by Felice Arena
‘That’s okay. Can you see if there’s a Kevin Parker, in that same book?’
‘Sure, hold on.’
Specky waited for a minute or so before Christina returned to the phone.
‘Hey! There is a Kevin Parker!’
‘Can you read what it says about him?’
‘Sure… um, here we go. Kevin came to us two years ago from country Victoria, but we won’t hold that against him. A keen sportsman, he fit into St Paul’s with ease. He’s impressed us all with his famous place kick and his football skills. Favourite saying: “I wouldn’t be dead for quids! ”’
27. crusha
For the rest of the week, all of Gosmore had Boots of Glory fever. Football somehow worked its way into all of the school subjects, from acting out footy plays in Drama to working out the square root of a goal square in Maths. The school also held a special breakfast for the staff and boarders, sold commemorative badges of the Boots, staged lunchtime ‘longest football kick’ contests and even conducted autograph signing sessions featuring Specky and his team-mates. There was extra excitement when a TV news crew came to do a story on the significance of the Boots of Glory match.
But Specky found it difficult to get into the spirit of things because his mind was still on Mr Brennan. At lunch on Thursday he had a chance to talk to Worm and Tim again about what he had learned during the gala dinner.
‘I would never have figured out it was the same guy,’ said Worm. ‘He was blond in that footage and now he’s dark haired with a beard.’
‘People change a lot in twenty-five years,’ replied Specky.
‘But I bet he must’ve been nervous whenever you guys played Salisbury. He wouldn’t want to be recognised by any of the parents or old teachers.’
Worm’s jaw dropped.
‘What?’ asked Specky and Tim in unison.
‘When we played Salisbury last year in the Grand Final, Mr Brennan wasn’t there. He had a funeral to go to. And, come to think of it, when we played them twice earlier in the season, he wasn’t around then, either.’
‘So, I guess he won’t be at the Boots of Glory match.’
‘Speck? What are you thinking? What are you gonna do?’ asked Tim.
‘We need to let Brennan know that we know it’s him.’
‘What? Why?’
‘We have to turn the tables – let him know that we won’t be told what to do. That we’ll tell Stevens about his true identity.’ Specky said.
‘But that’s too risky,’ croaked Tim. ‘What if he doesn’t care. And goes ahead with his threat and tell Stevens we took the Boots. We’ll get expelled.’
‘He won’t do it, once he finds out we know,’ said Specky, sounding more confident than he actually felt. ‘Let’s hope he won’t risk losing his job.’
‘Right, so how are you gonna let him know?’ asked Worm.
Specky grinned. He knew exactly how.
‘Shhh! Keep it down. We don’t want to wake up the others.’
Later that evening, just after midnight, Tim and Worm were watching Specky climb out the window of their dormitory.
‘This is gonna freak Crusha out,’ whispered Tim.
‘Good!’ said Specky, pulling Tim’s red balaclava over his face. ‘He’s gotta know we’re serious. Hopefully he’ll tell Brennan straight away, and he’ll pack himself and back off. Catch ya later!’
And with that, Specky scrambled down the tree.
He jogged all the way to the main entrance of Gosmore and waited by the sandstone wall. A few minutes later, the sound of bike wheels squeaking echoed through the fog.
‘Hey, Red, you there?’ came a voice.
‘Yep,’ mumbled Specky, trying his best to sound like Tim.
Crusha threw his bike to the ground and took a few steps in toward Specky.
‘Right, this is the last letter.’
Crusha handed the note to Specky. Specky unfolded the paper and skimmed over the typed message. He couldn’t read much of it in the dark, but he could make out the last three lines. It read:
This is the moment. You will kick no goals in the Boots of Glory match. Only points. Or you can kiss goodbye to Gosmore.
‘Mr X said to leave it until the morning of the Boots of Glory match for Magee to find. Got it?’
‘Nup!’ Specky answered back.
‘What did ya say?’
‘I said, Nup! Nup! Nup! Oh yeah, and one more thing… nup!’ said Specky, knowing this would cheese Crusha right off.
‘I don’t think you have a choice,’ growled Crusha, thumping his hand on Specky’s chest.
‘But, oh, I think I do!’ said Specky, thumping him back.
‘What d’ya think you’re doing? And what’s with the weird voice?’ said Crusha, sounding very angry. ‘You better do it, poor boy. Or you’re gone, loser. Gone from Gosmore for good.’
‘Who cares! I know who Mr X is. Kevin Brennan. Or should I say Kevin Parker? I bet the Gosmore olds would love to hear about that. And I’ll show them all the threatening notes. And I’ll let them know about you. So they’ll join up with the teachers of your college and do an investigation. And when they find you – and they will find you – they’ll kick your butt out.’
‘What? How do you know all this?’
Specky could hear the panic in Crusha’s voice.
Without any warning, Specky peeled off his balaclava.
‘Who the hell are you?’ croaked Crusha.
‘I’m your worst nightmare!’ Specky grinned. He had always wanted to say that. ‘I’m Simon Magee. And you’d better let Mr X know that if he keeps threatening us we’re gonna expose him. Tell him we’ll call it even, and that we’re gonna play the Boots of Glory game fair and square.’
Crusha had no comeback. He was shocked. As he turned to get on his bike, Specky called him back.
‘One more thing!’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Go Knights!’
28. the build-up
The morning of the illustrious Boots of Glory match finally arrived. The team gathered in the food hall for a breakfast with Coach Farrell. The rest of the teaching staff of Gosmore had been invited to join them.
Specky scanned the room for the Assistant Coaches. Mr Brennan hadn’t been at school on Friday. And yesterday he hadn’t been around, either, because Specky’s team had had a bye from their regular Saturday morning games. Specky could only hope that Crusha had talked to him and that Mr Brennan had decided to forget about his ridiculous threats and lay low for a while.
After breakfast, Coach Farrell reminded them that although they were carrying the hopes of the school’s past and current generations they should keep in mind that it was still a game – and that while they should do everything possible to win, they should also have fun.
This appealed to Specky. It was the first time that he had heard the word ‘fun’ in the same sentence with ‘Boots of Glory’.
‘So this is your schedule for the rest of the morning,’ Coach Farrell went on to say. ‘After finishing breakfast, you have an hour or so to relax and to meet up with your parents and families, who no doubt will be arriving very soon. While I’m sure they are all very excited, don’t let it become a distraction. There will be plenty of time after the game to catch up with them and show them around the school. Just try and keep things as normal as you can and stick to your pre-game routine. Around half past ten I want you to make your way to Regent Oval.’
Everyone had been thrilled when it had been announced that they would be defending their title on home ground. Coach Farrell continued.
‘After our warm-up session, I want everyone in the change rooms at eleven, ready to play at eleven thirty. All right, now remember, make us proud, but, more importantly, make yourselves proud!’
Everyone cheered and shouted words of encouragement, and the team made their way back to the dormitory. Some of the boys’ parents had already started to arrive, including Specky’s.
‘Hey, Simon!’ smiled Mrs Magee. ‘
Are you all ready for your glorified boots match?’
Specky’s dad, Alice and the Great McCarthy were only a few steps behind her.
‘Boots of Glory, Mum! Yeah! I think I am. Are you okay? You look awful.’
‘She’s been puking since five this morning. Woke me up! And we had to stop twice on the side of the road,’ said Alice.
‘Well, thank you very much,’ groaned Mrs Magee. ‘I can always count on my kids to be brutally honest.’
‘Sorry, Mum,’ said Specky. ‘Hey, that was great news about Johnny. I got a text message saying that his shoulder was only badly bruised. He said he’s hoping to play in a couple of weeks.’
‘Yes, we’re all very relieved,’ said Mr Magee, giving Specky a quick hug. And don’t worry, we’ll look after your mum – she’s just got a really bad case of morning sickness.’
‘Woah, check out this place,’ gasped Dieter, looking around. ‘This is amazing. No wonder they hate you back at Booyong!’
‘What?’ said Specky.
‘Nah, I’m only stirring,’ grinned Dieter. ‘But there are wanted posters of your mug stuck up everywhere, especially after you crushed us in that last match.’
Specky knew the Great McCarthy was only joking, but he couldn’t help but take it to heart. He wondered about Robbo and Danny and whether they would ever be good mates again. But just as he was starting to feel bad, Mr and Mrs Magee pointed out that they had brought another supporter along. They parted to reveal to Specky his number one fan.
‘Christina!’ said Specky, smiling.
‘Hi, Speck,’ she said, hugging him. ‘Surprise!’
Specky felt his face turn bright red. He was so happy to see Christina, and seeing her again made him realise how much he valued her friendship, her confidence and her great love of footy. He truly missed her. Specky knew he would have to play even better than his best – now that his girlfriend was there to see him.
‘So, is that where you live?’ asked Dieter, looking up at Specky’s dormitory building.
‘Yeah, I’ll give you a quick tour, but I can’t be too long. I want to go and check my gear, clean my boots – all that stuff.’
‘Oh, we’re so honoured you can spare us a few minutes, big shot,’ teased Alice.
Specky smiled and took the good-natured stirring from Alice in his stride. Soon it was time to join his team-mates and make his way to Regent Oval.
Coach Farrell took Specky and the team through their warm-up session. They did plenty of stretching, a few run throughs and a little bit of lane work. As Specky was practising his goal kicking, he saw his parents, Christina, Alice and Dieter take their seats in the Frederick Cooper Stand. A large crowd had started to stream into the ground, taking up every available seat right around the boundary. It seemed that every student and teacher from both Gosmore and Salisbury and half the town of Lovettville had turned up. Coach Farrell motioned for the team to head back into the change rooms. Specky jogged up alongside Tim.
‘How ya feeling?’ he asked.
‘This is unreal! There must be about three thousand people here,’ said Tim nervously.
‘Yeah, I know. Just try to block it out.’
Specky noticed Tim still looked concerned.
‘And forget about Brennan. Don’t even think about playing the way he wants you to. He can’t do anything to us now.’
‘I hope not.’
‘Look, he’s got nothing on us any more. There’s no way he’d risk his job. Just go out there and play your best game ever.’
‘Thanks, Speck. You too!’
A half hour later, running out of the change rooms, Specky and his team-mates were hit with a wall of screams, cheers and applause. The crowd attendance had swelled to an incredible six thousand. While they had been waiting for the teams to emerge on to the ground, the supporters had been hyped up by pre-game entertainment. They had been treated to rousing renditions of the schools’ theme songs by brass bands from both colleges, and a convoy of convertibles had paraded former Boots of Glory players around the boundary line. Victory chants had echoed back and forth between both camps, and Gosmore’s mascot, Sir Lancelot, with Old Lady Nails’s friend dressed up as the knight, had paraded proudly from goal square to goal square and entertained the crowd with their antics.
Specky fell in behind Whispers and Grizza. They led the Gosmore team out onto Regent Oval. The cheers were deafening as they burst through their banner. Moments later, it was the Royals’ turn. Again the noise was unbelievable. It might have been Gosmore’s home ground, but the Royals supporters had turned out in force and they had a massive following.
Gosmore won the toss of the coin, and the stage was set for the long-anticipated battle. Specky ran to the goal square and took up his position at full-forward. This was it. The moment everyone had been waiting for – for twenty-five years. The Boots of Glory match was about to begin.
29. watching from afar
For the first ten minutes of the game, both sides were overcome with nerves. There were a lot of mistakes and plenty of ball ups. Both teams were so pumped up that they scrapped and fought for every loose ball. The physical pressure was enormous and every time someone took possession he was gang tackled by two or three players. The Gosmore boys still remembered their unexpected defeat to the Crows and, combined with the fact that this was the biggest game in a quarter of a century, there was no way they were going to be complacent today.
It was more like a wrestling match than a footy game. Both teams were struggling to produce genuine scoring opportunities. The Royals coach had decided to put a loose man in their defence to avoid the Knights getting away to a flying start. It was a tactic used specifically to make it harder for Specky to get into the game. They had done their research on the team and they knew that he was one of the key players.
Suddenly Salisbury got a break and drove the ball to their full-forward, who led out and took a beautiful mark in front of Tim. He couldn’t do anything about it as their full-forward went back and drilled the first goal of the match.
The Royals’ supporters went berserk. But a few minutes later Gosmore responded with a great snap from Grizza. It was a magnificent piece of play from the big fella.
As for Specky, he was being covered by two players, his opponent, as well as the loose man in defence. They managed to keep him from getting a possession for the entire quarter.
Specky had never had such a bad start to a game. By the end of the first quarter, Salisbury were ahead by two straight goals.
‘Are you okay?’ Worm asked Specky during the break.
‘Yeah, they just stuck to me like super glue,’ puffed Specky, biting into a piece of orange.
‘You sure?’ asked Worm. ‘You haven’t decided to do what Brennan wants you to, have you?’
‘Are you joking? I’m playing fair dinkum out there!’ snapped Specky. ‘Stop putting negative thoughts into my head. And keep it down. Someone might hear you.’
‘Just asking, that’s all,’ shrugged Worm.
Specky didn’t mean to snap. He was on edge because he hadn’t been able to show his best. He thought back to the Booyong game and he knew that he could not afford to get frustrated. I don’t have to be taking lots of marks and kicking lots of goals to be valuable to the team, he reminded himself. Tackles and shepherds, and a genuine contest every time the ball comes down – that’s all I have to think about. The rest will sort itself out. He was determined to make an impact in the second quarter.
And what a quarter it turned out to be for him. Fuelled by his own determination, Specky came alive – charging and barging through packs, and going in harder for the ball.
Early in the quarter he led for the ball and Piggie kicked a shocker. It floated over Specky’s head, and just as his opponent was about to take an easy mark, Specky lunged back and punched the ball to the ground. As he was competing against two players, the other opponent he had to deal with was there to pick up the crumbs. He took off, bouncing the ball as he went. Spe
cky put his head down and started to chase him, even though it looked like a lost cause. But the Royals player started to slow down, thinking he was on his own, and, as Specky got closer, the Gosmore crowd were on their feet, screaming their encouragement.
Specky threw himself at his opponent and managed to drag him down just as he was about to put his boot in the ball. The football spilled free, and Grizza picked it up and fired a beautiful pass to Whispers, who had snuck down from defence. Whispers calmly slotted through the goal and the crowd went wild.
All of the Gosmore players rushed to Specky to congratulate him on his fantastic chase and tackle. He was as excited with his defensive efforts as he would have been with a big mark. It was the spark that he needed to get into the game. Shrugging his opponents off, he took a succession of solid marks and kicked his first goal of the game.
The Gosmore supporters were making enough noise for fifty thousand people. They all began to chant and clap in rhythm to Specky’s name. ‘SPE-CKY…’clap, clap, clap. ‘SPE-CKY…’ clap, clap, clap. Specky was inspired, and Whispers, Grizza, Sticks, Tim and the rest of the Gosmore team lifted with him.
The Knights were on fire. They dominated out of the centre and looked for Specky at every opportunity. By the time the siren sounded to end the second quarter, the Knights held a very handy fourteen-point lead and Specky had gone on to boot another two goals: a blinder from the boundary on his non-preferred foot and one soccered off the ground.
At half-time, the scoreboard read: Gosmore 7.3.45. Salisbury 4.7.31.
‘Brilliant, Magee!’ began Coach Farrell as Specky and his team-mates made their way back to the change rooms; but he was interrupted by the sharp sound of a car backfiring and a sudden, terrifying scream from the field.
Everyone shot around and saw Lance, spooked by the noise, bucking his rider to the ground. People scattered as Sir Lancelot sidestepped and kicked wildly in their direction. Some of the teachers ran to attend to the rider, who looked as if he might have a broken leg, while others tried to calm the frightened horse. But it was no use. No one could get near him.
