by Felice Arena
Puffin Books
Specky
Magee
& the spirit of the game
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 and
Specky Magee and a Legend in the Making.
www.speckymagee.com
PUFFIN BOOKS
Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published by Penguin Group (Australia),
a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd, 2007
Text copyright © Red Wolf Entertainment Pty Ltd and
Gamel Sports Media Pty Ltd, 2007.
The moral right of the authors has been asserted.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
ISBN: 978-1-74228-052-3
Puffin Books
G’day, all!
Well, here it is – the latest in the Specky Magee series! This is the sixth book, and after every installment a few people always want to know where Garry and I get our ideas.
Well, I’m sure that Garry draws on his memories of when he was a young footballer on the path to AFL greatness and also from being the father of three sons. As for me, I turn to my memories of being Specky’s age. In fact, I can remember everything as if it were yesterday. I know that sounds like a cliché, but it’s true – I can even remember the conversations I had with my friends! I also get my ideas from students when I visit schools all around the country. So if you have a good idea for a story, let me know!
In this latest adventure, Specky gets a taste of grassroots footy and life in the bush. As you might already know, Garry and I grew up in the country and went to the same school, and in this story we got the chance to draw on our own lives more than in any of the other books. For that reason alone we’re pretty excited by this one.
But whether you’re from the country or the city we hope that you’ll enjoy reading this as much as we enjoyed writing it. If this is the first time you’ve picked up a Specky Magee novel, then welcome and don’t worry that you haven’t read the others yet – you can always check them out later. If you’re a die-hard Specky fan, then it’s great to have you back.
Cheers!
Felice
Hey there!
As Felice mentioned, we’re both good country boys, hailing from the magnificent township of Kyabram, and we got to thinking that maybe Specky would be missing out on something if he didn’t get to experience some of the things we did.
And wouldn’t you know it, Specky and his mates Robbo, Danny and Gobba get to do just that as an opportunity presents itself to head to the bush.
It was a lot of fun for us, thinking back to those carefree days of riding around town on our bikes, doing a bit of camping and throwing a fishing line into the water. And that’s without even mentioning the heart and soul of every country town – the local footy club.
Country football is unique and if you haven’t experienced a Saturday afternoon watching football from the comfort of your car, parked on the boundary line of the local oval, then this story can give you a little insight.
And just quietly, I think it was good for Felice to turn his mind back to life in the country. After all, travelling the world as a high flyer and living in London, as he did, can mess with your mind a bit. Never forget, you’re just a country boy at heart, Felic!
Enjoy
Garry
‘Brian! Brian! Wake up!’
Brian Edwards struggled to open his eyes. He read the time on his bedside clock and groaned. He pulled the curtain aside and waved halfheartedly at his smiling coach.
Ernie was leaning out the window of his ute, parked in the driveway. ‘Come on, champ! No time to sleep in,’ he called, and beeped the horn.
‘Get a move on! Ernie’s waiting for you,’ said Brian’s dad, popping his head into the room.
‘Yeah, yeah – I heard,’ said Brian, kicking the covers off his bed. ‘I reckon he’s woken up the whole town and it’s not even seven yet.’
‘Don’t be like that. You said you’d help, and with any luck you’ll get a full team today. I’ll tell him you’re on the way. Your mother’s made brekky for ya.’
Ten minutes later, Brian jumped into the passenger seat of Ernie’s ute, a mug of tea in one hand and an egg on toast in the other.
‘You know you could’ve come in for a coffee, Ern,’ said Mr Edwards, following Brian out.
‘Nah, thanks, Tom. Gotta get a move on. I think we can get a few extra players this week,’ Ernie said, grinning. His ruddy old face squished into a million wrinkles when he smiled.
‘Fair enough. Sorry Brian’s a bit late getting up,’ added Mr Edwards.
‘Yeah, sorry,’ mumbled Brian through a mouthful of breakfast.
‘We got in around midnight last night after his State training in Melbourne. All that travelling’s starting to knock us about a bit. But that’s gonna ease up from now on.’
‘You don’t have to apologise for that, Tom. You know how I feel about young Brian here making the State team. Just as long as he doesn’t forget us when he makes the AFL,’ said Ernie, ruffling Brian’s hair. ‘That’s why I’m taking him along with me this morning. Maybe he can inspire some fellas to turn up today. I hear there’s a new family on the Jacobsons’ property. I’d like to pop in and say hello. They moved in a couple of days ago.’
‘That’s a first!’ snorted Brian’s dad. ‘People leave Rivergum these days, they don’t move here.’
‘I don’t know why not. It’s the best little town in Australia,’ said Ernie, looking downcast, but then he grinned again and started the ute. ‘I’ve heard the new people have a couple of teenagers – Mitch and Charlie. Maybe we can rope them into playing.’
‘Good luck, then,’ said Mr Edwards, waving.
Ernie and Brian drove down the street and turned left onto the road out of town. Brian glanced out the window at the landscape he had seen almost every day of his life – a blur of dusty, majestic gum trees and the mighty Murray River rolling by. He knew that Ernie would be thinking about the game later in the day. Not once for
the last two seasons had the Rivergum footy club been able to raise a full eighteen-man squad.
When Ernie passed the sign that read Mildura 42km and Melbourne 543km, he slowed right down and took a hard right down a dirt road toward the Jacobsons’ old property.
‘So, how’s it all going for ya, lad?’ he asked Brian, without taking his eyes off the potholes in the road. ‘How’s your city mate going? That Specky kid?’
‘Yeah, good. He’s good,’ said Brian.
‘And you’re ready for the move down there? You know, going to a new school and all that.’
‘Yeah, I think so. It’ll be a bit weird leaving Clifford High and all my mates, but it’ll be worth it to play for the state.’
‘That’s the way,’ exclaimed Ernie. ‘Go for your dream, mate. Just remember to come back every weekend to play for us.’
Brian smiled. ‘There’s no way I’d miss out on playing for the Redfins.’
When they reached the house, the new owners, Mr and Mrs Clarke, invited them in for a cuppa.
‘It’s Mr Hegarty, right?’ said Mr Clarke, motioning for Brian and Ernie to sit down at the kitchen table.
‘Call me Ernie, mate – everyone else does. I just wanted to welcome you and your family to the district. My wife, Lizzie, and I own the Commercial – by far the best pub in town.’
‘How many pubs are there in Rivergum?’ asked Mrs Clarke.
‘Only the one – that’s why it’s the best,’ joked Ernie.
Brian smiled. He liked Ernie’s dry sense of humour, and the Clarkes seemed pleased to have met someone new from the area. He sipped his tea and listened to Ernie hold court.
‘I’m not just the publican, though, I’m also the president, the coach and sometimes a player for the mighty Rivergum Redfins.’
‘You still play?’ asked Mr Clarke, surprised to hear that someone of Ernie’s vintage still pulled on the boots.
‘Yep. I turn sixty next month, but that won’t stop me. In fact, at the club we don’t discriminate on the basis of age.’
Brian wanted to say, ‘As long as you have two arms, two legs and a pulse, you’re perfect for the team.’ But he kept quiet.
‘Most players are aged from thirty to sixty, and sometimes we even have a few young fellas in their teens, like our young champ here,’ Ernie said, proudly slapping Brian on the back and causing him to splash some of his tea on the table.
‘Isn’t that dangerous? Boys playing against grown men?’ said Mrs Clarke as she grabbed a sponge from the sink to wipe up the tea.
‘Well, not everyone is up to it and we’d always talk to the parents first. And the young bloke would need to be pretty confident in his own ability, otherwise we wouldn’t even think about putting him out there.’
Ernie had that faraway look that he always got when he spoke about his beloved Rivergum Football Club. ‘I love me footy, but it’s not worth risking a young bloke’s health or career over,’ he said. ‘We do breed ’em tough out here in the bush, though. Young Brian is in the Victorian State team. He’s destined to make the AFL one day. His older brother, James, was good, too – he almost made it to the big league, but gave it up at the last minute to head up a fishing company in Adelaide. Brian’s old man, Tom, sometimes plays as well, when his back isn’t giving him trouble. He runs a houseboat business on the river, and his wife, Anne, is a teacher at Rivergum Primary. I’m sure you’ll meet them all soon.’
Brian wriggled in his seat, listening to Ernie ramble on about his family. Eventually, the conversation got back to football.
Ernie told the Clarkes how little country towns like Rivergum struggled to keep their sporting clubs alive. Once the young people finished school they often moved to the larger towns or big cities instead of hanging around to take over their parents’ farms or businesses.
‘And don’t get me started on insurance premiums,’ grumbled Ernie. ‘You can’t blame the kids for trying to make a better go of it somewhere else, but, by gee, it’s tough when you’ve also got insurance and umpire fees to contend with. They’re killing small clubs like ours. On a good day, we might get sixteen players, on a bad day fourteen, on a really bad day, we forfeit.’
Brian knew that in the hundred-year history of Rivergum Football Club, they had only won the flag seven times – six times in the early nineteen hundreds when paddle steamers worked the great Murray and sixteen thousand people lived in the town. Today Rivergum was just a small, almost forgotten community of about eight hundred people, and the last time the Redfins had won the premiership was twenty years ago. Ernie had coached and captained Rivergum’s best team ever to victory.
‘Couldn’t you recruit some men from Mildura or some of the other towns in the district?’ asked Mr Clarke sympathetically.
Brian decided he should say something – Ernie looked a bit depressed.
‘Um, we would if we could, Mr Clarke,’ he said. ‘But most of them play with the teams we play against. And players in the bigger teams get paid as well.’
‘Well, what if you merge with another club?’ Mrs Clarke said.
Brian turned to see Ernie’s face drop even more. ‘I couldn’t do that to the town,’ he said sadly. ‘The soul of Rivergum would be gone forever.’
‘Well, if money’s the problem I suppose we could help.’
‘No, mate, no! I don’t want your money – save it for the fundraising market day,’ Ernie said. ‘I need players. I want you and maybe Mitch and Charlie to play for Rivergum – starting today if you can.’
‘What? Our kids?’ said the Clarkes in unison.
‘Don’t you have two teenagers?’ asked Ernie, looking confused at their reaction.
‘Yes, of course, but I’m not sure if our kids –’ started Mr Clarke.
‘It doesn’t matter if they can’t play. I just want them standing on the ground. We need the numbers,’ pleaded Ernie.
‘It’s not that,’ said Mrs Clarke, laughing and walking away to stick her head into an adjacent room and wave her kids to join them.
‘Mitch and Charlie, I’d like you to meet Brian and Mr Hegarty,’ said Mrs Clarke. And two teenage girls shuffled into the kitchen.
‘These are our kids. Our girls,’ said Mr Clarke. ‘I don’t think they’ll be allowed on the team.’
∗∗∗
For the next couple of hours, Ernie and Brian drove from farm to farm trying to recruit whoever they could to play that day. Mr Clarke had agreed to come and watch and see if he wanted to play next week, but other than that it turned out to be a bad day. They could only muster ten players and the poor old Rivergum Redfins had to forfeit another Saturday game.
The only bright moment in the day came when Brian’s mother got a phone call.
‘Who was that?’ asked Brian.
‘It was the Magees in Melbourne. They said they’d be more than happy to take you in as their boarder for the next month or so – at least until we find a permanent place for you. Simon’s looking forward to seeing you in a couple of days.’
‘So, he moves in after school and starts here tomorrow.’
It was the first day of term three at Booyong High and Simon Magee was surrounded by his friends at morning recess, telling them all about Brian Edwards.
‘Are his folks gonna move down, too?’ asked Josh Roberts. Standing at six foot, he towered above everyone else.
‘I dunno, Robbo. Maybe. He’s pretty serious about his football,’ said Simon, who everyone called ‘Specky’ because of his ‘spec-tacular’ marking ability in Aussie Rules. ‘He’s a gun.’
‘Just like you, huh?’ said Danny Castellino, the rover for the Booyong Lions. ‘Who’s a better player, do ya reckon? You or him?’
‘It doesn’t matter who’s better if they’re both legends,’ said a voice from behind Specky.
It was Johnny Cockatoo. He knew what it was like to be the new kid – having only moved to Melbourne from the Northern Territory at the start of the year.
Johnny was proud of his Indigenous her
itage and he knew everything there was to know about every Aboriginal player in the AFL and all about his AFL team, the Kangaroos.
‘The Lions are gonna be strong as,’ he added enthusiastically. ‘With Brian playing for us, we’ll –’
‘Hang on!’ said Specky, cutting Johnny off. ‘He’s eligible to play for us because it’s a school comp, but he’s gonna go home on the weekends and play for his town. He plays in the seniors’ side.’
‘No way! Seniors?’ said Danny.
Specky explained that in country football players often made their senior debut at a young age. Playing out of their age group was something that country kids had to get used to from the moment they played their first competitive game of football.
Brian had once told Specky that it basically came down to numbers. The youngest under-age team Brian could play for was the Rivergum Yabbies – an Under Thirteen team. Specky had been able to play in the local competition in teams made up of kids his own age. In the cities there were teams for ‘tackers’, for Under Sevens, Under Nines and so on until players were old enough to play for their schools.
‘Mate, there were barely enough kids in my town to fill one side, let alone four or five,’ Specky remembered Brian saying, matter-of-factly. ‘When I was six years old, I started whinging to Mum and Dad that I wanted to play for the Yabbies, but they said I was too small. I used to have to run the boundary, and I only did that ’cause I was hoping they would be so short of numbers one day they would need me to play. And that’s exactly what happened. I made my debut at seven and in a hundred and twenty-one days for the Rivergum Yabbies, I never ran the boundary again.’
Specky told his friends about Brian’s town of Rivergum and the problems his footy club had trying to fill a side. Aside from Johnny, who knew all about the challenges of playing footy in the bush, the boys just shrugged. Talking about the country was like talking about another planet to them.
