Specky Magee (11 page)

Specky paced the goal square, eager for the ball to come his way. Unfortunately, the other team had got off to a superb start, and had taken Specky’s team by surprise. In fact, the ball had only come down to Specky’s end once, and even then he struggled to get a hand on it.

This wasn’t the type of play he wanted Bob to see, and by the time the first-quarter whistle sounded, Coach Pappas wasn’t the only one who was disappointed. Specky’s team huddled together and faced their upset coach.

‘I want you all to wake up!’ he said, raising his voice. ‘They’ve kicked four goals two to our big fat nothing. C’mon, guys! Snap out of it. I know you can play better than this.’

Specky hadn’t heard his coach’s plea. He was looking over at Bob, who had wandered away from the boundary line to talk on his mobile phone. Specky tried to get his attention, hoping he would look up, but he didn’t. The umpire blew his whistle—it was the second quarter. Specky continued to look back at Bob as he ran to take up his position at the other goal square. He was still engrossed in his phone call, as he had been at the movies the other day.

‘Specky!’

Specky looked up to see that the ball was heading his way. Danny broke away from the centre and stab-passed the ball to Robbo. Robbo swiftly kicked it to ‘Smashing Sols’, who then gave it an almighty boot. It was a powerful, good-looking torpedo kick. The ball shot high into the sky, arcing its way down towards Specky.

The torpedo punt, when kicked properly, covers more ground than any other kick. It travels in a spiral motion through the air, and requires a lot of practice. The ball is held at an angle, across your body, and should make contact with the middle to outside part of your foot. There is a big margin for error and
a lot of torpedoes go horribly wrong and drop short or fly off the side of the boot. But the one that spins correctly is a work of art and a delight to watch.

This was his big chance to impress Bob, so Specky hoped he was watching, as he took to the air at the same time as three other opponents who were going up for a mark. Specky was wedged in among the others. The pack flew, and all four boys had their hands only centimetres away from the ball.

Suddenly, one of the players accidentally swung back his elbow, right in between Specky’s eyes. It was a painful blow, and Specky dropped to the ground with a gut-wrenching thud. The umpire blew his whistle to halt the game.

‘Oh, no! Speck!’ shouted Danny and Robbo, who could see it was a pretty hard knock.

Specky was out cold. He lay motionless on the moist grass.

Coach Pappas and the other supporters rushed out to Specky’s side. Bob was nowhere to be seen.

‘Give us some space! Stand back!’ yelled Coach Pappas, as he knelt down beside Specky.

‘Specky? Speck? Can you hear me?’

There was no response. The coach checked Specky’s pulse—he was still breathing, but only just. ‘C’mon, lad. Wake up!’ he said, tapping him gently on the face.

But still no response. Everyone looked on in horror. This was a serious injury.

‘Call an ambulance!’ shouted a concerned voice, bursting through the crowd.

‘Who are you?’ asked the umpire.

‘I’m the boy’s father.’

Danny and Robbo couldn’t believe their eyes as they looked up to see that it was indeed Specky’s dad, Mr Magee. Bob was still nowhere to be seen.

‘Yes, he’s right. Call for some help!’ added Coach Pappas. ‘He could have a spinal or neck injury, so don’t move him!’

It was only minutes before the howling siren came screeching to the scene. The ambulance officers bolted across the oval to Specky, and after checking him out, gently placed him onto a stretcher and loaded him in the back of the ambulance. Mr Magee jumped into the back with Specky, and they sped off to the hospital.

Specky was still unconscious in his hospital bed. The doctor had put an oxygen mask on him, and attached all sorts of wires to his body and head. The hospital staff and Specky’s family waited anxiously, hoping and praying he would wake up. Throughout the day, Coach Pappas, Danny, Robbo, Specky’s team-mates, and even Christina and her dad had tried to visit but were prevented from doing so by the doctors—only family members were allowed by Specky’s bedside. Instead they left their good wishes at reception.

‘Oh my God!’ whispered Alice. Specky was opening one of his eyelids.

‘Hey, squirt. Can you hear me?’

Specky groaned.

‘Oh my God! He’s waking up!’ she screamed. Alice jumped up out of her seat and pressed the buzzer by Specky’s bed to notify the doctor and nurses.

‘Alice?’ mumbled Specky. Both of his eyes were now open.

‘Yeah, it’s me. You just keep still and don’t panic. I’m going to get Mum and Dad!’

Specky was confused. He grabbed Alice’s arm before she had a chance to leave. ‘Where am I?’ he gasped, under the oxygen mask.

‘You’re in hospital. You were knocked out at footy today, remember?’

‘Where’s Bob? Did he see me mark?’

‘Bob? Who cares about him! He did a runner, Si. He didn’t even see you get hit. He left a message on the answering machine saying he had to head back up to Sydney. He had some stupid audition. He doesn’t even know you’re here. Dad helped the ambulance guys take you off the oval.’

Specky removed the oxygen mask and coughed a couple of times. ‘Dad? What was he doing at the game?’ he said.

‘He was watching you from a distance, in his car. He didn’t want you or Bob to see him.’

Just then the doctor and two nurses rushed in. Alice ran off to get her parents, who were having a break in the hospital canteen.

‘How many fingers can you see?’ asked the doctor, holding up his hand.

‘Four,’ answered Specky correctly.

‘What’s your phone number?’

Specky correctly recited his home number.

‘Simon!’ cried Specky’s mother, dashing into the room. She hugged him tightly.

‘Well, initial signs look good. But we’ll have to keep him in for two or three days observation.
We’ll also schedule him in for a brain scan,’ said the doctor to Specky’s dad.

‘Dad,’ muttered Specky.

Specky’s mother and the doctor stood aside, to let Specky’s father get in closer.

Specky stared up at his dad for a moment, and tears started to well up in his eyes. His father leaned down and hugged him.

‘It’s all right. I’m here,’ he whispered into Specky’s ear.

‘I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry…’

‘Hey, shhh, it’s okay.
I’m
the one who should be sorry.’

Specky knew at that very moment that there was no other father for him than the man who was holding him right there and then. He may not have been a ‘footy dad’, but he was a father who was there for him when it really mattered—and that’s the best sort of dad anyone could ever ask for.

‘I love you,’ mumbled Specky.

‘I love you too, son.’

Specky and his team-mates stumbled off the footy oval. They were happy with another victory. With less than half a season to go, they
felt confident about their winning streak. They all looked forward to the coming weeks, the finals, and the adventures that were sure to come from them.

‘Great game, Simon. You are
so
good! I had no idea you were such a talent,’ Specky’s dad beamed proudly. He had watched the entire match.

‘Before you go and get changed, there’s something I want to ask you,’ he said, ruffling Specky’s hair.

‘What?’ asked Specky.

Specky’s father pulled something out of his bag—a brand new football.

‘I was wondering if you could teach your old man how to kick one of these things?’

Specky’s entire face lit up. He had the biggest grin that any 12-year-old boy who loved footy could ever have.

‘You bet!’

Angus&Robertson

An imprint of HarperCollins
Publishers
, Australia

First published in Australia in 2002

This edition published in 2010

by HarperCollins
Publishers
Australia Pty Limited

ABN 36 009 913 517

www.harpercollins.com.au

Copyright © Felice Arena and Gamel Sports Media Pty Ltd 2002, 2009

The right of Felice Arena and Garry Lyon to be identified as the authors of this work has been asserted by them under the
Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.

This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the
Copyright Act 1968,
no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, store in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:

Author: Arena, Felice

Title: Specky Magee / Felice Arena; Garry Lyon.

Edition: Rev. ed.

ISBN: 978 0 7322 8902 7 (pbk.)

ISBN: 978 0 7304 0100 1 (Epub)

Notes: Previous ed.: Pymble, N.S.W.: Angus & Robertson, 2002.

Subjects: Family – Juvenile fiction.

Australian football – Juvenile fiction.

Adopted children – Juvenile fiction.

Other Authors/Contributors: Lyon, Garry, 1967 –

Dewey Number: A823.3

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