Specky Magee and the Battle of the Young Guns

by Felice Arena

  ‘Just one thing before you go, Gob. If it’s your left shoulder that’s dislocated, why have you got your right arm bandaged up?’

  Gobba stopped moaning and looked down at his right arm. That was it – the others couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst into fits of laughter.

  ‘You idiot, Gobba!’ roared Danny.

  ‘Talk about overacting, Gob,’ laughed Robbo, as he struggled to catch his breath.

  ‘If you’re gonna be a great commentator, Gobba man, you’d better learn your right from your left,’ said Johnny.

  ‘I’m sorry, Speck,’ said Gobba, as the boys composed themselves. ‘It was Danny’s idea. He said Mr Rutherford would have to play you if one of us was out of the side. And since I wouldn’t be too fussed – ’cause then I could commentate the whole game – I said I’d do it.’

  Specky turned to face his mates, touched that they had come up with this crazy plan to allow him to play. He knew he had to be completely honest with them – even if it meant upsetting them.

  ‘Look, guys, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. But I need to be straight with you. Even if I had passed the Maths test, even if I was allowed to play today, I don’t think I could’ve. I’m still not one hundred percent and I couldn’t risk anything happening before the State Grand Final next week. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘What are you apologising to us for?’ Robbo asked. ‘Don’t you think we get that, mate. You should have told us! We know you’re the one who’s got a chance at the AFL one day, not us. There’s no way we’re gonna get in your way. We want you to do this … not just for you, for us.’

  The others all nodded in agreement. Specky was gobsmacked and moved all at the same time.

  ‘Then I won’t let you down,’ he said with a huge smile. ‘Now, you’ve got a Grand Final to win. So get moving!’

  17. booyong’s big day

  During the build-up to the opening bounce, Specky stood to one side of the change rooms feeling detached from the action. Parents and friends had done a great job of decorating the rooms in the Booyong colours: the walls were plastered with green, blue and white streamers and balloons.

  Having finished writing his pre-game notes on the blackboard, Mr Rutherford approached Specky.

  ‘I know this must be hard for you, Simon, but I really appreciate your being here. It means a lot to the rest of the team, too.’

  Specky muttered a ‘no problem’, even though he felt pretty useless.

  ‘Anyway,’ continued Mr Rutherford, ‘with Coach Pate gone I could really use some assistance on the bench with the team board, if you feel up to it. It’s your call, but it would really help us out.’

  Specky had a decision to make. He could sulk and watch the game from the other side of the ground, or he could put his disappointment aside and do what he could for his mates. It was a no-brainer, really.

  ‘Yeah, sure, I’d be happy to,’ he said.

  ‘Great,’ replied Mr Rutherford. ‘Let’s see if we can’t fire these boys up and win us a flag.’

  Robbo lead the Booyong Lions out onto the field to the sound of wild cheers and car horns blaring. TG, the Gladiator and the Bombay Bullet’s sister, Gita, had spent the previous night making a big banner for the boys to run through, and they held it up as the team charged out of the rooms.

  Once the girls had rolled up the banner, Specky caught sight of TG waving at him. He and Mr Rutherford were on their way to the coach’s box, and TG had just joined the crowd of Booyong High supporters on the sidelines.

  Booyong High’s opponents in the big match were the Tremont High Tigers. The record between the two teams for the season stood at a win apiece. The Tigers were a small side, but extremely quick, and boasted two of the best rovers in the competition, Ethan Miller and Vince DePaglia. If the Lions were going to win, they had to stop these two players.

  Gobba took up his customary position on the bench – minus his bandages – and quickly found his voice.

  Well, folks, if you can imagine the Brisbane Lions without Jonathan Brown or Carlton without Brendan Fevola, then you can imagine the dilemma facing Booyong today. Simon Magee can only look on as his beloved Lions set about the task of winning this year’s Grand Final. Only time will tell if they can overcome this enormous loss …

  ‘That’s enough, Higgins!’ barked Mr Rutherford, obviously unaccustomed to having one of his players provide commentary from the bench. ‘We don’t need you reinforcing negatives before the game. Just concentrate and be ready to go when I want you.’

  Gobba was shattered – Coach Pate had always allowed him to commentate from the bench.

  Specky wandered over to Gobba as Robbo joined Ethan Miller – who was the opposition’s captain – in the middle of the ground, to toss the coin.

  ‘Don’t worry, Gob,’ said Specky, ‘just call the game quietly. Mr Rutherford’s probably as nervous as the rest of us and isn’t aware that he has the next Dennis Cometti in his team.’

  Gobba just shrugged his shoulders, staring daggers at the new coach.

  Robbo won the toss and elected to kick with the wind. Sadly, it ended up being the only thing Booyong won for the first half. They looked flat and lethargic the whole time and struggled to find a winner in any position on the ground.

  As always, Robbo tried his heart out in the ruck, but despite winning nearly every hit-out, the ball was always sharked by one of Tremont High’s nippy rovers. Ethan Miller and Vince DePaglia were running riot, picking up possessions at will, and between them they kicked six first-half goals.

  The ball barely entered Booyong’s forward line, and when it did, Kyle, who had been put in as full-forward, was almost always caught behind.

  At the end of the first quarter, Mr Rutherford moved Danny onto Vince DePaglia and Johnny onto Ethan Miller to see if they could slow down the two stars from Tremont. Unfortunately, that tactic failed dismally. Johnny and Danny were so used to winning their own football that they had no idea how to lock down an opponent. Not only did the two opposition rovers continue to dominate, but the Booyong pair wandered around the ground looking totally lost, and they began to lose confidence.

  Paul Solomon was fighting a losing battle in the back half and his frustration was beginning to get the better of him. Specky noticed it first and brought it up with Mr Rutherford, just minutes before the half-time siren.

  ‘I think Sols needs a break,’ he said. ‘He gets this look in his eyes and starts to lose focus a bit. Maybe you should take him off now for a spell before he does something silly.’

  Mr Rutherford agreed, but just as he sent the runner with that message, Sols charged at a Tigers’ player kicking for goal. The ball missed, but Sols didn’t, colliding with the player well after he had kicked. The umpire produced a yellow card and sent him to the sin bin for fifteen minutes.

  Mercifully, the siren sounded and the Booyong players trudged to the change rooms, but not before the Tremont High player, who had been awarded another kick due to Sols’ late bump, slotted through the opposition’s eighth goal for the half.

  The scoreboard read:

  Tremont High Tigers

  8

  3

  51

  Booyong Lions

  2

  4

  16

  The margin was 35 points.

  Mr Rutherford was bent over the whiteboard, switching players in an attempt to find a spark. The rest of the room was deadly quiet.

  ‘C’mon, boys, lift your heads,’ urged Specky, who couldn’t help himself. ‘We’re not that bad and you all know it. Forget about the score – that doesn’t matter right now.’

  ‘Is that right? Who asked you?’ interrupted Kyle.

  ‘Kyle! How about you listen to what Simon has to say?’ said Mr Rutherford before the other boys could react. ‘You know Simon is helping me on the boundary line, so I guess you could say I asked him.’

  Specky was surprised by Mr Rutherford’s support, and the team looked pleased as Kyle pulled a fa
ce and crossed his arms angrily.

  ‘Look, it’s easy for me to say,’ Specky continued, ‘because I’m just standing on the boundary line, not doing anything. And I’m not trying to be a smart alec or anything. I just know we’re a lot better than this. I’ve played with you guys for a long time now, and you’ve worked too hard to let this game slip away.’

  Specky now had everyone’s attention, including a large group of spectators who had crammed into the change rooms. All of a sudden, he began to feel self-conscious. But just as he thought it might be better if he shut up, Mr Rutherford interjected, sensing his uncertainty.

  ‘Go on, Simon.’

  Specky took a deep breath and continued. ‘Look, I think maybe we’ve just got to get rid of all the negative thoughts you’ve got at the moment. I know that Johnny and Danny are just as good as Miller and DePaglia. Maybe we should just let Johnny and Danny play their own game.’

  ‘Yeah, stick it to ’em, boys.’ It was Robbo, who was beginning to follow Specky’s train of thought.

  ‘That’s the way, Robbo,’ encouraged Specky. ‘Trust in each other, boys. Sols, we know you didn’t mean to get sent off. Boys, that’s just his way of trying a bit too hard. When you come back on, mate, everyone will support you one hundred percent.’

  The room began to stir and the silence that was so heavy moments ago was replaced by encouraging talk from the rest of the team.

  ‘C’mon, let’s get back into this, one goal at a time,’ said Michael Simpson, the Lions’ determined back-pocket player.

  ‘C’mon, Danny,’ added Gobba. ‘Show that DePaglia that there’s only room for one Italian Stallion in this competition.’

  ‘That’s my boy!’ came a voice from the crowd. ‘You can-a do it, figlio … you bloody beauty!’

  The whole room turned to see Danny’s father, Antonio, standing on a bench, urging Danny on.

  ‘Oh, brother!’ said Danny, as he joined Robbo for their warm-up. ‘There’s nothing like an emotional Italian father to embarrass his son.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it.’ Robbo grinned, slapping Danny on the back. ‘He loves ya, mate. I reckon it’s great.’

  Mr Rutherford took up where Specky left off and, without raising his voice, urged the boys to just take it contest by contest. He set them the goal of reducing the lead to 15 points by three-quarter time. He took Specky’s advice and released the shackles on Danny and Johnny, and he advised Sols that he would move him to centre-half forward the second his fifteen-minute penalty was up. Finally, he turned to Gobba, who was sitting quietly in the corner.

  ‘Ben, I think we might need your special commentary to call us home, too, if it’s all right by you.’

  Gobba sprang to his feet with a new lease on life.

  ‘Whatever you say, Mr Rutherford.’

  Specky smiled at what was unfolding. The Booyong Lions were not just going to lie down and die. And Mr Rutherford was starting to understand how they worked as a team – maybe he wasn’t going to be such a bad coach after all. Specky did notice, however, that Mr Rutherford hadn’t given his son any instructions. Despite the fact that Kyle had been less than friendly towards him since arriving at Booyong, Specky took a risk and made his way over to him.

  Kyle looked at him warily, but Specky ignored it and, above the noise that was building in the rooms, he said, ‘Kyle, I’ve played on that guy you’re on a couple of times. He’s strong, but he’s slow. That’s why he always plays five metres in front of you. Keep moving up to him and he’ll keep moving forward. Eventually, you’ll find that you have twenty-five metres of space behind you, and if you talk to Robbo, Danny and Johnny, and tell them to kick the ball long over his head, you’ll kick some goals for sure.’

  Kyle just shrugged and said, ‘Whatever.’ Specky gave up and moved off to join the rest of the boys on the boundary.

  The Booyong Lions played their hearts out in the second half. Danny and Johnny more than matched their opponents, Miller and DePaglia, and each of them managed to score a goal in the third quarter. Robbo continued to battle in the ruck. Michael Simpson and Gus Turner, the Lions’ full-backs, continually denied the Tremont High forwards an opportunity to score goals, and Smashing Sols, having completed his time in the sin bin, tore back on to the ground and ran around like a kamikaze pilot. He played like a man possessed, laying crunching tackle after crunching tackle, his ferocious attack on the football inspiring his team-mates to even greater heights.

  Booyong managed to cut the lead to 20 points by three-quarter time. Kyle kicked the first goal of the last quarter, courtesy of a long pass over the top of his opponent’s head from Danny that made it possible for Kyle to run into an open goal. This narrowed the gap to 14 points.

  Specky looked in Kyle’s direction, wondering if he’d acknowledge him in any way, since it looked as if his half-time advice was paying off. Kyle didn’t.

  Gobba, who’d had a brief run in the third quarter, was back on the bench in full voice.

  The crowd is going nuts here with just ten minutes to go in this epic Grand Final. Booyong, down and out at half-time, has somehow managed to dig deep and claw their way back into this game. Oh, how they would love to have Simon Magee out on the park at this very moment. If anyone could get the Lions home from here it would be him. But, having said that, folks, I can tell you every single player in this side has lifted in the second half and now this very, very good Tremont High team are looking a little vulnerable.

  For the next ten minutes, it was the sort of football you would expect from a Grand Final. Both teams threw themselves into the action with no concern for their own welfare. It was a tough, bruising affair and, with rain beginning to fall, the mighty effort was beginning to take its toll.

  Robbo was down with a bad cramp, Johnny was exhausted and barely able to lift his legs, and Danny, much to the horror of his family in the stands, had just been cleaned up fairly with a hip-and-shoulder on the outer wing.

  Without Robbo to contest the boundary throw-in, the Tremont Tigers won the clearance and kicked the ball long into their forward line. Michael Simpson valiantly punched the ball clear of his opponent only to see it land straight in the arms of Ethan Miller, who straightened up and drilled the ball through the middle of the goals.

  The Tremont supporters erupted. The margin was back to 20 points, and with just minutes to go they knew they were home.

  The ball came back to the centre and Smashing Sols raised one last mighty effort, barrelling in off the square and gathering the ball. As he fed a hand-pass out to Danny, the siren sounded.

  The Tremont Tigers had won.

  The ecstatic Tremont supporters streamed on to the field, hugging and congratulating their players.

  The Booyong players slumped to the ground, too exhausted and shattered to move.

  18. raw nerve

  Specky hopped off the tram, crossed Bridge Road, and made his way through the main entrance doors of the Epworth Hospital in Richmond. As he approached the information desk to find out which room his grandpa was in, he heard his name called out. Specky turned. It was his dad.

  ‘You came straight from the gallery?’ asked Specky, knowing that his father had been in at work to make up for the time he was spending at the hospital.

  ‘Yeah. I’ll probably have to be in there tomorrow as well, I’m afraid. Did Booyong win the Grand Final this morning?’

  Specky sighed.

  ‘Hmm. I guess that says it all. Look, Simon, I’m sorry you couldn’t play, I really am …’

  ‘Dad, it’s cool. Really it is. How’s Grandpa doing?’

  ‘He’s okay, considering. The doctor says he has to stay under observation for a while. He’s on the third floor, room three five six. Go up if you like, I just want to finish my coffee. I’ll join you soon.’

  Specky made his way to the room and knocked quietly on the half-open door.

  ‘I think you have a visitor, Mr Magee,’ said a nurse taking Grandpa Ken’s blood pressure.

  Prop
ped up in bed, Grandpa Ken’s face lit up. Specky could see that he was thinner than he had been and it made him look much older. He was in his pyjamas and his arm was attached to a drip, but his smile was exactly the same.

  ‘Here he is,’ he said, happily. ‘This is my grandson!’

  ‘Oh, the football champion,’ remarked the nurse, as she took the blood pressure strap off. ‘I’ve heard all about you from your grandfather. Nice to meet you. My best friend’s cousin is Nick Del Santo. Are you going to be as good as he is?’

  ‘He’s gonna be better than Nick Del Santo and Gary Ablett all rolled into one,’ Grandpa Ken said proudly, before Specky could answer.

  ‘Wow. That’s a big call!’ The nurse grinned. ‘I’d better get your autograph now then.’

  Specky blushed. Talk about embarrassing. Del Santo and Ablett were absolute legends of the game. If he turned out to be even a quarter as good as they were, he’d be happy.

  ‘Well, I’ll leave you two to catch up then.’

  The nurse left the room and Specky pulled up a chair beside the bed. ‘So, how’re you doing?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m okay, for a sick old bugger,’ said Grandpa Ken, ‘but I’m still a little wobbly on my feet. Did your school team win? Tell me every detail.’

  Specky described the game, play by play. Then he told Grandpa Ken about his injury.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry to hear that, lad,’ he said. ‘But I agree. You have to be one hundred percent for your big game on the mighty MCG.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Specky smiled just thinking about it. ‘I hope you’ll be well enough to come and see me play.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about that. They’d have to chain me up to stop me. I wouldn’t miss it for quids. You never know what could come out of this game in terms of your future.’

  ‘Well, Grub, our coach, said that some of us are in the running for the All-Australian side that will go to play in Ireland, which would be amazing …’

  Specky didn’t finish his sentence – Grandpa Ken had tears streaming down his cheeks and was quickly wiping them away.