by Felice Arena
Specky’s dad rolled his eyes.
‘We don’t have to start you or Ivor on the ground and hopefully we won’t need you at all,’ Dean Roeder said, trying to reassure him.
‘Well, this is all very touching,’ barked Coach Sharkey, as the cheers for Ernie died down.
‘But you still need to win, don’t you? And won’t this be an interesting match? Half the team is old, fat and slow and the others are barely out of nappies.’
Coach Sharkey laughed and stalked out of the change rooms.
‘Lizzie, we’ll need more jumpers,’ ordered Ernie, quickly swinging back into coach mode as he stood in front of the players who unknowingly held the fate of the Rivergum Redfins in their hands.
‘You have no idea what this means to me, fellas,’ he started. ‘You know I’m not one for big speeches, so I’ll give you the team positions and we’ll get stuck into ’em.’
Ernie held up the magnetic board and let the players see for themselves where they were playing.
‘Now, let’s get out there and beat those ratbags!’
Backs: Rory Shinn Ryan Dawson Josh Roberts
Half-backs: Wally Smithers James Edwards Clarry Cox
Centre: Peter O’Leary Brian Edwards Dean Roeder
Half-forwards: Gary Clarke Matt Connelly Danny Castellino
Forwards: Ernie Hegarty Simon Magee Tom Edwards
Ruck: Jimmy Prior
Ruck-rover: Kyle Dawson
Rover: Pasquale Panini
Interchange: Ivor Richards David Magee
The Rivergum Redfins clip-clopped out onto the ground to rousing cheers and blaring car horns. As a sign of respect, the team let Ivor Richards lead them out for game number three hundred and twenty-two – thirty-nine years after he played his three hundred and twenty-first.
The Rivergum crowd went nuts when the much-loved seventy-six-year-old emerged from the rooms and walked onto the oval. He turned around, and, slowly jogging backwards, waited for the rest of his team-mates.
Specky, Brian, Robbo and Danny were among the first to follow him out.
Ivor paused, out of breath, and rather than jog the whole lap, hobbled straight over to the interchange bench to sit down.
‘Hey, Brian! Hey, Specky!’
They turned to see Tiger Girl and Monique in the crowd, and immediately ran over to meet them.
‘What are you doing here?’ asked a shocked Specky.
‘Since Monique has less than a week in Australia left, I talked Mum and her boyfriend into showing her a bit of the countryside,’ said Tiger Girl, as if a five-hundred kilometre drive was no big deal. ‘We’re gonna miss school for a couple of days.’
‘Well, um, that’s great,’ said Specky as Brian and Monique moved a few steps away to talk privately. ‘Um, look, we’re about to start, but I just wanted to check that you’re okay about what we talked about at the party.’
‘Forget everything I said,’ exclaimed Tiger Girl. ‘It’s no biggie. Really! Besides, I like someone else now.’
‘You do? Already? I mean, that’s cool. Who?’
Tiger Girl waved past Specky.
Specky turned to see Robbo waving back.
‘Robbo? But I thought you said –’
‘Well, a girl’s allowed to change her mind, isn’t she? He’s really nice.’
Specky didn’t know what else to say. Girls were hard to figure out. And he certainly wasn’t going to be able to make sense of it all now, a few minutes before the game started.
Specky and Brian jogged back to the others. This was it. The grudge match to end all grudge matches.
Specky moved down to full-forward, with a very nervous-looking Danny alongside him.
‘Whoa, check out the size of these dudes,’ he said.
‘Don’t worry, mate – you’re the Italian Stallion, remember?’ said Specky. ‘Just use your speed. They can’t hurt you if they can’t catch you.’
Danny was about to respond when – thump – he found himself flat on his back.
‘Don’t get up, midget, if you know what’s good for you.’ Biff’s mate, Moz, was standing over Danny in a threatening manner.
Specky had turned back to support his friend when Biff appeared from nowhere and wrestled him to the ground. Matt Connelly was there in a flash. He grabbed Biff in one hand and Moz in the other. Pulling their heads together so that they were only centimetres apart, he snarled, ‘If either one of you try that again on these young blokes I will personally make your pathetic lives a misery.’
Biff and Moz shrugged themselves clear and went back to their positions. Specky wasn’t entirely sure the message had got through.
Danny looked pretty shaken, but Ernie jogged up from the forward pocket and reassured him.
‘That dirt bag, Moz – he smokes a pack of cigarettes a day, and has hamburgers for lunch and pizza for dinner five days a week. If you keep him on the move, he’ll have no chance of staying with you.’
Danny needed no further encouragement to stay as far away from Moz as he could.
The umpire held the ball aloft and the biggest game in Rivergum’s history was underway.
Joining me today, folks, is the brightest young up-and-coming caller in the country, Ben Higgins.
Gobba was positively beaming. He was in his element, and he and Motormouth Mick had been swapping footy stories while they waited for the game to start.
Motormouth Mick continued.
Jimmy Prior gets the first tap out and palms it to Edwards. Brian Edwards spins out of trouble and squirts a handpass to Pasquale Panini. Oh, look at him go! He might be pushing fifty, but picking tomatoes has kept him pretty fit. He looks up field and young Magee has burst out of the blocks and made a brilliant lead. Panini sends a – oh my lord, I haven’t seen one of those for a long, long time! He sends a sizzling stab pass in the direction of Magee.
Specky had made the break. He was two metres clear of Biff, and the ball was coming at him with a great deal of speed. It was like a drop punt, but the ball was spinning quicker and was only about a metre off the ground. Before Specky knew it, it had rocketed onto his chest and he only just managed to hang on to it.
What a pass from Panini. He hasn’t lost it! Ben – I like the look of this lad, Magee.
This was it for Gobba – his first real broadcast. They were going out live on local radio.
Well, take a good look at him now, Micky, because one day you’ll be telling your great grandkids that you once saw the famous Specky Magee in action. He goes back, lines up the goals. He’s only thirty-five metres out – slight breeze favouring the northern end of the oval. What a perfect start this would be for the Redfins. He’s made no mistake! Rivergum draw first blood!
Gobba was on fire. The words were flowing and he and Motormouth were doing a sensational job.
The Bull Ants kicked the next three goals, despite the best efforts of Brian’s brother, James, who was playing a blinder at centre half-back. But it was Robbo who was the best player on the ground in the first quarter. He seemed to thrive in the rough and tumble of the game, and time and time again he took saving marks on the last line of defence. He was throwing his weight around, laying big bumps and tackles, and never once took a backwards step.
At quarter time, the Redfins were trailing by only seven points.
Brian took over in the second quarter, continually winning the ball out of the centre. Early in the quarter, Specky led out from full-forward, but Biff was right next to him.
Biff might be a thug, Specky thought, but he can play great football.
Specky doubled back and Brian, seeming to read Specky’s mind, kicked the ball well over his head. Specky sprinted back with the flight of the ball and, diving full length, took a great fingertip mark in the goal square. He kicked his second goal and narrowed the lead to just one point.
But the Bull Ants started to get on top as the quarter progressed. Carl Sharkey was a smart coach. He moved his younger, quicker players onto Ernie, Brian’s dad and Gary C
larke, and they started to get away from them. Danny was struggling to get into the game, but as far as he was concerned, just getting through with all of his teeth was going to be a victory.
There goes the half-time siren, folks, and I have to say, Ben, although the Redfins have been brave, the signs are not good.
Gobba took over from Mick.
I have to agree, Micky. Sixteen points is not a huge margin, but, as the game goes on, the boys are going to get tired, and when you look at what they have on the interchange bench, it doesn’t inspire confidence. They can have three on the bench, but at this stage they can only call on a seventy-six-year-old former great or an art-gallery owner from the city who’s never played the game before. This could be it for the Redfins, I’m afraid.
The players were slumped in their chairs inside the change rooms. Two of the half-backs, Clarry Cox and Wally Smithers, could barely move, Brian’s dad was getting some work done on his back and the ruck, Jimmy Prior, had five icepacks on various parts of his body.
Ernie slowly stood up for what was possibly his final half-time address.
‘Have a look around the room, fellas. I know and you know that our backs are to the wall. Hell, some of us haven’t played for years and many of us have only known each other for a couple of hours. This is not about winning anymore.’ Ernie’s voice began to rise as he walked among them. ‘I can only echo what Ivor said earlier – this is about pride and unity and about respecting all those who have worn the Rivergum jumper over the years.’
Specky noticed Ernie’s hands were shaking and his eyes were misty.
‘I don’t care if we don’t win,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t be more proud of a bunch of blokes than I am of all of you right now. When we’re long gone, they’ll still talk about this day – win or lose. It will be remembered as the day that the spirit of the game returned to Rivergum.’
Ernie quickly walked into the toilets, not wanting anyone to see how emotional he was. The room was eerily silent.
And then Brian got to his feet. All eyes focussed on him.
‘Well, I’m not ready to give up,’ he said. ‘I know some of you are tired, but us young blokes have still got plenty left. Robbo, you move into the ruck and give Mr Prior a rest. Danny, you play rover. You and Robbo have played together so many times, just do your stuff. Mr Panini, you go to the forward pocket and we’ll swap Specky with Mr Connelly. We just haven’t been able to get it down to you enough times, Speck.’
The players began to get to their feet. Specky looked on in amazement and admiration. Brian Edwards was taking control. He was not yet fifteen, but he was rallying the troops for one last effort.
‘Dad, you and James and Mr Clarke play right back in the goal square and try and keep those young blokes that are playing on you well out of the action. We can do this fellas, I know we can.’
‘He’s right, boys,’ urged Dean Roeder.
Clarry and Wally had got their second wind and Rory Shinn, Peter O’Leary and Pasquale Panini had grim, determined looks on their faces.
This game is far from over, thought Specky as they charged back out onto the field for the start of the third quarter.
∗∗∗
Looks like the Redfins have swung some changes, Mick.
They sure have, Ben. And I like what I see. They’ve got young legs in the centre square and Magee has been brought up the ground. The first ten minutes will tell us whether Rivergum are back in this.
Robbo winked at Danny and held up three fingers. The ball was bounced and he charged at the opposition ruckman and smashed the ball fifteen metres toward their goals.
Before the opposition could wake up, Danny was sprinting on to it. He gathered it just inside the centre square and looked up just in time to see Moz flying at him with elbows raised. Danny instinctively ducked under him, baulked another opponent, and took another bounce. There was only one player between him and the goal.
The Bull Ants full-back ran toward him, but just as he was about to get a hand on Danny – THWACK – he was ironed out with a fair hip-and-shoulder from Ernie, who had come from the other pocket.
Danny ran into an open goal and the Redfins had the first goal inside twenty seconds.
‘Yes!’ yelled Specky, but he couldn’t hear his voice over the roar of the crowd.
The Stallion, the Italian Stallion, has banged one through. Listen to the crowd! There is pandemonium here, listeners. Big Josh Roberts and young Danny Castellino have set this ground alight –
Hang on, Ben. Hang on a minute. There’s a player down… Yes, I think it’s Ernie Hegarty. Oh, he looks to be in a bit of trouble. The stretcher is on its way out and so is his wife, Lizzie. This does not look good.
The unbelievable scenes of joy all around the ground were replaced with looks of concern. Ernie was still down as Specky and Brian arrived.
‘Is he okay?’ asked Brian.
Bill Tanner, the local doctor, had been watching from his car and had run onto the ground. As he was about to answer, Ernie’s eyes fluttered open, and with a shake of his head, he gingerly made his way to his feet.
‘I’ll be okay – just a clash of heads, I think.’
‘Oh, no,’ cried Lizzie. ‘Ernie, there’s blood.’
Ernie had a large gash on the top of his head and the blood was starting to trickle down onto his forehead.
‘Come on, Ern. We’ll whack a few stitches in that and you’ll be fine,’ said the doctor, taking him by the arm and helping him to the sidelines.
Suddenly car horns started blaring and people started jumping up and down, screaming and hollering and clapping their hands.
Specky and Brian turned to see what the fuss was about just in time to see Ivor Richards come trotting onto the ground, with his head held high and his chest pumped out. His socks were pulled right up, his woollen jumper was tucked tightly into his baggy white shorts and his old leather boots were gleaming in the late afternoon sun.
Ivor had grabbed the opportunity to join his team on the ground.
Ivor Richards has just replaced Ernie Hegarty on the field. I might leave this for you to call, Mick.
Thanks, Ben. But sometimes even a thousand words can’t do justice to a moment. The only thing I can add would be to say that my brother, Ivor Richards, never played football for a living, but he lived to play football. This might just be his proudest moment.
With that, Mick gently put his microphone on the makeshift bench in front of him and slowly got to his feet and started clapping. Specky could see that, for a moment, Gobba started to panic. No one was talking and they were live on radio. But then he obviously remembered what Mick had said a moment before: ‘Sometimes even a thousand words can’t do justice to a moment.’ He, too, put down his microphone and joined in the applause.
Ivor was slowly making his way around the ground. There was not one person, Bull Ants’ supporters included, who hadn’t joined in the standing ovation.
When Ivor was nearly three quarters of the way around, he veered off and headed toward the fence. There, waiting for him, was his wife, Doris. They hugged and then she sent him on his way. He gave the thumbs up to his brother and then retired to the interchange bench and tapped Specky’s dad on the shoulder.
Mr Magee was in the game.
‘It’s okay, Dad, just stand in the forward pocket and don’t get in the way.’
Specky was trying to give his dad some last-minute instructions as they broke up from the three-quarter-time huddle. The margin had been narrowed to just ten points. With Ernie still out of action, Mr Magee would have to play the full final quarter.
The crowd was at fever pitch. It had got bigger as the game wore on, as word got back to Mildura and the surrounding farms that Rivergum were in with a chance of causing the biggest upset in local history.
Rivergum had all the play in the first twenty minutes of the quarter, but couldn’t put the score on the board. Specky was starting to dominate at centre half-forward, but found himself too far out to sc
ore. Carl Sharkey, proving once again that he had a pretty sharp football brain, had put two loose players in their back line. Rory Shinn and Peter O’Leary had improved as the game went on and the Dawson brothers were proving to be fierce competitors.
With just ten minutes to go, both sides had yet to score any more goals. And while the Bull Ants didn’t look like scoring, neither did Rivergum.
Mick, I think Ernie Hegarty is going to have to pull something out of the bag if the Redfins are going to grab a miracle victory.
The ball was kicked onto the wing with Dean Roeder chasing it in full stride. Just as he got to it, though, he was tackled from behind and went down screaming and clutching his knee.
The doctor was quickly out on the oval again and called for the stretcher.
‘He’s done it bad, Ern,’ he said, turning to the coachs’ box, which was only metres away. ‘He’ll be off for weeks… Ernie, did you hear me?’
But Ernie wasn’t looking at Doctor Tanner or Dean Roeder. He had his hand up to his face, shielding his eyes from the low afternoon sun. All of the Redfin players had gathered around Dean. They turned to follow Ernie’s gaze.
‘What are they looking at?’ Danny whispered to Specky as he squinted to try and get a better look at what was now attracting the attention of almost everyone at the ground.
From out of the towering gum trees and dense bush that surrounded the Rivergum football ground, a man appeared. As he got closer, his features became clear. He was almost two metres tall and moved with the grace of a cat. He had long grey hair that was tied neatly into a ponytail, and a thick bushy beard of the same colour.
