Ty’s father was working when his phone rang on Monday morning. As he was expecting a call from a customer, he answered it without checking the caller ID. “Robert Flanders.”
“Er…hi, Robert. Is Ty there?”
Mr. Flanders paused while he realigned his thoughts from work to his recalcitrant son. “Who is this?”
“Isaac Long from the Hawthorn Football Club. I heard about Ty’s injury, and I wanted to check how he’s doing.”
“He’s doing as well as can be expected.” Mr. Flanders decided to keep his replies short. He didn’t know what had happened to Ty, but he didn’t want to give away that fact.
“He must be disappointed. Do you know exactly what’s wrong? The only information I have is it’s something to do with his knee. It’s not his anterior cruciate, I hope.”
“We don’t know yet. Sorry.” Mr. Flanders felt vindicated by his son’s misfortune.
“Would you like one of our club doctors to examine him? They’re specialists when it comes to sporting injuries and will be able to suggest the best treatment and rehabilitation program so he’s back playing again as soon as possible.”
“No, no. There’s no need for that. We’re going to have his local doctor take a look. To be honest, Ty’s been wondering if he really wants to keep playing top-class football, and this might make him decide to do something else with his life, instead.”
“Well, I’m sorry if that happens. He’s got a rare talent, and it would be a shame to waste it.”
Mr. Flanders let out an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, I know. But his mind hasn’t been focused on his football for some time now. He seems to think other things are more important. I’ve tried to persuade him otherwise, but he’s stopped listening to me.”
“That’s too bad. Anyway, please let him know that I rang. All the best to the Leopards for the rest of the finals!”
A minute later, Robert Flanders was leaning back in his chair, a self-satisfied smile on his face. That phone conversation had been a pleasant way to start the working week.
* * *
Patrick O’Malley was reviewing the footage from one of the junior finals that had been played the previous Saturday when Shane poked his head into the office. “Have you got a few minutes, Paddy?”
“Sure!” Patrick nodded towards the spare chair. “Take a seat.”
Shane closed the door as he entered, immediately drawing Patrick’s full attention in the process. He waited patiently for Shane to sit down and tell him what had triggered the impromptu discussion.
“Flanders from the Leopards was injured in their VFL finals match yesterday. We don’t know how badly, but it was his knee. We can’t ask directly without tipping our hand, but if he’s done his ACL, taking him now may not be in the best interests of the club.” Shane grimaced. “I never like picking someone with a serious injury, even if a full recovery is possible. It becomes too much of a risky investment.”
“I know, but what’s this got to do with me?” Patrick was all too well aware that a major injury, such as a tear of the anterior cruciate ligament, would justify Shane backing down on his promise to draft Ty.
“Is there any way you can think of to get access to Flanders’ medical records? We need to know what’s going on as soon as possible. If it’s not his ACL, we may want to quietly give him some specialised help to ensure a full recovery so he’ll be ready for the pre-season in December.” Shane pulled a face. “But even that’s risky, because people will talk, and we don’t want to lose our chance to draft him by alerting another team of our interest.”
Patrick leant back in his chair as his mind raced through various possibilities. “Let’s start simple. I’ll give him a call and see what I can find out. He’ll probably tell me what’s wrong, assuming he knows. After that, we can work out if you still need our doctors to get hold of his records.”
“It’s a plan.” Shane nodded to Patrick’s phone. “Can you call him now, or would it be better to wait?”
“He’s normally at work on Mondays. Lunchtime would be best.”
Shane snorted. “He’s injured. He’ll be off sick. Given the fact that the Leopards are now in the preliminary final, I suspect he’s either resting at home or hanging around at his football club.”
Patrick was embarrassed for not realising that himself. “Okay, I’ll call him now.” A minute later, he had his phone on speaker and was talking to Ty.
“…dislocated kneecap.” Ty’s disappointment came through clearly. “That’s the season for me. I so much wanted to play through to the end because I think we can win the premiership, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Patrick raised an eyebrow at Shane and received a thumbs-up in response. “Okay, brat. I’m sorry to hear about your injury, but all the best to your teammates for the rest of the finals.” Patrick leant forward towards the phone. “Just between you and me, since my Northern Blues didn’t make the finals, I hope the Leopards win. I really appreciate how friendly everyone was when I was out there a few months ago.”
“It’s a great club, with the absolute best bunch of people. I’m going to miss some of them when they move on next year.”
Patrick didn’t need to see Shane’s quizzical look to know he needed to ask for more information. “Move on? What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m hoping you guys will draft Dad, and it looks like Deon’s a good chance to get drafted, too. There’s been some interest in one of the other guys, as well, so there’s an outside chance he’ll leave. If we don’t win this season, we’ll do our best next year, but it’ll probably be without some key players.”
Patrick chuckled as Shane grinned with relief. “Well, as I said, all the best to everyone there for the rest of the finals series.”
After a couple of minutes of pleasantries, Patrick hung up and stared pointedly at Shane.
Shane smiled back as he rose to his feet. “It sounds like it’s nothing serious, but if you can think of a way to get our doctors to access his records or to get a look at him themselves, I’d appreciate it. I’d prefer to go into the draft knowing exactly where he stands medically.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“That’s all I can ask. Let me know if you come up with something. Otherwise, I’ll have to find another way to get the information. At least, there’s no longer any rush.” Shane opened the office door. “Thanks, Paddy. I really appreciate this.”
Patrick spent the next few minutes in thought and doing some quick research on his computer. There was something familiar about the situation that was nagging at him. Normally, he would ask his assistant Christopher to track down the details, but Patrick wanted to do this one himself. It was only once he had found what he was looking for that he called his assistant.
“Sir?” Christopher asked in response to the summons.
“Can you please book me a taxi? I need to go out, probably for the rest of the day. If anyone asks, I’m doing something for Shane.”
Christopher was clearly puzzled, but as Patrick expected, he didn’t ask any question. While he waited, Patrick printed off a couple of articles. He thought they might be useful.
* * *
Anne Flintlock was reviewing the Leopards budget forecast for the rest of the year when her phone rang. “Yes?”
“Anne, I’ve got a Patrick O’Malley here in reception for you,” Glenda said. “He says it’s urgent, and he needs to speak to both you and Peter, but you first.”
Anne frowned. “What’s it about? And who is he? I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“He said it’s about the brat—he used that nickname—and that you met him once back in July when Ty was suspended. He said to ask if you remember the old man that the brat hosted at the game against the Northern Blues.”
Anne’s memory of that match was vague, but she recalled enough to accept that the visitor could be legitimate. “Okay, can you get someone to bring him here? I can give him a bit of my time, but I need to get these forecasts finished soon.”
“Okay, Anne. I’ll escort him myself.”
Anne was beginning to wonder what was keeping Glenda when a skeletal old man shuffled his way into her office followed immediately by the front-office manager. As soon as she saw him, she remembered Patrick from the previous time he had visited Lilydale. She stood up as he entered. “Mr. O’Malley, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”
Patrick waved a hand to indicate she should sit back down. “Please, call me Paddy.” He let Glenda help him into a spare chair and then smiled up at her. “Thank you, dear. These old bones really appreciate your help.”
“Would you like me to get you something to drink?” Glenda asked. She looked past Patrick at Anne, clearly including her in the invitation.
“A cup of black tea would go down wonderfully if it’s not too much trouble.”
Anne smiled. “I’ll have a white tea, Glenda.”
“I’ll be back shortly.” Glenda left, closing the office door on her way out.
“How can I help you, Paddy?” Anne asked once they were alone.
“I heard about young Flanders’ injury, and I wanted to know if you’re willing to gamble.” Patrick gave her an enigmatic smile.
“Gamble on what? Ty’s out for the rest of the finals. Do you mean bringing in someone new from the Northern Blues? I’m not sure that’s permitted under VFL regulations.”
Patrick pulled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and pushed it across the desk. “If you’re willing to gamble, young Flanders may still have one more game in him this season.”
Anne glanced at what appeared to be an old newspaper article about an AFL grand final. “What’s this about?”
“In the 2011 AFL preliminary final, Geelong’s Steve Johnson dislocated his kneecap, just like Ty has done. Johnson fronted up the next week to play in the grand final and played well.” Patrick leant back and raised an eyebrow. “I doubt your young man will be ready to play in the preliminary final on the weekend since he can probably only do this once and not two weeks in a row, but if you believe that the team can defeat the Box Hill Hawks without him and you’re willing to spend the money required, there’s a chance that Ty will be able to play in the grand final.”
Anne’s jaw dropped. She had trouble reading the newspaper article as her eyes kept darting from the paper to the old man who seemed to be offering a miracle. “What do we have to do?”
Patrick grinned. “The first step is to get young Flanders checked out to see if there’s a chance that this will work. From what I’ve read, we need to get a scan done to ensure he’s not damaged any of the ligaments in his knee. I can pull a few strings and get one of our club doctors to check him out. For this, I think it’s best if we had a sports professional involved.”
Anne nodded slowly. “Then what?”
“Assuming the doctor gives the go ahead, we start his treatment. Based on what Geelong did for Steve Johnson, Ty will be spending part of each day in a hyperbaric chamber from now to whenever the doctors say he can stop. The elevated oxygen levels will increase the rate at which the swelling will go down. If we can get the swelling reduced in time, then the next step is to use painkillers injected directly into his knee. That will allow him to play, though once the painkillers wear off he’ll probably be back on crutches for awhile.” Patrick winked. “Somehow, if it results in a premiership like it did for Geelong in 2011, I don’t think he’ll care.”
Anne laughed. “No, I don’t think he will.” She frowned as she forced the hope that Patrick was raising to the back of her mind. “What’s this going to cost?”
“I’m willing to call in some favours, so the doctor visit will be free, but someone will need to pay for the medical treatment. I don’t expect young Flanders will be able to afford it, so it’ll be up the club to pay. It won’t be cheap, but I think it’ll be worth it.” Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Are you willing to gamble? If you are, we need to move fast. Every day we wait is one less day of accelerated recovery for Ty. The real costs won’t come into play until after the doctor’s assessment, and he’ll be able to tell you then what they’ll be. That’s the point when you’ll need to make a quick decision, hopefully later today.”
Anne was willing, and she was sure she could get the club’s president to agree if the cost wasn’t exorbitant, but there were still matters she wanted clarified. “You wanted to speak to Peter as well as me. Why?”
Patrick shrugged. “I asked for you and the coach. He needs to know what’s being proposed and to give his judgement as to whether the team can reach the grand final without Ty. If you can’t, there’s no point in continuing.” He smiled. “But I think they can do it, especially if they know Ty is on his way back. That may be just enough incentive to push them through to the end.”
Anne nodded once. She picked up her phone. “Peter, can you please join me in my office? Something’s come up that you need to know about. If you spot the brat hanging around, bring him, too. Drop whatever you’re doing; this is more important.”
* * *
Patrick was sitting in the waiting room at the doctor’s surgery when his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and winced. “Hi, Shane. Can you hold on a few minutes?” Not waiting for a reply, he turned to Peter, who was sitting nearby. “I need to take this call. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Sure, Paddy.” Peter smiled. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.”
“Nothing’s happened yet. We’re still waiting to see what the doctor says.” Patrick leveraged himself out of the seat and then shuffled his way to the glass doors that slid open as he approached. As soon as he was on the other side and out of earshot of Peter, he put the phone back to his ear. “Still there, Shane?”
“Yes, and I’d like to know what the hell do you think you’re doing!”
“What you asked.” Patrick didn’t let Shane’s angry tone faze him. “I’ve talked them into bringing Flanders in for an examination by one of our doctors. To keep things quiet, we’re doing it outside of the club at a private clinic. We should have the results soon.”
“He’s injured and you want to risk making it worse by trying to get him to play?”
“Calm down. Young Flanders is only going to be treated if the doctor says it’s viable. If it isn’t, we’ll have his medical details, and that’s the end of the story. But if the doctor says he’s basically fine apart from the swollen knee, then the Leopards are going to try to get him ready for the VFL grand final. Ty’s already given permission to allow the doctor to share the medical details with others—even if he thinks that’ll be with other doctors—so we’re going to get the information you wanted, regardless of the outcome.”
“At what cost? If he hurts himself even more by playing before he’s recovered, it’ll be a waste of time for us to draft him!”
“Now, now, Shane. Don’t blow a gasket. He could get hurt playing in any game. The Leopards aren’t going to take a risk if he’s not fit to play. All they’re doing is what any AFL club would do in the same situation. Indeed, we’re about to see if the young boy has the grit and determination needed to be a top AFL player. If the doctor clears him, and if he gets through this successfully, then you’ll have solid evidence as to how far he’s willing to go for the club.”
“I’m not going to draft him if he’s got a chronic condition. Especially if it’s one due to doing something stupid like playing when he’s not fit!”
Patrick smiled as he looked through the glass doors and saw Ty hobble into the reception area on his crutches. “Well, let’s wait and see what happens. The doctor’s finished with him, so it won’t be long. I’ll call you back as soon as we know.” He hung up, not waiting to see if Shane had anything else to say.
Returning to the waiting room, Patrick smiled at Ty. “Well?”
“I was just telling Peter that I need to get an MRI scan. The doc thinks the ligaments are okay, but he wants them checked. He’s given me the names and addresses for a handful of places, so hopefully one of them can get me in at short notice. Once I’ve had the scan, he wants me back here so he can check the results and plan the next steps.”
“Well then, boy, what are you waiting for?” Patrick waved his hand towards the exit. “Let’s get going.”
“Are you coming, too?” Ty glanced at Peter for a moment. “I thought you’d want to get back to Visy Park. I suggested Peter ring for a taxi.”
“And not find out how this story ends? Never!” Patrick grinned. “As long as you don’t mind an old man hanging around with you.” He smirked. “Of course, I think I might be faster than you at the moment, so I can understand if you don’t want to be shown up.”
Ty laughed. “Thanks, Mr. O’Malley, but I’m going to hold off running any races until the doc says it’s okay. After that, though, you’re on!” He turned to Peter. “Do you want to ring the radiology places to see who can fit us in?”
“I’ll get onto it now.” Peter waved a hand at a nearby chair. “Take a seat until we know where we have to go.”
* * *
Anne was in the boardroom with Eric and Colin when Peter rang with the news that the MRI scan showed no damage to the ligaments in Ty’s knee.
“Okay, Peter. I need to discuss this with Eric before we approve the next step, but I promise we’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
“Don’t take too long, Anne. The doctor has checked up, and he can get the brat into a hyperbaric chamber today if we move fast. There’s a new one that’s just been installed at the Ringwood East Private Hospital, so it’s relatively close, too. But we have to confirm as soon as possible.”
“We’ll be as quick as we can.” After Peter had hung up, Anne turned to the other two senior staff members. “It’s on. All we need to do is authorise the expenses, and Ty will start treatment.”
“How much?” Eric, the club president, asked. “Our finances are still tight despite a successful year.”
“We can afford it. Peter said it would be around $10-15,000.” Anne shrugged. “That’s only an estimate, but it’s in the range that I had calculated based on medical treatments the club has paid for in the past.”
“The board will have our necks if we spend all that money and have nothing to show for it. I’m guessing our health insurer won’t cover this?” When Anne confirmed that they wouldn’t, Eric grimaced. “I really want to try, but we have to be fiscally responsible, too. We’re back on track, and we don’t want to blow the budget on a wild gamble.”
Colin looked thoughtful. “We may be able to mitigate some of the costs. Tony and I will need to be careful about how we approach them, but there are some supporters that we might be able to ask for a one-off donation.” When Eric frowned, Colin smiled. “Jarrod’s sponsors, Matt and Gary, for one. When they first stepped up to help the club with a donation, they said that they might be able to do more later if we needed it. They didn’t promise, but because we haven’t approached them since, they may be willing to contribute.”
Anne nodded. “They’re certainly keen supporters. They’ve been to most of our matches as far as I can recall. I can only think of a handful where I didn’t see them.”
“This is still a significant risk.” Eric grimaced as he looked at the boardroom table. “We have to win this weekend first, or otherwise we’ll be paying out a lot of money and not seeing anything for it.”
Colin frowned. “Anne, did Peter indicate how long the hyperbaric treatment was going to be for?”
“From as soon as we start and then daily for as long as possible. Probably to at least Wednesday next week.”
“If we don’t make the grand final, is there any reason we can’t stop the treatment? That will mean we’re only really committing to pay up until Sunday. After that, it will depend on the result of the preliminary final.” Colin turned to Eric. “What do you think?”
The club president nodded slowly. “That will mean the money we’re risking is only around half of what Anne said.”
“More like two thirds, depending on when the treatment stops, but I agree.” Anne raised an eyebrow at Eric. “Do we proceed?”
Eric pulled a face as he looked at first Anne and then Colin. He stood up and walked over to the window overlooking the football oval.
Anne and Colin waited while Eric stared down at where the Leopards had won so many of their games that season. Beneath the table, Anne crossed her fingers. It had been fifteen years since the Leopards had last won a premiership. Anne thought the money was worth it for the chance to win another, but the final decision would be up to the club president.
Eric turned and faced them, his expression resolute. “Let’s do it.”
* * *
Peter cast his gaze over the assembled players. Monday-night training was about to commence. “Some of you guys have been hearing rumours, so to set the story straight, I’m going to tell you what’s going on.”
He paused to make sure everyone was paying attention. “With the help of a benefactor who wants to remain anonymous, the brat has started some aggressive rehabilitation. We are quietly confident that he’ll be ready to play again in time for the grand final.”
The players started talking to each other in tones of general excitement until Zach raised his voice. “What about this Sunday? Any chance he’ll be fit by then? We need him.”
Peter shook his head. “He might be, but he’s only going to be able to get ready for one match. It’s either the preliminary or grand final, not both. We’re aiming for the grand final.” Peter narrowed his eyes. “That means you guys are going to have to get us there by beating the Hawks without him. We,” he waved a hand to indicate himself, Julie, and Will, “believe you can do it. If the brat was here, he’d be telling you the same.”
“We can do this!” Roger called out. The other players quickly shouted their agreement.
Peter smiled. “Then let’s get to work. Tonight we’ll concentrate on recovery, the same as last week. Remember, guys, the brat is depending on you to get us through to the grand final. Let’s not disappoint him.”
Will stepped up next to him while Julie started the players on an easy warm-up lap. “Where’s the brat? I half-expected him to be here.”
“At home resting with an ice pack strapped to his knee,” Peter said as he kept a careful eye on his players for any signs of stiffness or soreness. He didn’t want any more players on the injured list.
“Alone?”
“No. Karen’s with him.”
Will smirked. “Are you sure he’s resting?”
Peter laughed. “If this was Ollie we were talking about, you’d probably be right to be concerned, but I spent most of the day with the brat. He’s focused on getting ready to play again, because there’s nothing he wants more than to be part of the Leopard team that wins the premiership. He won’t jeopardise his recovery, no matter what the temptation.”
“Who’s the anonymous benefactor that organised all this special treatment?”
Peter hesitated. “He didn’t want anyone to know. I can guess his reasons for that, so he’ll remain nameless for now. Sorry, Will.”
Peter didn’t mention his own suspicions. The old man from the Carlton Football Club seemed very eager to help. To Peter, it was almost as if they wanted to test Ty, to see what he was capable of doing.
* * *
Jim grinned as he dropped his sports bag next to the couch. “How’s the invalid?”
Ty looked up from where he was lying. His right leg was stretched horizontal with a bulky wrapping around the knee that Jim suspected contained a cold pack. “Been better.”
Karen chuckled. She was sitting in the seat next to the couch, a hand resting on Ty’s shoulder. “He’s fine, apart from complaining all the time.”
Ty gave her a mock scowl. “She’s taken the TV remote and won’t let me choose what we’re watching.”
Jim laughed and picked up his bag again. “I’ll just dump my gear, and I’ll be back.”
A few minutes later, the entire household plus Karen and Tony were gathered in the lounge room. Tony was sitting on Jim’s lap in one chair, Karen had the one by Ty’s head, while Deon and Ryan had brought in seats from the dining area. Ty was filling them in on what had occurred that day.
“…then they stuck me in this large plastic capsule, like some sort of museum exhibit. I had to lie there for an hour wearing this dorky facemask while they raised the pressure and oxygen levels.” Ty chuckled. “The nurse apologised. They’re going to install a TV screen that can be watched from inside the pod, but the room at the hospital is too new, and they haven’t done that yet. At least they played me some music while I was in there.”
“An hour doesn’t seem that bad,” Ryan said.
“Yeah, but from now on it’ll be two hours.” Ty frowned. “That reminds me; I don’t know who Peter’s organised to courier me to the hospital tomorrow. He said he’d arrange it, but he never got back to me.”
Tony smiled. “That’ll be me. I think if I push the front seat all the way back, you’ll have enough leg room that you won’t have to stress your knee. The alternative is for you to take the back seat with your leg stretched out like you are now.” He shrugged. “We’ll sort that out tomorrow morning. I believe your appointment is for nine, so we should try to leave before half-past eight.”
Ty nodded. “Just don’t get caught in traffic getting here!”
Jim and Tony exchanged grins. “We’re way ahead of you, brat. Tony’s staying the night.”
When Ty raised an eyebrow at Karen, she chuckled. “Don’t even think about it. I’ve got uni tomorrow. Now, if you’d planned ahead and done this last week when I had a week off for the mid-semester break, I might’ve considered staying. As it is, you’re out of luck.”
“Damn.” Ty grinned at Karen. “Next time, I’m going to have to get a list of dates when you’re not at school so you’ll be free to nurse me back to health.”
“In your dreams.” Karen stood up, her playful expression dropping away. “I think it’s about time to change that ice pack.”
Ty smiled fondly as she left the room. He laughed for a moment and then winced and put a hand on his injured knee.
“What was so funny?” Deon asked.
“Sorry, that’s private.” Ty grimaced from the pain before smiling. “I’ll just say it involves a very short and revealing nurse’s uniform, and you don’t need to know any more than that.”
Karen returned carrying a cold pack. “And if you don’t want this put somewhere you wouldn’t like, I suggest you change the topic…fast.”
“If you insist…” Ty turned his head to look at Jim while Karen undid the wrapping around his knee. “I spoke to Mr. O’Malley about you, today.”
Jim blinked. “What about?”
“Drafting you. He said it’s not his call who they pick, but when I told him I was concerned that they didn’t seem to be chasing up on things, he just smiled and said they had the information they needed. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, and Mr. O’Malley wouldn’t say anything more despite my best efforts. Sorry.”
Jim shrugged. “No big deal. The draft isn’t on my radar at the moment.” He smiled. “There’s a premiership to be won that’s taking up most of my attention.”
“Most?” Ty narrowed his eyes. “Why not all?”
Jim chuckled as he used the arm around Tony’s waist to give his boyfriend a squeeze. “I’ve got other things I have to deal with, too, like a brat who chose the most inappropriate time in the season to get injured.”
“You don’t have to worry about him,” Ty said. “Karen will look after that.”
“Really?” Karen paused her treatment on his leg and contemplated Ty for a moment. “Does that include giving the aforementioned brat sponge baths?”
“Definitely!”
“With ice-cold water?” She gave him a wicked grin as she moved the cold pack in her hand slowly towards his groin. “We have to keep the swelling down, after all.”
“I think that’s going a bit too far.” Ty looked nervous as he shuffled ineffectually away from her. “You can create a serious injury if you apply ice in the wrong places. Back me up here, guys!”
Everyone else laughed.
* * *
Ty frowned at his knee as he was slid out of the hyperbaric chamber. “Am I supposed to be seeing or feeling a difference?”
The doctor smiled. “Not yet. Don’t worry, the treatment is having an effect. It’s only been two days; give it some time.”
“How long?”
“Another day or two and the swelling will be going down. We’ll continue the treatment past that point because every little bit is helping your knee recover, but on Thursday I want you to start walking on it. Not a lot; just get the muscles and joints moving again. Maybe just a slow stroll around the block a few times.”
Ty’s jaw dropped. “Thursday!” He stared back down at his right leg. “I can’t believe I’ll be recovered in two more days.”
“You won’t be, but you should’ve made enough progress by then. The knee will still be sore, but we want to make sure the muscles don’t stiffen up.” The doctor shrugged. “I won’t lie and say it’ll be easy. It won’t be, but if you put your mind to it and do what you’re told, we’ll get you ready for your grand final.”
“Thanks, doc.” Ty grinned to show his appreciation before looking past the doctor to the patiently waiting man. “Where to next?”
“I’m taking you back to the club.” Tony put the magazine he had been reading back on the rack. “Jackie’s got some rehab work planned; I think it’s mainly massages, but I’ll leave the details to her. Anne’s organised some of the staff to look after you once Jackie’s finished, and Karen’s organised a bucket of ice water if you get too bossy.” He chuckled as Ty flinched.
The doctor caught Ty’s eye. “Remember, rest that knee as much as you can. I’ll see you again at…” he checked the records he was holding, “…three tomorrow afternoon.”
Tony helped Ty to his feet and then into the wheelchair the hospital had supplied. He started wheeling Ty out.
Ty glanced up. “You know, it might be better for me to push myself. A good upper-body workout.”
“The doctor said rest. I’m taking that to mean no exercise without medical supervision.” Tony smiled. “You’re not going to lose fitness in a couple of days. If you want a second opinion, we can get Andrew to come in and tell you himself. You’ll trust the club’s doctor, right?”
Ty sighed. “No need. I heard the same thing you did. Rest, boring rest, just like I’ve been doing for the last two hours.”
“Those two hours are giving you a chance to play again, brat. Sometimes we have to wait; get used to it.”
Ty chuckled as Tony rolled him out the hospital’s front door. “You sound just like Dad.”
“He’s a smart guy.”
“And you’re completely unbiased.” Ty tilted his head so he could grin at the person pushing the wheelchair. “As am I.”
Tony laughed. He stopped next to his car and retrieved Ty’s crutches. “Let’s get you settled and then I’ll take the chair back. In the meantime, follow doctor’s orders and relax.”
“It’d be easier if Karen was looking after me…” Ty did his best to look innocent.
“You’re supposed to rest!” Tony shook his head. “You’re getting as bad as Alex.”
Ty brightened. “I haven’t seen him or Ethan for a while. I’ll send him a text and see if they’re able to drop in later this week.”
Tony gave a heavy sigh. “I don’t know how anyone can find Alex restful, but if you want to, go ahead. Jim and I might try to find somewhere else to go that night.”
“That’s not fair. It won’t be the same if you two aren’t there to be teased. You have to be there!”
Tony chuckled as he helped Ty into his car. “We’ll see. You need to concentrate on getting better.”
“I am!” Ty grinned. “I’m trying to keep my mind busy while letting my body recover. Thinking of ways to annoy Dad seems like a perfect solution.”
* * *
Gary grinned as he stood up and greeted his visitor. “G’day, Tony! This is a pleasant surprise.”
Tony shrugged. “I keep meaning to drop in to say hi, but I’ve been really busy lately.”
“Well, you’re here now. Sit down and I’ll organise something to eat and drink.” Gary glanced past Tony to where his and Matt’s secretary sat. “Olivia, would you mind…?”
“Not a problem, Gary.” She smiled at Tony, took his order, and then headed off.
“So you finally found some free time?” Gary asked as he settled back into his leather-bound swivel chair.
“Actually, no. This is also a work call.” Tony grinned sheepishly. “But it’s definitely a pleasure to be here.” Tony chuckled. “I’ve gotten out of the habit of seeing you in a suit.”
“It’s what the job requires.” Gary shrugged. “If the visit is work related, what’s it about?”
Tony filled Gary in on the situation with Ty’s knee and the series of treatment that the club had embarked on. As soon as he started to mention the cost, Gary held up a hand.
“You don’t have to ask. We’ll help with paying for Ty’s medical bills.” Gary smiled. “How much are you looking for?”
Tony grinned with relief. “We’re talking to a number of sponsors, so we don’t over burden anyone. A thousand would be more than enough, if you’re able to.”
Gary waved a hand dismissively. “We’ll make it two, and we’ll speak to our friends, too, but you have to promise me something.”
Tony raised an eyebrow and gave Gary a tentative smile. “I’ll do what I can, but there are some things I can’t promise.”
Gary chuckled. “Tickets to the Leopards end-of-season awards night, which I believe is scheduled for mid-October, and to do your absolute best to make it to the grand final. Matt and I want to see the Leopards holding high the premiership cup at the end of that match, too, but we won’t hold you to that one.”
Tony’s brow wrinkled. “You’ll be getting tickets anyway because you’re a sponsor, and this whole plan is to try to win the grand final, so I’m not sure what it is that I’m promising.”
“That we’re still part of the Leopards family and that next time you won’t hesitate to ask if you need help.” Gary glanced past Tony and smiled. “Thanks, Olivia. Just put the tray on the desk. If Matt gets back while Tony’s still here, send him straight in.”
“Sure.” Olivia smiled as she left the drinks and a plate of biscuits on Gary’s desk. “Matt should be here any minute now.”
Tony sat there, slowly shaking his head in disbelief. He’d underestimated the depth of feeling Matt and Gary had for the Leopards.
* * *
The next day, Ty looked up from the book he was reading when the door to the hospital room opened. “Neil, Clarissa, Liam!”
Neil smiled as he slipped his hand into Liam’s. “G’day, brat.”
Ty waved at the enclosing acrylic cylinder while pressing the button that activated the intercom. “I’d shake your hands, but as you can see I’m confined. Like I’m some sort of wild animal.” He rolled his eyes. “What brings you here?”
“We heard you had a late appointment today, so we thought we’d drop in after school,” Neil said. “Why are you wearing a mask?”
“It’s feeding me pure oxygen.” Ty grinned. “It’s supposed to help with the healing. Anyway, thanks for coming. I won’t say I’ve been bored…but it’s pretty boring in here.”
Clarissa grinned. “Karen also asked me to check on any nurses you were assigned. Not that she’s jealous, but she thought temptation would be bad for you.”
“What am I supposed to be doing, trapped inside this thing?” Ty chuckled. “Amit, these are some of my friends. Please ignore them and my not-so-jealous girlfriend if she happens to visit.”
The young Indian nurse stood up from where he had been doing some paperwork. “Pleased to meet you.”
The three visitors greeted Amit, and then they let him get back to what he was doing.
Neil took one of the empty seats. “Other than Amit, they’ve left you all alone?”
Ty shrugged. “While I know I’m pretty amazing, even a dedicated fan will get bored out of their mind watching me doing nothing in here for two straight hours. Tony said he’ll be back to pick me up after five.”
“Then I suppose our job is to keep you occupied until then.” Neil glanced at Clarissa and Liam. “Any suggestions?”
Clarissa raised her eyes to the ceiling for a moment and gave her a head a small shake. “How about just chatting?”
Ty grinned. “You can fill me in on what’s been happening at school. Nothing about school work,” he quickly added, shuddering for a moment. “Some things I don’t want to be reminded of. What’s been going on with you and your friends?”
Liam chuckled. “The guys at school are still complaining about that football clinic you guys put on for my birthday.”
“This is the first I’ve heard about a problem.” Ty frowned at Neil. “Why didn’t you say anything to me before now?”
Neil grinned. “The complaint was that the clinic was too late in the season. They want Liam to shift his birthday to the start of the footy season for next year and have another clinic then.”
Ty laughed. “I’m good, but I’m not sure even I’m able to change the date he was born.”
Clarissa smiled. “Speaking of which, Karen won’t tell me when your birthday is. She told me that you didn’t want anyone to know.” Her smile hardened as she crossed her arms and waited.
Ty froze. Only his eyes moved as his gaze flicked over his visitors. He grimaced. “There’s a good reason I don’t want people to know; it’ll cause a disruption in the team just when we don’t need it. I made Karen promise not to say anything.”
“Surely, your teammates already know?” Clarissa asked.
Ty shook his head. “Dad knows, but I’ve sworn him to secrecy. Roger does, too, because he was there when I told Peter I didn’t want the news to get out.”
Neil shook his head. “You’ve lost me. What’s the problem with people knowing your birthday?”
Ty paused. “Do you promise not to tell anyone?”
Clarissa, Neil, and Liam exchanged puzzled looks. Liam shrugged. “Yeah, sure.” The other two nodded their agreement.
“So, what’s the big deal?” Clarissa asked.
“Because it’s September 21st.”
Clarissa’s eyes widened. “That’s less than two weeks away!”
Ty grimaced. “That’s grand final day. I don’t want the game to be about me, it has to be about the team. Everyone needs to be focused on playing and that’s all.
“I want nothing more for my birthday than for the Leopards to win the grand final. I don’t want anyone distracted by anything else. I also don’t want to put any pressure on my teammates to make them think they have to win the game for me, so please don’t tell anyone.”
* * *
Ty glared. “Will you three stop mothering me!”
Julie crossed her arms and stared impassively back. “We’re not mothering you, brat. We’re making sure that this goes well. However…” she turned to Jim and Jackie, “I think you two can watch from here. I’ll call you over if we need any help.”
It was Thursday morning, and the four were at the Lilydale Leopards football oval. Ty had just leant his crutches against the railing that surrounded the ground. His knee was strapped, courtesy of Jackie, and he was about to try walking for the first time since he dislocated his kneecap. The doctor had originally indicated Ty should walk around the block at home a few times, but Jackie had suggested some laps of the oval, instead.
“I don’t need you, either,” Ty said through gritted teeth.
“Bad luck, because I’m not leaving.” Julie narrowed her eyes. “You will either accept me walking next to you, or you’ll be doing push-ups until you change your mind. Your choice.”
Ty glanced across where Jim was unable to hide his anxiety. “Why can’t Dad walk with me, instead?”
“Because he’s too nice. He won’t make you go that extra lap; I will. And before you ask, I have enough experience to know when you’ve done enough.” She turned to the team’s junior physiotherapist. “Right, Jackie?”
“I think she outranks us, brat. Sorry.” Jackie smiled and tapped Jim on the arm. “Come on, let’s go and let them do this on their own.”
Jim grimaced and then threw a weak smile at Ty. “Good luck.” He took a couple of hesitant steps away before glancing back, uncertain.
“Go!” Ty turned away, though he was careful to do so without moving his injured leg more than necessary. “Okay, let’s get this done.”
Ty tried to take a step…and grabbed the railing next to him. The pain when he went to bend his knee was excruciating.
“Smaller steps. Don’t try to bend the knee too much. We’re working to loosen it up, not test to see how much you can move it.” In contrast to earlier, Julie’s tone was clinical, with just a touch of encouragement.
“Right.” Ty tried shuffling. The pain was still sharp each time he moved his right knee, but he forced himself to endure.
“That’s it. Keep going, don’t stop.”
Ty gritted his teeth as he continued to hobble his way around the oval. By the time he finished the lap, he was fighting back tears of agony. “I can’t do this! It’s not working!”
Julie’s tone was gentle. “Yes, you can. I have faith in you, brat. I’ve never seen you fail at something you’ve set your mind on, and I’m not going to see you fail today. You’ve pushed through pain before; you can do it again. Another lap. I know you can do it. Believe in yourself!”
Ty’s eyes were almost closed from pain as he started a second lap. He let Julie’s constant encouragements filter through the back of his mind while he focused simply on the mammoth task of taking one more step…and then another. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, his hobbling steps seemed easier. By the time he had finished his fourth lap, a faint smile was on his lips. As his knee warmed up, it became easier to move. There was still a lot of pain, but it wasn’t as bad as when he had started.
He finally had hope; the gamble to get him ready to play just might work.
* * *
“Thanks for the dinner, guys.” Alex lifted his beer in appreciation. “It was worth the trip out here just for the meal.”
Tony chuckled. “You like any meal you don’t have to pay for and don’t have to cook yourself.”
“Guilty as charged.” Alex shrugged. “Hey, I’m a poor student who has to make do.”
“But it was still a good meal.” Ethan grinned at Alex. “Much better than last night’s.”
“Don’t blame that on me! The microwave hates me, and it overcooked the food deliberately.” Alex pouted at his boyfriend and then grinned at Ty. “You know what I mean.”
Ty grinned back. “Yeah. Vicious machines, but too bloody useful to throw out.”
“Anyway, thanks for having us, guys.” Ethan smiled at Jim, Tony, Ty, Deon, and Ryan. “I hope your knee gets better in time, Ty.”
“Speaking of that, how did things go today?” Deon asked Ty.
Ty shrugged. “Pretty well, considering. They had me out walking around the oval this morning, to see what I could do.”
“It wasn’t easy for him.” Jim gave Ty a sympathetic smile. “I could tell that the first couple of laps were pure agony, but he kept on going and ending up doing five before Julie stopped him.”
“How far is that?” Ethan asked.
“Around two kilometres, give or take a bit.” Jim shrugged. “I’ve never measured it, but it’s about four hundred metres around our oval.”
“So those first two laps would be close to a kilometre, and he was in agony the whole time?” Alex shook his head. “I’m glad I’m not that much into sports. No offence, brat, but you’re crazy.”
Ty laughed. “I thought you already knew that.”
“What’s the next steps?” Ryan asked.
Ty shrugged. “More of the same. On Monday, they’re going to give me an injection into the knee to see if they can make it numb. If they can, and I can start moving freely, then I’ll be on track to play. That’s the uncertain bit. They think my knee is fully functional and it’s just the swelling and pain that’s stopping me, but they won’t know until the swelling has gone and I test it without pain.”
“Well, best of luck for that.” Alex smiled and nodded his head towards Ty. “We’ve already settled you’re crazy, but you’re also one tough son of a bitch.”
Ty straightened and his eyebrows rose. “What?”
“I’m just saying that you’re tough, going through that much pain just to play football.”
“Bite your tongue! Or, better still, get Ethan to bite it for you.” Ty grinned. “But you’ve just made my day.” He turned to Jim. “Dad, Alex has just given me a new nickname for Julie. I want you and the rest of the guys to start using it tomorrow.”
Jim sighed. “What is it?” he asked in a tone of resignation.
“Well, we all know that Julie’s a bitch, but if I’m a son of a bitch then that makes Julie…” Ty paused to see if anyone would make the connection.
Alex was the first. He grinned. “Sounds perfect, brat!”
Jim buried his head in his hands. “What did I do to deserve this?”
Ryan stared at them. “What are you guys talking about?”
Deon looked thoughtful. “It sort of fits, though Tony might object.”
Tony held up both hands. “Leave me out of this!”
Ty grinned at Ryan’s confusion. “Tomorrow, when you talk to Julie at training, you need to start using her new nickname. You have to call her…Mum.”
Jim poked a finger in Ty’s direction. “You can try, but I’m not insane. There’s no way I’m calling Julie that.”
“Ah…Dad.” Ty pouted. “How can you say that? Don’t you love her anymore?”
Copyright © August 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.