Will had just finished some specialised drills with Deon, Oliver, and Charlie on their usual Tuesday-morning training session when Julie approached.
“Okay, Deon, Will’s had you for long enough. It’s my turn.” Julie smiled in a way that didn’t give Deon a happy feeling.
Deon glanced at Will who shrugged and grinned. “Julie asked for some of your time. I said yes.”
“Thanks.” Deon loaded his reply with as much sarcasm as he thought he could get away with. He turned to Julie. “I’m ready.”
She stared for a moment and then nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, let’s get going.” She jogged towards the goal posts, Deon by her side.
“What are we doing?”
Julie looked back across the oval for a moment. “For starters, we’ll just do a nice easy jog. Stick to my pace.”
As he followed her, Deon glanced in the same direction. He didn’t see anything except Jim and Ty doing their Tuesday-morning endurance run. Assuming they were going to run for their usual length of time, they were about halfway through. A wary suspicion crept into his mind.
“I understand you’ve got an appointment this afternoon,” Julie said as she slowly increased the speed.
“Yeah, that’s right. I’m guessing Peter told you about it.”
She grinned. “He did, and that’s why I’m here. You’re good at what you do, Deon, but you’ve still got a long way to go. Keep working on your accuracy, but it’s time to start work on other things, too.”
Deon made a guess, hoping he was wrong. “Like endurance?”
“Exactly!” Julie chuckled as Deon winced. “As soon as the brat and Dad reach us, you’ll be using them as your pacesetters.”
“Does that include the sprints?” Deon knew the answer; he was just procrastinating.
“Of course!” Julie grinned at Deon’s expression. “Hey, consider the positives. Those two will be tired after about an hour of running. If you can’t keep up with them while you’re still largely fresh, then you’re in worse condition than I thought…which wouldn’t be good news for you.”
“That’s the stick. What’s the carrot?” Deon forced a grin to show he wasn’t serious, at least not completely.
Julie frowned. “The AFL’s the carrot, Deon. If you haven’t worked that one out by now, it’s time for you to pack up and go home.”
Deon grimaced. “I knew that.”
“You were just hoping for something more.” Julie glanced back over her shoulder at the other pair of runners before looking at Deon again. “Sorry, Deon, but you need to make your own rewards. They’re your motivation, after all. Do the hard work to get what you’re after. If you really want it, you’ll do what needs to be done.” She smiled. “They’re almost on us. Peter told us that you haven’t said anything to your teammates yet, so this subject is about to be closed. Last chance for any other questions…”
Deon shook his head and picked up the pace. He knew what was about to happen.
“Then let’s sprint. We’ll see how long we can stay in front of those two.”
* * *
Deon collapsed on the ground. Ty, bent over and breathing heavily, gave him a momentary grin. “Been there. Done that.”
Deon rolled his head to where Julie and Jim were standing. Jim had his hands behind his head and was taking deep breaths, but Julie only looked flushed. She grinned down at Deon. “Now do you understand how much further you have to go?”
Ty glanced across at her and then straightened. He swayed momentarily and then frowned. “What do you mean?”
Julie cocked her head. “Let’s be honest. That last part wasn’t as tough as what you and Dad have been doing recently. You both took it easy on Deon and would’ve been even more lazy if I hadn’t been here to force the pace.” She jabbed a finger at Ty. “You’re not doing your teammate any favours by not working hard. His fitness needs improvement, just like yours and Dad’s still does. He doesn’t need the same level as you, but don’t let me see you two using Deon as an excuse to take it easy. He’ll be joining in the second half of your runs from now on…and I’ll be keeping an eye on all three of you.”
“Be fair.” Jim paused for more oxygen before continuing. “Killing him won’t be doing him a favour, either.”
Julie snorted, a smile playing on her lips. “True, but he’s a long way from dying, even if he thinks otherwise at the moment.” She glanced down at Deon again. “Work hard. It’ll all be worth it in the end. I’ve booked you a massage with Jackie in half an hour. That’ll give you time to stretch and cool down. Good luck!”
Jim frowned at Julie as he watched her head over to join Will with his remaining small collection of forwards. “What was that about?”
Ty managed to stop himself from saying anything, but he couldn’t prevent himself from glancing down at Deon. Deon grimaced and then started to leverage himself back upright. Ty stepped over and gave him a hand. He grinned in response to Deon’s smile of appreciation as he hoisted his teammate to his feet.
“I…” Deon swayed for a moment and then lifted a hand. “Give me a sec.”
It was closer to a minute before Deon looked capable of holding a conversation. Ty fielded Jim’s quizzical look with a shrug. He had guessed at why Julie had Deon join them, but it wasn’t his place to say anything.
“Julie wants me to…that is…” Deon ran a hand through his hair while not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I’ve got an appointment with a player’s agent this afternoon. He thinks I’m a chance in this year’s draft.”
“Way to go, mate!” Ty gave Deon a slap on the back, a slap that staggered his teammate even though Ty hadn’t used much force. “If killing you every Tuesday morning will help you get into the AFL, I’m all for it.”
Deon tried to chuckle but was still too exhausted. He gave Ty a weak smile. “Don’t do that to me, brat.”
Ty glanced around quickly before grinning. “You’re not a baby anymore, Deon. You can take it.”
Jim snorted. “Brat.” He smiled, stepped forward, and stuck out a hand. “Congratulations, Deon.”
“Thanks, but nothing’s happened yet. All that’s happened is I’ve been told I’ve got a chance, and that wasn’t by someone who has any say in the matter.”
“Do you mean the agent?” Ty shrugged. “They generally know what they’re talking about. They have to; it’s their job. Of course, they sometimes get it wrong…” His voice trailed off.
“You had player agents talk to you last year?” Jim asked gently.
Ty screwed up his face. “Yeah. Lucky for them I didn’t sign with anyone. They certainly fucked up that one, thinking I’d be drafted.”
“Can you tell me anything about them?” Deon asked. “Things to watch out for? Questions to ask them?”
Ty grimaced and looked away. “Not really. My old man told them that he’d manage things. Some spoke to me directly—which pissed off my old man no end, so I suppose they’re useful for something—but I usually brushed them off. The only people I was interested in talking to were the recruiters and scouts.”
Ty felt a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t look, but he knew it was Jim. After a couple of seconds he put on a grin and turned back to Deon. “Well, good luck! Hopefully, this one knows what he’s doing and is picking a hot draft prospect!”
Instead of the smile Ty expected in response, Deon’s expression was almost unreadable. “Thanks, brat.” Deon then smiled. “But I’m a Leopard first. Let’s finish the season before I start worrying about being drafted.”
“Exactly right!” Ty grinned and then winked at Jim. “Dad, is now a good time to tell Deon what happens after we finish our run?”
Jim laughed. “Sorry, brat, but you heard Julie. Deon’s got an appointment with Jackie, so he’s not going to be able to join us for a session in the gym.”
Ty slowly shook his head in an exaggerated manner. “That’s favouritism. Julie shouldn’t be doing that to him. If she keeps this up, everyone will think he’s just a big baby.” He grinned at Deon.
“Brat.” Jim clipped Ty on the back of the head. “Come on, let’s get going before we cool down too much.”
Ty nodded, but turned to Deon before they left. “Good luck, mate.”
“Thanks, brat.”
* * *
“…and that’s what I do for my 3%.” Alastair grinned. “I know it doesn’t sound that much, but if you get drafted, the main thing for the first couple of years is to focus on your football. For those two years, my job is to help you maintain that focus by taking other concerns off your shoulders. Assuming a standard first contract, you’ll have two years to prove to whichever club has drafted you that you’re worth them investing in and offering you another contract. You and I both want them to do that.”
Deon sat for a moment. The two were in a small coffee shop off the main road through Lilydale. Alastair McCrae had picked up Deon from the football club and would be dropping him back once they were finished.
“You said 'assuming a standard first contract’. When wouldn’t I be offered that?”
“Good question. The answer is that some of the interstate clubs may offer a first-up, three-year contract instead of two. They do that to try to attract and keep players from other states. The AFL draft requires that all new draftees be offered a two-year contract at a minimum, but there’s no reason a club can’t offer more.”
“And if I go with you, I’d need to sign before the draft?”
Alastair smiled and shook his head. “No. You can sign after you’re drafted if you want. I’d personally like you to sign beforehand, but that’s simply because I think you’re a good prospect, and I’d hate for one of my competitors to grab you instead. If you like, you can wait until after draft day and then decide what you want to do. You don’t have to sign up with anyone if that’s your preference.” Alastair shrugged. “To be honest, I’ve got less to offer you than most people I try to sign. Most of the kids are still in school and don’t understand what happens when they start a full-time job. For those guys, I try to shield them from a lot of the hassles that occur, but you already know what to do there. Negotiating contracts—one of my most useful talents to help you—won’t come into play until your first contract is running out.”
“So, assuming I get drafted, which I’m still not sure I believe will happen, I could wait a year or more before I sign up with anyone.”
Alastair laughed. “You’re a tough negotiator in your own right, Deon. Yes, you could. It might even be best for you to wait at least a few months after getting drafted to see who to sign with. That way, you’d be able to talk to your new teammates about their experiences with their agents.” He cocked his head. “But I would advise against waiting more than a few months. You wouldn’t want to be distracted from your football when it’s time to start negotiating a new contract. You’ll also be happier having someone you know and trust to do it for you.
“Take your time, because I don’t want to put pressure on you—that’s the last thing I want to do—but a big part of what I do is building a relationship with my clients. You’re not just a pay packet to me. You’ll be someone I’ll be working with to make sure you’re both successful and happy. If you don’t want the highest-paying contract for personal reasons, then don’t expect me to pressure you to take it anyway. While I do this job to get paid, I also do it because I want to see kids like you make a name for themselves. And, in my opinion, success isn’t measured by your pay packet. Success is measured by how successful you feel. You may be the lowest-paid person in your job, but if you’re happy with who you are and what you’re doing, then in my book you’re successful.”
Deon nodded slowly and then grinned. “But being paid megabucks doesn’t hurt.”
He received a chuckle in response. “No, it doesn’t.” Alastair paused for a moment. “How do you feel about your football? I’ve told you what I think, but what’s your opinion?”
“I…” Deon dropped his gaze. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m playing the best footy of my life, but I don’t want to look too far ahead.” He looked up into Alastair’s sympathetic eyes. “My focus for now has to be the Leopards. We’re doing well at the moment, and we want a premiership. That’s what I need to focus on.”
“Keep that attitude. No matter what happens this year and in the future, keep thinking that way, Deon. Because that’s exactly how you should be thinking if you end up in the AFL.”
* * *
Clarissa started to tap her foot. “Where the hell is he?”
Liam glanced around nervously. They were waiting by Neil’s locker at the end of the school day. “I don’t know. He’s been avoiding me all day for some reason, but I didn’t think he’d miss coffee with you.”
“What do you mean he’s been avoiding you?” Clarissa narrowed her eyes. “Has something gone wrong between you two? When he didn’t stay for lunch, I took him at his word that he had some things he had to do. Is there more going on than meets the eye?”
“I don’t know!” Liam forced his anxieties to the side. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be sharp with you. He was fine yesterday, but last night he begged off chatting online or on the phone, saying he had too much homework, and then today he caught an earlier train, and I was almost late for school. I waited at the station for his train to arrive—no Neil; he wasn’t on the next train, either. He sent me a text to say he was sorry that he hadn’t let me know, but we’ve barely spoken two words all day. Most of the time, he rushes off with some sort of excuse.”
Clarissa pulled out her phone. “I’ll give him a call.”
A minute later, she hung up and scowled. “Something’s definitely wrong.”
“What did he say?”
“He apologised, but he had some things to do at home, and he’s about to get on a train.”
Liam glanced at his phone. “The school bell only rang fifteen minutes ago. He must’ve rushed out as soon as it went off. He might’ve even skipped coming here to his locker because he was expecting us to be waiting.”
“Yeah, genius, I worked that one out.” Clarissa grimaced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound snarky, but I’m worried. This is the way he used to be. Why has he reverted?”
“Because he’s being bullied again?” Liam stiffened. “His parents. His fucking parents! They’ve done something, I know it. He’s running scared.”
Clarissa frowned. “You could be right, but what can we do about it?”
Liam picked up his school backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “What any boyfriend would do. I’m catching a train to Lilydale.” He took a step away and then looked back. “Are you coming?”
She hesitated and then nodded. “I just need to let my parents know I’ll be home late.”
“I’ll do the same once we’re at the train station.” Liam scowled indiscriminately at his surroundings as he marched off. “Those fucking bastards. I knew I should’ve been with Neil on the weekend. I should never have let him go to see them without me.”
They had only just left through the school gate when Clarissa turned to Liam. “By the way, I know Neil’s living with Todd and Ollie, but I don’t know where that is. I can find out from Helena if I have to, but do you know where we’re going?”
“Yeah, I do.” Liam took in her suspicious look and gave her a nervous chuckle. “No, I haven’t been stalking him again. Todd told me where he lives. My dad and I went there to tell Neil I’m Alf, remember?”
“Okay. That’s a weight off my mind.” Clarissa scowled. “Now I just need to get hold of Neil so I can pound some sense into him. If he’s got problems, he’s got friends who can help him!”
* * *
Neil was doing his homework on the kitchen table when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Oliver called out from the other room. Shortly afterwards, he appeared in the doorway. “You’ve got visitors.”
Neil looked up and then swallowed. He didn’t need a mirror to know his face had probably gone white. “Liam, Clarissa…”
Liam smiled hesitantly from where he was standing, but Clarissa stepped forward and pulled out the chair opposite Neil. She sat down and plonked both elbows on the table. “What’s the hell is going on, Neil? If there’s something wrong, you’ve got friends who can help.”
Neil glanced up at Liam and then back across the table at a clearly disgruntled Clarissa. “Er…I…”
“Would either of you two like a tea or coffee?” Oliver asked as he moved towards the kettle. “I’m making one for myself.”
Clarissa gave Neil a hard stare across the table for a couple of seconds before turning to Oliver. “Coffee would be great. White with four sugars.”
“Four…?” Oliver blinked.
Clarissa grinned. “I have to keep my sweetness levels up. I’m generally so nice to people that by the end of the day I’ve run out of sweetness and,” the grin disappeared as she turned to Neil, “I start getting grumpy. Especially when people are-”
“Clarissa…” Liam waited a moment to see if his warning growl had stopped her and then glanced at Oliver. “Black coffee for me, please.”
While Oliver made the drinks, Liam pulled out a chair and joined Neil and Clarissa.
“Neil,” Clarissa said in a much less acidic tone. “We’re here to help. If someone is making life difficult for you, then tell us about it.”
Neil dropped his gaze to the textbook in front of him. He tensed when he felt Liam’s hand slip into his, but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t want to break up with Liam, but he was afraid that staying with him would be even worse.
“What’s wrong, mate?” Liam asked quietly, gently.
Neil shook his head, not looking up. He was scared he wouldn’t be able to maintain his composure if he saw Liam’s concern.
“Neil…” Clarissa’s tone was one of exasperation. “Okay, if you won’t talk to us, then go spend some time with Liam for awhile. At least that way the trip won’t be a complete waste of time.”
Neil’s head jerked up, and he stared at first her, then his boyfriend. Liam stood up, still holding Neil’s hand. “Come on, mate. You’ve seen my bedroom. It’s about time I saw yours.”
Neil knew he was being weak, but it was easier to give in than to make a stand. He let Liam take him out into the hallway, and then he led the way to his room. Once inside, Liam kicked the door shut and pulled Neil into an embrace. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” Liam whispered before applying his lips to Neil’s.
* * *
Oliver leant against bedroom doorframe with his arms crossed. “You haven’t told them.”
Neil gulped. “What do you mean?” He rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed. He had been so self-absorbed with his problems that he hadn’t noticed Oliver arrive.
Oliver sighed. “Neil, did you really think that Paul and I wouldn’t realise that something was wrong? Hell, your friends from school have noticed, too, and made the trip out here just to check on you. We’re all worried, and that’s why we sent Todd in to speak to you last night.”
“He told you?”
“Not in any detail. He said there was nothing we could do, that it was up to you and your friends at school. All we could do was to be there to support you. That’s why I was so glad when Clarissa and Liam showed up today.” Oliver smiled. “Have you thought about asking Liam to stay the night one weekend? Todd won’t mind—well, as long as you change the sheets before he gets back from Lorraine’s place.”
“No! Liam and I…we’re not…we can’t…” Neil wasn’t sure where to stare, but he knew he couldn’t look Oliver in the eye.
Oliver chuckled. “Maybe I should suggest it to Liam and not you. I don’t think he’ll say no.”
Neil looked up. “Please don’t!”
Oliver cocked his head as he leant against the doorframe. “Sex doesn’t cure everything, but it does wonders for calming one’s worries.” He grinned. “Trust me, I’m an expert.”
Neil dropped his eyes. “I’m…I’m trying to make a decision…”
“When? How about this weekend? No need to put it off. Jump in the deep end and start swimming.”
“I’m trying to decide…if…if…I want to break up with him.”
There was a moment of silence. Neil flicked his gaze towards Oliver for a moment. His housemate was no longer leaning in the door. Instead, he stood there, mouth open.
“But you and he…in here…” Oliver shook his head and then frowned. “Liam certainly looked happy when he left. That wasn’t the sign of someone who had just been told his boyfriend wants to break up.”
“I haven’t told him.”
“Don’t you think you should?”
Neil grimaced. “I haven’t decided. I don’t want to, but…”
Oliver narrowed his eyes. “You don’t want to…but you’re thinking of it. Liam clearly doesn’t want to break up with you…so that means someone else is putting pressure on you. Who?” Oliver punched his left hand. “I want to know who I have to sort out.”
“Please…” Neil stood up. “I…” He raised his arms for a moment, as if in appeal, and then lowered them again.
Oliver glared for a moment and then smiled. “Okay, Neil. I’ll give you some time. But you shouldn’t let someone else run your life. That’s what parents and partners are for.” Oliver froze. “Is it your parents? I know that they’re not happy that you’re dating Liam.”
“Please, can you just drop it?”
Oliver sighed. “For now, Neil, but I’m not letting this go. Don’t let someone else make you give up on something good.”
Neil grimaced as the door was closed. He knew Oliver was right, but he also knew how much telling Liam about Doug and Rod would hurt him. He was still trying to work out if that would hurt more or less than Neil telling him it was over. Neil couldn’t avoid hurting Liam. All he could do was to minimise the trauma. His own pain wasn’t important.
* * *
Oliver slipped into his room and closed the door. He then sent a text message to Clarissa to confirm her guess that it was Neil’s parents causing the problem and that they were trying to get Neil to break up with Liam.
Once that was done, he cautiously slipped back into the hallway. After checking that Neil was still in his room, Oliver headed to the kitchen. It was time to prepare some food therapy. He would get complaints from Todd and Paul since it wouldn’t be good preparation for the upcoming football game against Collingwood, but something tasty and filling was always great when someone needed cheering up.
* * *
“Are you still coming down this weekend?” Deon asked as he lay on his bed.
“Definitely.” Sam chuckled. “We need to educate Marcus on how he needs to despise the Magpies and all things Collingwood.”
Deon swallowed as he finally had a lead-in to the conversation he really wanted to have. “Unless they draft me at the end of the year. Dad…I had an AFL agent approach me on Monday. He wants to sign me up. He’s not making any promises, but he thinks I’ve got a decent chance to get drafted.”
“That’s fantastic news!”
“Nothing’s happened yet,” Deon added quickly. “None of the clubs have approached me, but Alastair said it was just a question of time.”
“So you’ve signed with this agent…Alastair?”
“Not yet. I was hoping you and Mum would be able to meet him first. He said I don’t have to sign before the draft, but I’d like to make a decision before then. He’s told me he can make time this weekend if you’re free.”
“Of course, we can make time for him if that’s what you want.” Sam paused. “How do you feel about this?”
Deon gave the ceiling a wry smile. “Nervous. Excited. Worried sick that this is all some terrible mistake. I joined the Leopards to have a second chance at the AFL, but to have it actually happen…” He grimaced. “But it hasn’t happened yet, and it mightn’t. Ty’s a much better player than me, but he wasn’t drafted last year, and while I hope he will be this time, there’s no guarantees.”
“Life doesn’t come with guarantees, Deon. All you can do is grab the chances that arise. Is there anything you can do to improve the odds?”
Deon snorted. “Yeah: play even better. Julie’s started working on my endurance. She told me that it doesn’t matter how many goals I kick. If I can’t run and keep running, I won’t make it in the big league. She also said that the list of invitees to the draft combine is supposed to be released at the end of the month. That will tell me if there are teams interested.”
“What’s the draft combine? Sorry if that’s a stupid question, but I’ve never heard of it before.”
“If you haven’t been following the AFL closely, it’s not a stupid question. It’s the draft camp. The AFL’s started calling it a combine because that’s the term used in the USA. Basically, they invite potential draftees and run them through a lot of tests; both physical and psychological. The national camp goes for four days, but there’s also a smaller one-day camp in each state for those players who don’t make the national list.”
“What do you have to do to get an invite?”
“The AFL clubs have to nominate you. I think Julie said that you need at least two clubs to nominate you to make the list. I didn’t make it to the national camp last year, but I did the state-based one here in Victoria.” Deon grimaced. “I fucked it up. I was so nervous that I messed up the first couple of tests they did. That may be why no one picked me in the draft.”
“But from what you’re saying, you might have a second chance.”
“Alastair thinks so, and reading between the lines, I think my coaches do, too. But it’s been made clear to me that I have to keep my focus on the Leopards until the end of the season. After that, I don’t know…”
“Well good luck, and on the remote chance there’s anything I can do to help, please just ask.”
“If you could meet with Alastair and give me your opinion on him and his offer, I’d really appreciate it. I can’t tell if what he’s said is reasonable or just some sales bullshit.”
“Not a problem.” There was a short pause. “Do you mind if Marcus and I tell him that we’re a couple? His reaction might tell us something about what sort of person he is.”
“Go for it. I didn’t mention it to Alastair when I met him, but that’s a good idea. How about I see if he can meet you before the game on Saturday?”
“Okay. The game’s at Victoria Park, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, Collingwood’s home ground for their VFL team; that’s where their AFL team used to train.”
“Give him a call and tell him we can meet him somewhere in the vicinity any time after ten.”
Deon grinned. “Great! Thanks, Dad. I’ll see if Mum is also free so you can both meet him at the same time, but otherwise I’ll organise a different time for her.”
He chatted with his father for a little longer before ending the call. He desperately wanted his parents’ opinions about the agent; he was too nervous about the idea to be confident he could make a rational decision.
* * *
Liam glared at where Neil was having lunch with Mary and Evelyn. “How much fucking longer do I have to wait? If those bastards are interfering, why can’t I just go up to Neil and demand that he choose?” Liam scowled. “Don’t answer that. I know why.”
Clarissa crossed her arms. “I should certainly hope so. I’ve explained it enough times that I think even the village idiot would know it by now. Neil’s just starting to reach back to his parents. Even if they’re being bastards, they’re still his mum and dad. You’re getting time with him, even if it’s not as much as you’d like. Don’t push it.”
“I just said: 'don’t answer’.” Liam turned his scowl on Clarissa. “I’ve waited. I’ve waited all week. It’s now Friday, and I still don’t get to sit and have lunch with him.”
“He’s letting you walk with him to and from the train station. That’s better than at the start of the week.”
“That’s only because I threatened to move in with him if he didn’t.” Liam growled as he clenched his fists. He resumed staring across the schoolyard at his supposed boyfriend. “When did moving in with my boyfriend become a threat to get him to spend time with me?”
Clarissa snorted. “Get used to it. You turned your back on a normal life when you told me you’re gay.”
Liam grabbed her arm and squeezed hard. “Being gay is normal!” He glared for a moment and then let her go. He raised both hands to his head and grabbed his hair. “This is driving me fucking nuts!”
Clarissa rubbed her arm. She stared at Liam for a few seconds. “I can appreciate that, but remember I’m on your side. There’s no need to attack me.”
“Sorry.”
“And I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have implied that being gay meant you weren’t normal. It wasn’t what I was trying to say.” She sighed. “Okay, time to join Neil and see if I can get him to open up. We know the problem, but if he won’t talk about it, there’s not much we can do without revealing that Ollie’s been passing messages behind Neil’s back.”
Liam stiffened. “Maybe there is something we can do. I’d have to see if Doug will help, but even if he doesn’t, the two of us could probably get away with it.”
“With what?”
Liam drummed his fingers on his thigh. “We know where Neil’s parents live. What do you say to going around there after school and telling them to leave Neil alone?”
Clarissa blinked. “We could…but we’d have to make sure Neil’s father wasn’t there. Otherwise, you could end up with a black eye, or worse.”
“That’s why I want Doug with us, but even if he can’t make it, I’m still willing to risk it.”
Clarissa’s lips were pursed as she thought. She nodded. “Okay. You go see if Doug will help, and we’ll meet up after school.” She cocked her head. “What are you going to tell Neil?”
“Nothing. He’ll be heading into the city for his job, like he did yesterday, instead of heading home. I’ll just wish him all the best, and I’ll let him go.”
“I thought he was going to stay at your place before heading off?”
Liam scowled. “That was before his fucking parents got their claws into him. Now he goes straight from school and stays at the radio station until it’s time for him to start work. He says it’s easier to do his homework there.”
“Hold it, something’s not making sense. His parents don’t approve of you, but they’re not stopping him from working at a gay radio station?”
Liam shrugged. “Do they know where he’s working? Do they even know that he has a job? How the hell do I know? All I want is for them to leave us alone!”
* * *
Liam wiped his hands on his pants as he gave Clarissa and Doug a nervous glance. “Here we go.” He stepped forward, set his expression into one of determination, and rang the Rosewoods’ doorbell.
Mrs. Rosewood answered the door. “Yes?” She then stiffened. “Liam?” She glanced past him to the other two and then brought her attention back to him. “Neil’s not with you? Is he okay? Is something wrong?”
Her reaction put him off balance. “Neil’s fine, I think, but I was hoping you could help me.” He hardened his voice. “Have you been saying things to him?”
She appeared puzzled. “What sort of things? He rang me on Wednesday night, as he usually does…” She gathered herself together and smiled. “I’m sorry, I’m being rude. Would you like to come in?”
Liam hesitated for a moment and looked over his shoulder at Doug and Clarissa. Neither appeared happy, nor did they seem to object to the idea. Liam turned back to Neil’s mother, and even though he was sure she was behind Neil’s recent behaviour, he smiled. “Thank you.”
The three entered the house and Mrs. Rosewood waved them into the lounge room. “Would you like something to eat? I have a cake that I baked earlier today.”
“That’s okay; you don’t have to.” Liam didn’t want to blurt out his accusations, but he was struggling to work out how to raise them.
“It’s no problem.” She stepped up to the doorway to the kitchen and peered through. “Phil, Liam and a couple of Neil’s school friends are here.”
Liam stiffened and glanced at Doug and Clarissa. Doug, who had settled himself into one of the lounge-room chairs, immediately moved so he was perched on the edge instead. Clarissa also tensed up.
Mr. Rosewood entered the room. He smiled at Liam and stuck out a hand as he approached. “G’day, Liam. It’s good to see you again.”
The three all rose to their feet at the same time. Doug took a step forward, edging between Phil and Liam. Phil frowned and lowered his hand. His head dropped. “I suppose I deserve that.” He looked up. “I wasn’t going to hit you, Liam. You’re my boy’s partner. I wouldn’t do that to you or him.” He glanced at Doug and then gave him a nod of acknowledgement. “Thank you for looking out for Liam, but you didn’t need to.”
Doug’s eyes flicked to Liam before he replied. “Liam’s my best mate. I won’t let anyone hurt him if I can do something about it.”
Mr. Rosewood smiled, though it was weak and full of pain. “My name’s Phil. And you are…?”
“Doug.” There was a moment’s hesitation, and then he stuck out a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“And I’m Clarissa.” She cocked her head. “We expected you to be at work.”
Phil pulled a face while he shook Doug’s hand. “And that it would be safe to visit? Yeah, normally you’d be right…if I still had a job.” He stiffened and turned to Liam. “Please don’t tell Neil. He doesn’t need to know.”
Mrs. Rosewood returned at that time with a tray of biscuits, cakes, and slices. “Here you are. If you’re anything like Neil was when he came home from school, you’ll be hungry.” She put the tray down and then looked at Liam. She bit her lower lip. “He is okay, isn’t he?”
“Neil’s fine, though he’s been acting a little strange this week,” Clarissa said. “We were hoping you might know what was going on.”
Mary and Phil exchanged puzzled looks. “No,” Mary said, “He didn’t say anything to us when we spoke on the phone on Wednesday. What’s going on?”
Clarissa and Doug both glanced at Liam. He grimaced and then straightened his back. “It looks like someone is pressuring Neil to break up with me. We thought it might be you two.”
Mary put a hand to her mouth. She turned to her husband. “Phil?”
Mr. Rosewood scowled, making Doug take a half-step across so he was directly between Phil and Liam. Phil flinched. “I’m not angry with you, Liam. I’m angry that someone is doing that to my boy.” He caught Doug’s eye. “You don’t have to worry about me.” Phil dropped his head. “I’ve learnt my lesson.”
Mary looked distraught. “Please, can we all sit down? Would anyone like something to drink? I’ll put the kettle on.” She started wringing her hands as she turned to Clarissa. “Are you sure Neil’s okay?”
“He’s fine, but he’s started being distant again. We’re trying to work out why.” Clarissa smiled. “Why don’t I help you with the drinks?” She fixed her gaze on Liam and Doug. “The boys can stay here and chat with Neil’s dad.”
Shortly afterwards, Liam and Doug were sitting on the couch, while Phil sat opposite them. Mr. Rosewood wouldn’t meet the boys’ eyes.
“You mentioned you’re out of work,” Liam said, not sure what to talk about.
Phil grimaced. “Yeah…” He looked up. “Too many people saw that stupid TV show. My boss was getting phone calls from the customers saying they didn’t want me there ever again. A couple went so far as to refuse me entry to their house to even start the work they wanted.” He sighed. “He kept me on for as long as he could, hoping things would blow over, but he was starting to lose business. He had to let me go.”
“What do you do, Mr. Rosewood?” Doug asked.
“Call me Phil. I am—or was—a plumber.” Phil grimaced as he glanced around the room. “At least this place is almost paid off. If we have to sell it, we might make enough to move away and get something smaller.” He pulled a face. “But that fucking program was on national TV. We can’t move to get away from it!”
“You said you don’t want Neil to know.” Liam was trying to understand what was going on. Neil’s father seemed remorseful, but Liam still wasn’t sure if they were behind Neil’s actions.
“I don’t want him to think this is in any way his fault. I’m to blame. I did this, no one else.” Phil Rosewood caught Liam’s eye. “I can’t be there for him anymore. Please, Liam, look after my boy. He needs you.”
* * *
Liam kicked a stone off the footpath as he, Doug, and Clarissa strolled home. “What do you think?”
“It’s not them.” Clarissa’s tone made it clear she had no doubts.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.” Liam looked at Doug. “What about you?”
“His dad seems on the level. His mother’s a little crazy.” Doug shrugged. “Neil seems to take after his mum.”
“She’s worried.” Clarissa pulled a face. “She opened up to me while we were in the kitchen. She can’t handle him being gay, but she misses him more.” She looked at Liam. “I didn’t see any signs of homophobia when she spoke to you, though.”
“I did, but I knew what to look for.” When both Doug and Clarissa stared at him, Liam shrugged. “As long as the subject of boyfriends wasn’t raised, she treated me as if I was one of Neil’s friends. As soon as I mentioned someone was putting pressure on Neil to break up with me, she couldn’t look me in the eye or speak directly to me.”
“If it’s not them, then who?” Doug scowled. “While I’d be over the moon if you broke up with him, Liam, that should be your choice. I’m not having some anonymous third party interfering. Unless you do something about it soon, I’m going to have a word with your boyfriend and find out what’s going on.”
“You hurt Neil, and you’ll get a kick in the balls.” Clarissa glared. “I’ll even borrow my dad’s steel-capped boots for the occasion.”
Doug scowled back. “Back off, bitch. I won’t hurt him. I’ll just make him tell us what’s going on.”
“Enough!” Liam waited until he had their attention. “No one is getting kicked in the balls, at least not yet. Clarissa, we’ve been taking Ollie’s word for it that someone is pushing Neil. Could he be mistaken?”
Clarissa shrugged. “I suppose so, but then we’ll be back to square one. Why is Neil acting like he is?”
“Because he’s a loser.” Doug immediately took a step away from the two people glaring at him. “But I don’t think that’s all his fault.”
Clarissa raised an eyebrow. “Really? And whose fault do you think it might be?” She gave him a hard stare.
“His parents, of course. His dad’s okay, but his mum’s wacko. He probably spent too much time with her.”
“That doesn’t follow. Liam spends too much time with you, but that doesn’t make him a loser.”
Doug smirked. “No, it makes him a winner.”
“Doug’s right.” Liam’s comment had the other two end their verbal jousting. “I need to talk to Neil and make him tell me what’s going on. I’ll give him a bit more time, but if he hasn’t come clean by the end of next week, I need to force the issue.”
“That’s just before your birthday weekend. Are you sure that’s a good time?” Clarissa asked.
Liam pulled a face. “I don’t know. I don’t fucking know, but we can’t keep going on like this.”
* * *
Sam, Marcus, and Mandy strolled north along Lulie Street towards Victoria Park and the upcoming match between the Collingwood Magpies and the Lilydale Leopards. All three were wearing warm jackets as the air was still cool. They had left the Johnston Street coffee shop, where they had met Alastair McCrae, a few minutes earlier.
“You were quiet, Marcus,” Mandy said. “What did you think of Alastair?”
Marcus shrugged. “He certainly came over as a pleasant guy. I hope for Deon’s sake that that’s his real personality.”
“You think Deon should sign with him?”
“Not my call.” Marcus smiled. “I didn’t sense anything untoward about him, which was the main thing I was watching for. His comment about one of the key roles for an agent, especially for a young player, was to be a confidant—someone in Deon’s corner—rang true. If that’s right, then Deon needs someone he’s comfortable with. It’s not up to me—or any of us—to make that decision for him. I didn’t see anything that made me distrust the guy, apart from the concern as to whether his personality was just for show.”
“What about you, Mandy?” Sam asked. “Any concerns?”
“No…” She frowned. “I didn’t say anything at the time, but did you really need to introduce Marcus as your life partner? Deon may not want it known publicly that his father’s gay.”
“He said it was okay. I wasn’t going to say anything without his permission. Not on something as important as this. Deon said I could do it to see what sort of reaction it drew.”
Mandy snorted. “I think he handled it pretty well. A bit of surprise, and then he moved on quickly.”
Sam glanced at Marcus. “Did he move on too quickly?”
“I don’t think so. Deon was the topic of conversation, not us.” Marcus looked thoughtful. “I was more interested in his reaction to the fact that we live in Sydney. He saw that as a positive, at least as far as the two Sydney-based teams were concerned. If, as he said, he passes that on to the Sydney Swans and Greater Western Sydney, then I can’t see anything bad about that.”
“You don’t think he was doing the equivalent of name dropping to make it sound like he had more influence than he really does?” Mandy asked.
“I thought he made it pretty clear that it wouldn’t make a big difference,” Marcus said. “It was more that the clubs outside of Victoria sometimes struggle to hold onto the draftees that come from interstate. Having family in Sydney makes Deon slightly more attractive, because it means there’s a better chance he’ll stay after his initial contract is up.”
“Assuming he gets that far. He told me on the phone that it’s still a long shot getting drafted in the first place.” Sam grimaced. “I’m not sure what we’ll be able to tell him after the game. Go with McCrae or not?”
Mandy smiled. “I agree with Marcus. I saw and heard nothing that bothered me, so if Deon is happy with him, then it’s up to him to decide. It’s probably a good idea to see who else steps forward, but I don’t have a problem if Deon signs with Alastair.”
“Okay.” Sam looked up as the black-and-white stripes that decorated the top of the closest Victoria Park grandstand came into view. “This brings back memories. My dad used to take me to as many Essendon games as he could.” He sighed and then smiled at Marcus. “The last time I was here must be almost thirty years ago, back in the days when the only interstate team was Sydney, and most people still thought of them as South Melbourne as they’d only relocated a few years earlier. I still remember it. The atmosphere, with all the parochial Collingwood fans, was amazing.” Sam grinned. “It was even better because Essendon won that game. I can’t remember much else, but I remember that.”
Mandy chuckled. “I can’t remember ever coming here, but I recall how you tried to do the same with our kids. Every two or three weeks, we’d drag the kids to wherever Essendon was playing in Melbourne. We only stopped when it got too expensive and the kids started having other activities on the weekend. Deon must’ve been around four or five…”
“It was before Jordan was born.” Sam cocked his head. “Did you ever take him to an AFL game?”
“No. But I know he’s been to one.” Mandy grinned. “He couldn’t shut up about it when he came home the other week. You two took him to the game at the Sydney Olympic site. He loved the football, but he loved wandering around looking at the old Olympic venues, too.”
Marcus snorted. “Wandering? Try moving at full speed from place to place while we tried desperately to keep up.”
Mandy smirked. “I warned you. Anyway, it was your own fault. You’re the one who gave him that Path of Champions clue sheet. He brought it home with all the answers filled in. He said he finished it before either of you did.”
“Because he was always that much ahead of us.” Marcus smiled. “What time is Teresa bringing him here?”
Mandy checked her watch. “In about twenty minutes.” She smiled. “Let’s go in and I’ll buy you both a drink. That way you’ll be prepared for when he arrives. He wants to know when he can come up and stay with you guys again.”
She chuckled when both guys groaned.
* * *
Ty ground his teeth into his mouthguard. He had just made his third mistake of the game, though this one was minor. Jarrod has been free in the middle of the ground, but Ty had kicked the ball to Jim instead. Jim’s opponent had spoilt the attempted mark, but Jim had managed to get the ball away. The net result was that the Leopards were still in attack, but with more effort than was otherwise needed.
It was better than the first two mistakes he’d made in defence, both of which had resulted in a turnover to Collingwood and two goals that the Leopards couldn’t afford to give away. It was a tight match, with Collingwood maintaining their early lead despite the best efforts of the Leopards.
As he watched the Leopards making repeated attempts to penetrate the Collingwood defence while also keeping an eye on what his opponent was doing, Neil ran up to him with a drink bottle.
“Thanks, mate.” Ty took a large gulp of water and then handed the bottle back.
“Peter wants you up on the forward line. Deon’s being stifled by the Magpie defenders and he wants another attacking option.”
“Gotcha. Who’s taking my place?”
“Dad, for now, but Peter said that’s only temporary. He’ll do something else for the second half.”
Ty nodded once and then jogged forward. He glanced at the scoreboard and clock. There were still six minutes until half-time. Ty hoped that the change of scene at the other end of the ground would help settle him and dispel his first-game-back nerves.
* * *
Ty joined in the mobbing of Deon when he kicked a goal to bring the Leopards to within two points of Collingwood. It was late in the final quarter, but after clawing back the deficit from early in the game, the Leopards were one straight kick away from a hard-fought victory.
An extra reason for the celebration was that it was only Deon’s second goal for the match. The Collingwood defenders had applied a lot of pressure to him, and while he had battled hard, goals had been hard to find. Instead of Deon being the dominant scorer for the Leopards, a number of other players, including Ty, had shared the goals, though none had managed more than two.
“Okay, guys, back to your positions. We haven’t won this yet.” Jim, the acting captain for the day, caught Ty’s eye. “The momentum’s in our favour, so we can expect the Magpies to try to slow things down. Don’t let them!”
Ty nodded before giving Deon one last thump on the back. “One more, Deon. That’s all we need. One more.”
“We can do this!” Oliver called out as he returned to his position.
Ty glanced at his tagger. While the Collingwood player outwardly seemed to be fine, Ty sensed that he was beginning to run out of energy. With that in mind, Ty jogged up towards the midfield, dragging his tagger with him, and then doubled back to run past Deon. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled as he saw Jarrod dash in to pick up the loose ball after neither team’s ruckman managed to get a clean hitout.
Jarrod snapped a quick kick to Dave who simply bowled through his opponent on his way towards the forward line. Ty led his tagger on another chase as he ducked back towards the middle, trying to either create a lead for Dave or to drag someone else’s opponent away to try to stop him.
Dave’s kick found Oliver who immediately played on. Everyone knew there wasn’t a lot of time left to pull off a victory. Not finding anyone free, Oliver kicked the ball across the ground to where Jim had broken free.
Ty knew what was coming next. With a quick change of direction and a sudden burst of speed, he ran to the boundary line on the same side of the oval as Jim. Jim’s kick found Ty about sixty metres out at the edge of the playing ground. Ty spun around, looking for Deon, when the final siren went off.
Ty made sure he didn’t move. He didn’t want to give the umpires any excuse to say he had played on. The game was over, but there was one chance for victory left. Ty would have the last kick of the match, and if he scored a goal the Leopards would win by four points.
Jim jogged over. “Take your time, brat, and give it your best try. That’s all we can ask.”
Deon joined them as Ty flipped the football in his hands a few times while staring at the difficult target in front of him. The angle didn’t leave with him a lot of room for error, and the distance meant he would have to kick hard—something that typically reduced accuracy.
“Try a torpedo punt, brat,” Deon said. “That’s what Roger told me to do in the practise match at the start of the season.”
Ty was going to respond when he saw the umpire frowning. He didn’t have unlimited time, and he couldn’t afford to waste it with a quick discussion on options. Instead he followed Deon’s suggestion and gripped the football in the traditional hold for a torpedo punt: left hand forward, right hand back, and the ball on a slight angle. It was something in his repertoire, but not a kick he used a lot.
Pushing his anxieties aside, he lined himself up. He walked the first three steps and then started to accelerate. He dropped the ball, using his right hand to guide it down to where he was swinging his foot. The two connected and the football started spinning around its long axis as it flew towards the goal posts while Ty’s follow-through had his boot almost reaching shoulder height.
The kick felt good to Ty, but that didn’t stop his sense of anxiety as the ball started to veer to the side. “Come on. Come on…NO!”
The football had made the distance, but it had hit the left-hand goal post. Ty stared in disbelief as the goal umpire signalled a behind: one point.
The Leopards had lost, and Ty knew that that would make the end of the season that much more difficult for the team.
* * *
The bus trip back to Lilydale wasn’t that long, but it felt like an eternity to Ty. While he appreciated the supportive words from his teammates about how difficult that last kick was, he knew that it was the earlier mistakes that had made the difference. Collingwood had scored two goals from those mistakes, and that was more than the final difference between the teams.
“Okay, that’s enough.” The kick to his calf that accompanied the words had Ty lifting his head. Peter was glaring down at him. “Move over, I need to talk to you.”
Ty shifted the bag he’d used to ensure no one sat next to him and then shuffled over towards the window. Peter dropped into the aisle seat and then twisted so he was facing Ty. “You’re sulking time is over. I now need my vice-captain back and focused on the rest of the season.”
Ty turned to look out the window, though he didn’t really focus on the other traffic heading outbound from the city on the Eastern freeway. “I lost that game for us. If I hadn’t fucked up, we could’ve won it.”
“Could’ve…should’ve…who fucking cares. We didn’t get the result we wanted. So what? There’s only one game that matters, and that’s the grand final. We need to get there—and I still think we can—and then we need to win it. That will take everyone, and if we fail it’ll be because of everyone, not one person.” Peter paused for a moment before continuing in a less angry tone. “I told you on Monday that you might be rusty and to just play through it. Yes, you were rusty and made some stupid mistakes at the start of the game, but you did what I asked: you played through them. I didn’t see any mistakes after halftime. That’s what I wanted, brat, and that’s what you delivered.”
Ty turned back to face his coach. “But those early mistakes resulted in turnovers and Collingwood kicking goals. If I hadn’t fucked up, they wouldn’t’ve been so far in front.”
Peter smiled. “I’m sure you’ve reviewed those mistakes a million times in your head since the end of the game, and that’s fine. You know what you did wrong, and you know what you have to do to make sure you don’t screw up again. But it’s now time to stop that review and focus on our next match.”
Ty nodded slowly as he tried to take in Peter’s instruction. “North Ballarat.”
“That’s right. We’ve got our last bye for the season next weekend and then a three-hour bus trip to Ballarat the following Saturday. That’s where we start building our momentum for the finals. Four games left in the season, and I want four wins. Get your mind focused on getting ready for those finals, brat, not on the game that’s just finished.”
Ty grimaced and then nodded. “Okay, Peter. Time to move on. Time to concentrate on the next game.”
When Peter stood up, Ty shuffled over and joined him in the aisle. He smiled at Peter’s reaction. Peter had given him a job to do. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Ty was going to do it.
“Four games to go, Peter.” Ty raised his voice so everyone in the bus could hear him. “Four games left to show the rest of the teams that the Leopards are ready to fight. Roger’s back for the next one, and we’ll be at full strength again. Four more games to prepare ourselves, and then we claw our way through those losers on our way to the grand final. Four more games to show the rest of the competition that they can’t take the Leopards lightly. Four more games…right?” He scanned his teammates, most of which seemed still despondent after the loss. “Right?”
Roger smiled. “Four more games.”
Todd and Jim repeated it next. “Four more games.”
By the time Ty had finished working his way along the aisle, everyone in the team was chanting the mantra. Ty stopped at the front of the bus and stared down at his coaches. He made them a promise.
“Four more games, and then the claws come out.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE: A transcript of the interview between Sir Michael Parkinson and Ian Thorpe is available online, as is the video on YouTube.
Copyright © June 2015 by Graeme.
The author copyrights this story and retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form—physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise—without the author's expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws apply.
Disclaimer: Some public figures have been included in this story for effect. This is fiction, and the words and actions of those characters are mine and not those of the real person. All other individuals depicted are fictional, and any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental.
I would like to thank trebs, C James and MikeL for the advice they gave on early versions and rec for editing this story for me. A special thank you to ricky for that crucial final review before publication.