yet and that was fine by him. The mid-field were in control, led by Brian and the Vics’ rover, ‘Bear’ Gleeson, but they hadn’t made it pay on the scoreboard. They still led by only nine points.

  The ball’s kicked in from full-back and is marked strongly by Western Australia – beautiful quick hands! And they’re out in space, bouncing down the wing. This is the big chance for the boys from the West. Where is Mahoney? They’ll be looking for him!

  Specky quickly looked to Haddon, his blond opponent. He was standing close to the boundary, not really interested in calling for the ball. Specky made a split-second decision. He left him and headed towards Dicky and Mitch Mahoney.

  Mahoney goes one way and then the other, and now he makes his lead. Oh no! Atkins has stumbled. Mahoney’s in the clear and that’s where the ball is going.

  Specky saw Dicky trip and ran harder, back with the flight of the ball. He could see that Dicky was not going to get there to make the spoil – it was all down to him now.

  It’s a beautiful pass and Mahoney’s in the clear. Look out! Who’s that?

  At full stretch, with eyes on the ball, Specky dived – all the time aware that big Mitch Mahoney was hurtling towards him. His fist made contact with the ball centimetres before Mahoney arrived at full steam with his arms outstretched. Specky heard the crowd go crazy a second before they collided with a sickening thud.

  … and Magee gets there, punching the ball clear towards the boundary line! What an effort, Jimmy! That takes some pretty exceptional courage, right there.

  It does, Brian, from both players. Let’s not forget that young Mahoney never put in a short step and didn’t take his eyes off the ball either.

  Good point, Jim. That’s what you get in this National Carnival – the best kids playing the very best footy. I love it.

  3. dicky

  ‘That was a great result, boys,’ beamed Grub. ‘Really well done! Now we look forward to three weeks’ time when we take on the South Australians at the MCG. By the time the last quarter comes around there could be close to one hundred thousand people there. It will be an experience you’ll never forget.’

  Specky smiled despite his aching body and the bruises that were starting to turn blue where he had smashed into Mitch Mahoney at full speed. It had been worth it to get into the final.

  Grub finished his post-game talk, and Bobby Stockdale – Grub’s long-time assistant coach – gave the team their itinerary for the next three weeks. They would fly home that afternoon and would train twice a week in the lead-up to the final. They were all encouraged to look after themselves – ice up any sore spots, rehydrate with plenty of Gatorade and water, and do a good cool-down.

  Just as the boys were about to head to the showers, Dicky Atkins stood up on one of the rundown benches. Specky was used to Dicky’s big after-the-game speeches, which were usually just a string of lame jokes, many at his own expense, and were often delivered wearing only a jockstrap. Everyone started laughing and yelling at him, and he was bombarded with rolled-up bits of discarded ankle tape and well-sucked orange peels. Usually, Dicky loved the attention, but this time he wasn’t laughing along.

  ‘Nah, come on! Shut up, everyone!’ he bellowed. ‘I want to be serious for a minute.’

  ‘Well, put some pants on – that might help!’ yelled Lenny Morgan, the team’s cheeky number-one rover from the Melbourne suburb of Broadmeadows. He shaved his head before every game as part of his pre-game ritual, so everyone called him ‘Skull’.

  Specky and the others burst into laughter and even Dicky smiled.

  ‘Look, I just wanted to say how much today meant to me,’ he said. ‘We didn’t know each other six weeks ago, and now I look at each and every one of ya, and I think – what a great bunch of mates! It feels like I’ve got a truckload of new brothers.’

  Dicky’s comment made Specky think of his best friends at school, Danny Castellino and Josh ‘Robbo’ Roberts. He wished they were there to see him play, but like Dicky, he now thought of some of his State team-mates as his closest friends as well. Specky looked around the room. The jokes had stopped. Even though Dicky looked like a hairy jungle beast at a circus, he had everyone’s attention.

  ‘I’ve realised that you’ll only ever be as good as the dude sitting next to ya, and I don’t mind saying that today, out there, I was struggling a bit.’ Dicky’s voice was a bit croaky and he had to clear his throat before he could go on. ‘That kid I was playing on was bloody good, and there were a couple of times where he had me.’

  The room was now deadly quiet.

  ‘The game was in the balance and if they had scored another goal we might’ve been in trouble. When Mahoney led for that ball and I tripped over, I thought we were stuffed. And then one of my brothers made a decision.’

  Specky squirmed in his seat as Dicky turned to him. All eyes were now on him.

  ‘You put everything on the line for me, Speck,’ exclaimed Dicky. ‘For me and the rest of the guys. That Mahoney bloke could have taken you out. It was one of the gutsiest things I’ve ever seen.’

  Specky couldn’t believe it. He knew Dicky loved his footy, but he never dreamed he could get so emotional about it.

  ‘I won’t forget that, Speck. I won’t let you down at the MCG, mate. I’m gonna do whatever it takes.’

  With that, Dicky jumped off the bench and sat down. No one knew what to say.

  ‘Someone get a tissue for the big fella! And don’t forget the violins!’ roared Skull, as he made his way over to Dicky and slapped him on the back. Dicky laughed as the rest of the room broke out in whoops and whistles. The ice had been broken.

  As the rest of the boys finished showering and prepared to board the bus, Specky made his way over to Dicky. Seeing how emotional Dicky had been made him realise how important this competition was to all of them. It was life or death. Getting into the final had been the biggest thing in their lives, and Specky hadn’t dared to think that they might actually get the
re. He was starting to understand what Grub meant when he said that the final would be a ‘sliding doors’ moment. This single match could determine what direction their lives went in – whether or not they had a future in football. If they were serious about making it to an elite level, it would be in this match where they would be expected to put their absolute best on show.

  ‘Thanks, mate, that means a lot to me. I don’t know how you can get up and speak like that, but it’s pretty cool.’

  ‘No worries, Speck. I meant every word,’ replied Dicky, springing to his feet and giving Specky a big sweaty hug. ‘It’s just me, mate. I’ve always been like that. Me mum says I’ve always been kind of emotional. She’s always told me never to be scared to show how ya feel, so that’s what I do. And I don’t give a crud what others think.’

  The boys arrived at Adelaide airport an hour later and made their way to the departure gate. They were all dressed in navy team blazers with the Big V proudly displayed on their breast pockets. Total strangers at the airport asked Specky and his team-mates about the result of the game and offered their congratulations. For a moment, Specky could imagine what it was like for his AFL heroes as they wandered through airports around the country.

  The Victorian players had been lectured on the need to represent their State in the most positive light when they were out in public. They were easily identifiable as Victorian players, because of their uniform, and they were constantly reminded of the need to conduct themselves in a manner that reflected positively on their State and their families. Specky was aware that at AFL level, major sponsors – who poured in big money to be associated with various clubs – had been known to withdraw their funding due to unacceptable behavior from members of the team they were aligned with.