Specky Magee

by Felice Arena

  CHRISkicks: Cool, I’ll see you then. See ya!

  FOOTYHEAD: Wait! How will I recognise you? And you forgot to tell me what sort of work your dad will be doing at the game?

  FOOTYHEAD: Hello?

  CHRISkicks had already logged off. Specky was left to think about what he had just committed to.

  For the rest of the week, he went about his life as normally as possible. He hadn’t told anyone, not even Robbo or Danny, about his planned meeting with CHRISkicks. He felt it best not to say a word, not until they were at the game. He didn’t want it to somehow get back to his parents that he was going to meet a kid who could possibly help him search for his other father—his ‘footy father’.

  12 SIMMO

  Finally Saturday arrived, and Specky was once again playing football for his school, this time against a team called Redleaf College Rovers. It was half-time and Booyong High were gathered around Coach Pappas.

  ‘Okay, boys, great first half. But just because we’re four goals in front doesn’t mean we can slacken off now. Speck, I reckon I’ll put you on the wing for the second half. Swap with Simmo.’

  Everyone’s jaws dropped in unison. They were gobsmacked—some of them almost choked on their quartered oranges and bottled water. What did the coach think he was doing? Their number one goal scorer on the wing? And Michael ‘Simmo’ Simpson at full-forward? It was pure craziness. For starters, the whole team, including Simmo, knew he wasn’t exactly a strong marking type. In fact, he wasn’t much of a kick, either. But that’s not to say he wasn’t liked by his fellow players—he was. He was a respected team player, and was passionate about his footy, but Coach Pappas’s decision to position him in the goal square in place of Specky was a strange one indeed.

  Specky, Robbo and Danny couldn’t help but notice that there was one person who was extremely happy with the switch—Simmo’s dad. He smiled proudly and gave the Coach a big wink of approval.

  ‘Did you see that?’ whispered Danny to Specky. ‘That stinks! My dad would never tell the Coach where to play me!’

  Specky had to agree with Danny. It looked as if the Coach’s decision had been influenced by Simmo’s dad. And if that was the case, then it was totally out of character for the Coach.

  Coach Pappas hadn’t been persuaded by bossy parents in the past, so why would he be now? But then Simmo’s dad could hardly be considered a bossy parent—he was actually a very pleasant man and a loyal supporter of the team. This made the sudden switch all the more unusual.

  As Specky wandered back out onto the oval towards the wing position, Simmo ran up alongside him.

  ‘Specky. I hope y-y-y-you d-d-don’t mind.’ Simmo had a stutter, and it seemed to get a little worse when he was nervous. ‘I-I-I didn’t mean to t-t-take your p-p-p-position. It’s just that m-m-my d-d-dad is…’

  ‘Simmo, it’s cool. Relax. I don’t care, really.’ But Specky did care. He couldn’t help thinking that if his biological ‘footy dad’ were there, he would’ve protested against Coach Pappas’s decision.

  Simmo wanted to fully explain why his father did what he did, but once again Specky cut him off.

  ‘Look, Simmo, forget it. You’d better get to your new position, the quarter is about to start,’ he said.

  Simmo ran off to take up his place at full-forward. ‘S-s-s-sorry!’ he shouted back over his shoulder to Specky.

  But Specky wasn’t having any of it. Even though it wasn’t in his nature to be resentful, he still couldn’t help feeling slightly annoyed. He looked over towards Danny and Robbo and rolled his eyes.

  The first ball of the third quarter was bounced, and immediately Specky’s team-mates had control of the ball, and moved it down into their forward-line. The forward pocket player for Specky’s team, Sanjay ‘The Bombay Bullet’ Sharma (nicknamed this by his mates because he had recently migrated from India and was a super-fast sprinter) took a safe mark and then beautifully kicked the ball towards Simmo. Unfortunately, Simmo fumbled and dropped the ball, missing the easiest of chest-marks. The full-back for Redleaf College swooped in and capitalised on Simmo’s blunder, darting off with the ball. He had a large opening ahead of him and decided to make a heroic dash. Specky’s team was caught off guard by the surprise break away.

  You need to have confidence to run and carry the football. Bouncing the ball at top speed can be difficult, and should be practised under pressure at training. Wherever possible, Specky and his mates always had a football in their hands. They would have competitions with one another while they ran their warm-up laps at training. How many times could they bounce the ball as they ran half a lap, flat out? Could they bounce the ball, on the run, with their non-preferred hand? Could they bounce two balls at the same time, one with the right hand and one with the left hand? These drills were designed to improve their ball handling.

  Specky made a rush towards him, as did Danny. The full-back player bounced the ball once, then again and again. His team-mates gallantly shepherded him, providing a clear passage. He covered an enormous amount of ground, even crossing the centre line. It was rare for a full-back player to achieve such a feat, and Specky and his team-mates struggled to get a firm grip on him.

  The full-back eventually kicked the ball into the safe hands of his team’s full-forward. Coach Pappas was screaming from the sideline, disgusted by his team’s sudden lapse of concentration. Redleaf’s full-forward carefully lined up his kick, tested the wind by throwing a handful of grass in the air, and shot for goal—it soared right through the middle.

  As the ball was escorted by the boundary umpire back to the centre, Specky and his team-mates shook their heads in frustration. Once again, the ball was bounced and Specky’s team-mates, determined to make amends, quickly got it down to their forward-line. But what happened next was almost an identical repeat of the previous play. That is, Simmo again missed an easy mark, the full-back took advantage of his mistake, made a break away, ran for most of the entire ground, and kicked the ball to his full-forward, who scored another goal—all in the span of just a few minutes.

  The Redleaf Rovers were on a roll, and continued to outplay Specky’s team for the entire quarter. By the sound of the umpire’s whistle, they had not only clawed their way back, but had taken the lead by one clear goal. Specky’s team-mates were quick to blame Simmo for their dismal quarter. Every goal the other team had kicked was indirectly a result of Simmo’s bad play.

  ‘So, are you going to switch Specky back to full-forward?’ chorused some of the boys to Coach Pappas as they gathered round for the third-quarter address.

  Specky glanced over at Simmo, who had dropped his head in embarrassment. Simmo couldn’t face anyone. He was very upset—he knew he was letting down the entire team. Specky suddenly felt kind of sorry for him. And he also felt slightly guilty that he and the rest of the team were being a little hard on him.

  Coach Pappas wasn’t impressed, to say the least.

  13 HIS DREAM…

  ‘How dare you all assume that the reason you’re losing is solely because of one player! This isn’t the team I know. Now stop being so petty—all of you! Great footy players are versatile. They can play in all positions if needed, and it’s a team that wins the game, not just one player. Now get out there and show me teamwork, instead of being such a bunch of whingeing babies pointing the finger at one another!’ Coach Pappas stormed back to the boundary line and joined the parents and other supporters.

  ‘Come on, everyone, he’s right! We can win this!’ shouted Robbo, who was doing his best to encourage and motivate everyone.

  Some players, when things are going against them or their team, retreat into their shells and go all quiet. Real leaders stand out when things aren’t going well. They handle pressure better and look upon the situation as a challenge. Not everyone is comfortable being a leader, using their voice to motivate those around them. Some people prefer to let their actions do the talking for them. But leadership is invaluable, and Robbo was a natural whom the whole team l
ooked up to.

  The team eagerly jogged back to their positions, ready to begin the final quarter. Specky took up his position on the wing, right next to where the coach and parents were standing. He glanced over to see Coach Pappas patting Simmo’s dad on the back. From a distance, Simmo’s father appeared very appreciative that the coach had continued to leave his son in the full-forward position. Specky was still baffled by their alliance, but somehow sensed that there must be more to this than plain favouritism.

  Whatever the real reason, Specky didn’t have time to think about it—the quarter had started. And what a quarter it turned out to be. It was a hard slog for both teams. Booyong High had regained the excellent skills they had shown in the first half of the game, while Redleaf College were still on the same lucky roll they displayed in the previous quarter. It was goal for goal all the way. Robbo, Danny and Specky all kicked one each, while ‘The Bombay Bullet’ evened the scores with superb back-to-back snaps from both pockets.

  It was no surprise to anyone that ‘The Bombay Bullet’s’ two favourite AFL players were Collingwood’s Leon Davis and Carlton’s Eddie Betts. Like these two stars, the ‘Bullet’ had exceptional goal sense, and was always able to find the ‘big sticks’, regardless of how much pressure he was under. He could kick superb ‘bananas’ from the boundary or dribble them through along the ground with the ball turning like a Shane Warne leg spinner. Like his two heroes, ‘The Bombay Bullet’ loved to kick goals—running cartwheels and several back flips were his preferred methods of celebration.

  There was only a minute or so of the game left to go, and scores were still level.

  ‘I’m free!’ yelled Specky, rushing towards an open space right by the edge of the centre square.

  Paul Solomon, known to the rest of Specky’s team as ‘Smashing Sols’ for his hard-hitting tackles, had possession of the ball. He drop-kicked it directly into Specky’s chest. Specky knew he didn’t have the time to pull up his socks and execute a controlled kick. Instead, he played on, twisting and baulking his way towards the forward-line.

  We all know that footy is a physical game, and ‘Smashing Sols’ loved nothing more than laying a big tackle or delivering a tough, fair bump. His dad, a former legend of the local Eastern Suburbs League who was renowned as one of the toughest players ever to pull on a footy boot, was always telling him that you only got hurt in football if you put in a half-hearted effort. ‘Sols’ never went at the ball half-heartedly, and he never got hurt.

  Rushing over from the other team to knock Specky off his feet was a fierce-looking back-pocket opponent.

  Fortunately, Specky caught a glimpse of him before there was any chance of the two of them colliding. He delicately hand-balled over his opponent’s head into the hands of Danny, who was running all over the ground, as a good rover should. Specky gracefully side-stepped the back-pocket player and continued to run forward. Danny then hand-balled the ball back to Specky. It was a brilliant fast-action one-two manoeuvre by the two friends.

  A lot of young players don’t like to hand-ball, preferring to kick the ball at every opportunity. But used effectively, hand-balling it can create many goal opportunities. Danny and Specky had a great understanding on the field, and often found themselves hand-balling to each other. Each night, after training was finished, they would hand-ball the ball to each other 100 times, with both their left and right hands, before they went home. During the game they mainly used low, flat hand-balls that spun backwards through the air, like a drop punt—these were called ‘rocket hand-balls’. They could also float hand-balls over their opponents’ heads, and could even hand-ball along the ground to each other if they were caught in the middle of a pack.

  Specky took a bounce, looked up, and saw he was still too far out to kick a goal. The only team-mate who was free and available for him to boot the ball onto was Simmo. Specky had no choice but to kick it to him. The ball drifted high into the sky, directly above the clumsy full-forward. Simmo’s knees rattled with nerves, while sweat trickled down the back of his neck. The full-back for Redleaf, who’d left Simmo in order to chase the ball, was now charging back towards him. Specky and the rest of his team anxiously looked on, hoping Simmo wouldn’t blow it again.

  ‘Come on, Simmo, you can mark this one. You can do it,’ muttered Specky under his breath.

  Just as the ball was in his reach, Simmo closed his eyes, took a deep breath and hoped for the best. Redleaf’s full-back took a huge leap and dived towards Simmo, grabbing him around the neck. The ball slipped through Simmo’s fingers as he and the full-back went crashing down to the ground. The umpire blew his whistle, and awarded Simmo a free kick, directly in front of goal.

  Coach Pappas, the supporters and Specky’s team all let out a huge sigh of relief. Specky sprinted over to Simmo to give him some words of encouragement before he took his kick.

  ‘Don’t be nervous, mate. Do it for your dad,’ he whispered into his ear. Specky wasn’t sure why he said what he had, but by the touched expression on Simmo’s face, he knew he had somehow said the right thing.

  Simmo lined up his kick, glanced over to his father (who gave him a proud nod), then aimed for the goal. The ball went right through the centre of the goal posts as the umpire blew his whistle to signal that the game was over. Specky’s team had won another match, but only just.

  Back in the changing rooms, Coach Pappas took Specky aside.

  ‘I’m very proud of you today, Speck. I noticed you settled Simmo’s nerves out there. It was very good of you, especially since I know you would’ve preferred it if I’d kept you at full-forward. There’s a reason I switched you with Simmo today.’

  The Coach looked around to see if anyone else was listening. Nobody was. Danny and Robbo were flicking towels at ‘The Bombay Bullet’ and ‘Smashing Sols’, while Simmo was getting a huge hug from his dad. Coach Pappas continued.

  ‘The reason is, Simmo’s father recently found out he’s got cancer, and Monday he begins chemotherapy. This will last for weeks, possibly months. Anyway, he won’t be able to come out and see Simmo play footy again—not for a while, at least—so he asked if I could put him at full-forward. His dream was to see his boy kick a goal, and he got his wish, thanks to you. You helped make that happen.’

  Specky now felt guiltier than ever for originally thinking that Simmo’s dad and Coach Pappas were involved in some kind of match-fixing conspiracy. He was glad and relieved that things had turned out the way they had.

  ‘So, are ya ready? Maggies, here we come!’ shouted Danny.

  He and Robbo had ended their towel fight and were now eagerly waiting for Specky to get changed.

  ‘Hurry up, Speck. Dad’s waiting for us in the car!’

  In no time at all, Specky was ready and seated beside his friends in Danny’s father’s four-wheel drive. As he strapped his seat belt on, he noticed Simmo and his dad waving to him as they made their way across the parking lot. Simmo mouthed the words ‘thank you’. Specky smiled and gave him a thumbs-up in return. Danny and Robbo hadn’t noticed.

  ‘Carn the Pies!’ shouted Danny.

  ‘Here we go, here we go, here we go!’ chanted Robbo.

  The two whooped and whistled. They were bursting with excitement, while Specky quietly continued to observe Simmo and his father from afar.

  He imagined for a moment what they’d say to each other on the way home, and how Simmo’s father would be so proud of him—proud of his son playing footy. Specky sighed as he watched them get into their car and drive off.

  He turned his attention back to his friends. Now it was his turn to get excited—he was off to the MCG!

  14 MAGNIFICENT MCG

  It dawned on Specky that the last time he had visited the hallowed home of Aussie Rules—the Melbourne Cricket Ground—was at least a couple of years ago, and that time he had also been with Danny Castelino and his family.

  ‘Okay, okay, settle down!’ ordered Danny’s father from behind the steering wheel.

  Danny
and Robbo were getting a little out of hand in the back seat, belting out the anthems of their footy teams at passing traffic. Danny’s younger brother, Phillip, sat in the front passenger seat and was giggling at his brother’s antics. Specky smiled. He loved hanging out with Danny and his big Italian family. They were all die-hard Collingwood supporters—actually, they were avid fans of most sports.

  Specky remembered staying overnight at Danny’s place one time and they hadn’t gone to bed until five in the morning—Danny and his family were all up watching the World Cup Soccer, telecast live from overseas. He had so much fun watching Danny’s dad, uncles and cousins jumping up and down around the lounge room every time Italy kicked a goal. It was certainly a different world from his family. This made him wonder about his biological dad again.

  Dad and I would never stay up all night and watch a sporting event together, but I bet my other dad would, Specky mused.

  Danny’s father pulled into the parking lot of the MCG. They all hopped out and joined the flocks of fans who were spilling out from the Richmond train station across the road. Specky stared in awe at the giant stadium as he and his friends made their way towards the AFL members’ entrance gates. Seeing this larger-than-life national landmark sent a tingle all the way down Specky’s spine.

  ‘One day I’ll play here,’ he promised himself, under his breath.

  Danny’s father generously paid for Robbo’s and Specky’s tickets, and they all excitedly clicked their way through the turnstiles. Once inside, Specky followed Robbo, Danny, and Danny’s brother and father through the vast concrete hallway. There was an air of excitement brewing as fans decked out in their team’s colours dodged and passed one another on the way to their seats. Specky could hear a distant roar from inside the ground—it was the crowd that arrived earlier in the day, cheering during the last few minutes of the reserves’ match.