Specky Magee and the Great Footy Contest

by Felice Arena

  ‘That’s it,’ said Danny excitedly, as if he had suddenly worked out the answer to a tough math’s problem.

  ‘What’s it?’ Specky and Robbo asked in unison.

  ‘It’s the carved footy. That’s explains why you had that dream and the prediction. It must have some Dreamtime power behind it.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ scoffed Specky. ‘What fantasy world do you live in?’

  ‘Yeah, well, you just never know,’ added Danny.

  Later that evening in bed, before switching off his lamp and turning over to sleep, Specky pulled the carved footy out of his bedside drawer, where he had put it before his shower, and stared at it for a while.

  ‘Just in case,’ he whispered to himself, as he slipped it back over his head.

  The next week at school, Specky still felt some resentment towards Robbo and Danny for voting for Screamer – especially because at lunch time and recess they had started to hang out on the lawn and kick a footy around with him. There had been moments in the past few days when Specky had asked himself, ‘Maybe it’s me? Maybe I’m the one with the problem?’ But he had always arrived back at the same conclusion – Screamer Johnson was no good.

  So, for a while, Specky chose to keep some distance between him and his friends. It wasn’t until Thursday night at footy training that he finally felt okay to be around them.

  ‘So, any more dreams? Were you wearing the carved footy?’ asked Danny eagerly, running up to him. Robbo was only a few steps behind.

  ‘Nup, and yeah, I was wearing it – so, so much for your theory,’ Specky said, smiling even though he was telling a white lie. He didn’t want to tell his mates that, on two separate nights during the week, he had worn the carved football to bed. And on both occasions he had had another intense dream. This coincidence freaked Specky out a little, and he wasn’t sure what to believe. He knew if he told Danny about it, he would blow it out of proportion. So he kept quiet and told himself that it was probably his mind playing tricks on him – he had been studying ferociously for the footy quiz, and it probably had more to do with that than the carved footy.

  He had dreamt that he and Simon were spectators at the 1989 Hawthorn–Geelong Grand Final, another standout game in football history. Simon had, once again, given him a tip for the coming weekend AFL games – Matthew Lloyd would break his own record number of goals kicked in a single game.

  ‘Awwh, well. It would’ve been cool if it was true,’ said Danny, looking disappointed. ‘How much do you reckon it’s worth, anyway? It’s made by an Aboriginal artist, so I bet it’s worth a lot.’

  ‘What’s worth a lot?’

  Specky, Danny, and Robbo turned to see Screamer walking towards them. He had overheard the tail end of their conversation. Danny was quick to answer Screamer’s question, even though Specky wasn’t keen to disclose information about something that meant so much to him to someone like Screamer.

  Fortunately, the subject changed when Screamer took off his Carlton Blues’ tracksuit top and revealed his school football guernsey with the sleeves cut off.

  ‘Unreal,’ gasped Robbo and Danny, impressed by the alteration.

  ‘Yeah, long sleeves were bugging me,’ sneered Screamer proudly. ‘Besides, only sissies wear long sleeves.’

  ‘So James Hird is a sissy, then? I don’t think so,’ said Specky, in defence of all players who have ever worn long-sleeved jumpers.

  ‘Well, if the shoe fits or in this case the jumper …’ Screamer snorted to himself, amused by his own joke. ‘Anyway I bought this and it belongs to me. I’m allowed to do what I want with it.’

  Specky bit his bottom lip. Unlike a lot of other schools, Specky’s team had the option to purchase their own jumpers, designed of course in their school colours of green and blue.

  While he watched Screamer pose and flex his biceps in his newly altered top, Specky thought there was no way he would ever mutilate his own precious number five guernsey.

  ‘Oh, I nearly forgot,’ Danny jumped in. ‘You guys are invited to stay at my place on Saturday night; we’ll be able to study for the quiz. Screamer, I know you didn’t enter the contest but you can come and stay if you want.’

  Specky winced when Danny included Screamer but he was curious to see what his response would be.

  ‘Yeah, all right, thanks,’ said Screamer. He actually seemed happy to be invited.

  But then Specky saw Mr Johnson heading their way. Screamer noticed him as well

  ‘Um, nah, forget about it,’ he said, quickly changing his mind. ‘I’m not into girly sleepovers.’

  As Danny grimaced, offended by Screamer’s comment, Specky saw something in Screamer he hadn’t noticed before. It was something about the way he looked at his father as he approached. He looked scared, Specky realised, scared of his own father.

  14. sleeves, thieves & home truths

  When Specky turned up ready to play footy on Saturday morning he had to deal with a couple of unexpected changes. Not only was Screamer named at full-forward for the entire game, but half the team had turned up that morning with the sleeves cut off their footy jumpers – including Robbo and Danny. They couldn’t wait to show off their new look to Specky.

  ‘Looks cool, doesn’t it?’ said Danny, parading around him proudly.

  ‘It doesn’t change how you play, you know,’ muttered Specky, not impressed.

  ‘Well, at least I’ll feel a lot freer.’

  ‘You’re just doing it because of Screamer,’ Specky said, bluntly.

  ‘No, I’m not.’

  ‘Yes, you are. I don’t know why you’re copying him, anyway – he called the party you’re having tonight a girly sleepover.’

  ‘Yeah, well, he probably said it as a joke.’

  Specky decided to drop the subject and focus on playing footy. Although it could be argued that not much footy was played that morning – at least not from Booyong High. The previous week, Specky and his team-mates had walked all over their opponents, this week the tables were turned. The Lions had come up against an opposition that outplayed them in every facet of the game. Everyone on the team fumbled and made silly mistakes, including Specky and Screamer. At one point Screamer missed a sitter right in front of goals. This enraged his father.

  ‘Come on, boy! That was bloody pathetic. I didn’t teach you to kick like a dog!’ he screamed unashamedly from the boundary line.

  Coach Pate cringed and some of the other parents looked disgusted by Mr Johnson’s harsh words. The game was stopped for several minutes while everyone tried to calm Screamer’s dad down after he started swearing at an umpire – a skinny seventeen-year-old volunteer just trying to do his best.

  Specky looked towards his mum and dad on the sidelines, and could tell that they were not impressed by Mr Johnson’s ugly outburst. He imagined how his mother would describe the incident later that day: ‘That man shouldn’t put so much pressure on a young boy. Having fun should be the most important thing about playing football. And as for swearing at the umpire, I couldn’t believe it!’

  Mr Johnson was setting the worst possible example for his son, embarrassing him, and giving the entire club a bad name in the process. A lot of the umpires in junior football were young boys themselves who donated their time. Many umpires were fifteen or sixteen years old, just starting out their careers. It was in everyone’s interest to encourage them and support their involvement in the game.

  Once again, Specky was thankful that his own father was just happy to see him compete and was nothing but the most fantastic support.

  Specky and his team-mates forged on, regaining some respect by bringing the scores closer together. But, in the end, they still went down by over three goals.

  The only sense of satisfaction Specky had from such an all-round awful morning was seeing the sleeveless boys in his team suffer from the effect of Melbourne’s famously unpredictable weather. Not only was the wind so strong it almost blew the eyebrows off everyone’s faces, but there were hailstones the size of g
olf balls. The heavy raindrops drenched everybody in seconds, and the temperature was the coldest on record in thirty years.

  Robbo and Danny began to wish that they hadn’t followed Screamer’s lead and ‘re-designed’ their jumpers. For most of the game, as their teeth chattered from the biting chill, they found it extremely difficult to take chest marks with a wet, slippery ball.

  ‘I thought my arms were gonna drop off,’ sulked Danny, shivering.

  ‘I wonder if mum could sew my sleeves back on? Look at the red welts the hailstones gave me,’ added Robbo, his bare arms outstretched.

  As much as he wanted to, Specky held back from laughing out loud in front of his mates – he wasn’t that cruel. He was just glad to be out of the ugly weather and drying off in the warmth of the changing rooms.

  As he unzipped his sports bag to take out his change of clothes, Specky realised something wasn’t right. He suddenly found himself in a panic. He began to frantically rummage through his bag, tossing his clothes out one by one as if he was a mad shopper sifting through a discount bin. Something was missing.

  ‘Awhh no! Where is it?’ he said with horror in his voice.

  ‘Where’s what?’ asked Robbo, coming over to his side to see what was wrong.

  ‘My carved footy. It’s gone!’

  ‘You sure you didn’t leave it at home?’

  ‘Yes. I remember putting it in the bottom of my bag. I was planning to wear it after the game. And now it’s disappeared! I can’t believe this! How could I lose it? What am I gonna say to Cedric? Awwrrh man, this is terrible.’

  Distraught, Specky dropped his face into the palms of his hands.

  ‘Hey, look, it’ll show up somewhere,’ said Robbo trying his best to offer some sort of comfort.

  ‘No it won’t,’ snapped Specky, raising his head, now looking more angry than upset.

  As much as he didn’t want to believe it, Specky could only think of one other reason for its disappearance.

  ‘I didn’t lose it,’ he said, forcefully, with eyes squinting. ‘Someone’s stolen it.’

  Later that evening at Danny’s sleepover, the study-night was well under way. Danny, Robbo, and Specky were sprawled out on the lounge-room floor in front of the TV watching a live match between Port Adelaide and Essendon.

  One of the best ways for young footballers like Specky to pick up hints that would make them better players was to watch the country’s best footballers in action. Whether it was Glenn Archer tackling someone, Simon Black short passing or Warren Tredrea marking, Specky and his mates were glued to the telly.

  They had just gorged themselves on Mrs Castelino’s delicious Italian cooking – lasagna followed by chocolate and vanilla cannoli for dessert. Specky was doing his best to have a good time with his friends even though he felt as if he was at a funeral wake rather than a sleepover.

  ‘Do you think Johnny’s dad will be really spewing once he finds out you lost his carving?’ asked Danny from out of nowhere.

  Robbo shook his head in disbelief at how insensitive Danny could be at times – being subtle wasn’t his strong point.

  ‘I didn’t lose it. I told you, it was stolen,’ answered Specky, firmly.

  ‘By who then?’ asked Danny for the fifth time that day.

  ‘Look, I don’t know,’ answered Specky, even though he knew it didn’t take a genius to work out that it was probably Screamer. He just didn’t want to give his friends another opportunity to defend him.

  ‘Well, I don’t believe you,’ said Robbo. ‘I know you better than that, Speck. Come on! Be honest. You reckon Screamer did it, don’t you?’

  Specky pretended not to hear Robbo, choosing to flick through one of the many footy books they had brought along to study.

  ‘It couldn’t have been Screamer, anyway, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ added Danny.

  Specky glanced up at Danny, curious to know why.

  ‘Well, if he did steal your carved footy, why would he leave this lying around near your bag?’ Danny held up Screamer’s Carlton tracksuit top. Screamer had apparently left it behind in the changing rooms, not too far from Specky’s sports bag. Danny had picked it up with the intention of returning it to Screamer on Monday morning at school. ‘No thief would ever leave evidence that they were there – it’s too obvious.’

  Robbo snorted. ‘You crack me up, Castelino. Or should we call you Sherlock Holmes?’

  Specky shrugged, as if to say he didn’t care.

  ‘I’ve got an idea,’ Danny said, suddenly springing to his feet. ‘Why don’t we go to Screamer’s house now. He only lives two streets away. We can drop off his top. You’ll be able to see for yourself if he looks guilty or not. But I doubt he is.’

  ‘That’s so dumb. That’s not gonna prove anything,’ scoffed Robbo. ‘I mean, you need –’

  ‘All right, let’s go then, said Specky, stopping Robbo mid-sentence. ‘What have we got to lose?’

  Danny nodded in agreement, while Robbo glared at Specky, slightly suspicious about his friend’s sudden eagerness to go.

  ‘Where do you boys think you’re going at this time of night?’ asked Mr Castelino, calling them back just as they started rushing out.

  ‘Just to Screamer’s house. He lives nearby, Dad. We won’t be gone long,’ answered Danny.

  ‘I don’t think so. It can wait till tomorrow. Anyway, I thought you were meant to be studying?’

  Danny whined and begged for his father to let them go, until he eventually gave them permission. But they had to be back within fifteen minutes.

  ‘Here, take my mobile,’ he said. ‘If you’re not back by quarter past nine, I’ll call you – so no excuses.’

  With no time to waste, the boys decided to run all the way to Screamer’s house – panting and puffing through the crisp cool night air.

  Within a few minutes Specky, Danny and Robbo reached the pathway leading up to the Johnson’s house.

  As they approached the front door, they could hear Mr Johnson’s loud angry voice bellowing from inside.

  ‘Derek! Don’t you bloody take that tone with me, boy.’

  Specky glanced over to Danny and Robbo but it was difficult to see them in the darkness.

  ‘Don’t ring the bell,’ he whispered.

  He gestured for his friends to follow him quietly onto the front lawn and to crouch down just below the base of the lounge-room window.

  ‘What are we doing?’ whispered Robbo, looking worried.

  ‘Shhh!’ hissed Specky, placing his forefinger across his mouth.

  ‘Maybe we should just leave his tracksuit top on the doorstep and go?’ suggested Danny, looking worried.

  But Specky wasn’t budging; curiosity had gotten the better of him. This was his chance to see how his arch-rival lived. He was also determined to find out why Screamer’s dad was getting stuck into him. Specky slowly edged his face up to the window, as did Robbo and Danny. They couldn’t believe what they saw – Screamer was sobbing.

  ‘What have I said about you paying attention? You’re useless, you know that?’ growled Screamer’s dad, towering over him. ‘Just like today; you played like a mongrel because you weren’t paying attention.’

  ‘We all played bad; it wasn’t just me,’ whimpered Screamer.

  ‘I don’t care how the others play, in fact, you’re getting a little too chummy with them for my liking – maybe that’s what’s throwing your game.’

  ‘But you said I had to be nice to everyone,’ sniffed Screamer.

  ‘Yeah, so they’d vote for you as captain, you idiot.’

  Specky turned to Danny and Robbo and by the light streaming from the window he could see that they looked totally shocked. Specky couldn’t help feeling sorry for them. He knew only too well what it felt like to doubt those people that you thought were your friends. Besides, he thought, no one deserved to be tricked and made to feel like a fool. But watching how his father was treating him, he even felt the slightest bit sorry for Screamer.

&nb
sp; ‘You have to straighten up if you’re ever gonna be a true footballer; you know you’re in my bad books at the moment. And what the bloody hell is that around your neck?’

  Mr Johnson took a step toward Screamer and pulled out something loosely hanging behind his T-shirt. It was about the size of a fifty-cent coin and was painted with red, black and yellow dots. It was the carved footy.

  Robbo and Danny gasped again.

  ‘He did steal it,’ Danny whispered.

  Specky nodded. ‘I told you so.’

  ‘It’s an Aboriginal artwork, Dad. It’s worth a lot of money,’ Screamer explained tearfully. ‘You can have it if you want …’

  ‘This is exactly what I’m talking about – you’re distracted by all this type of rubbish.’

  Then Mr Johnson did the unthinkable. He ripped the carved footy from Screamer’s neck, and stepping towards the open fireplace in the room, he tossed it into the fire.

  ‘Oh my God,’ mouthed Specky.

  Robbo and Danny quickly grabbed him and just stopped him from falling over backwards.

  Specky almost stopped breathing. ‘What am I gonna say to Cedric? I can’t believe this!’

  Robbo and Danny shook their heads, trying to think of something to say to comfort their distressed friend.

  ‘We’re sorry we didn’t believe you,’ said Robbo, softly.

  ‘What a jerk! What are you gonna do?’ added Danny.

  Specky shrugged his shoulders. He was still staring at the fireplace in utter disbelief when suddenly Mr Castelino’s mobile phone began to ring.

  ‘Quick,’ Robbo panicked. ‘Switch it off, they’ll hear us!’

  But it was too late. Screamer’s dad was already making his way over to the window.

  15. exam day

  Even Cathy Freeman would have had a hard time keeping up with Specky, Robbo, and Danny as they bolted away from Screamer’s house. They darted so quickly down the street that by the time Screamer’s dad looked out the window, all he could see were three shadows sprinting off into the distance.