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Despite breathing heavily, I grin. This is my time to show them the type of leader I can be. “Alright. We’ve got twenty-minutes left. We need to keep our momentum and keep hitting them where it hurts. The scoreboard. Go in hard but play it smart. Go for the ball, not the player.”
I nod over at Chris, who grins, and the players turn their attention to him. As he goes through the position changes on the board, I rest my hands on my hips. Adrenaline is coursing through me, and I’m antsy to get back out on the field for the last quarter.
In the dying minutes of the game, we’re only three points up. The roar of the crowd sends a spike of adrenaline straight through me. The ball spills out of the middle. My opponent elbows me in the guts, and I grunt, cursing as he takes off toward the ball. I can see my teammate Finch in the corner of my eye, and he’s going to get there before me, so I peel off toward the middle of the ground. Finch lays the tackle, clean and sweet, and the ball is knocked from the opposition to the ground. The umpire’s whistle blows, and Finch goes back for the free kick.
I call for it, but the kick comes off the side of his boot, so I change direction, scooping up the ball and throwing it on my left boot. Macca’s running toward me. He leaps into the air, hands outstretched and marks it cleanly. Bailey peels off on his right, and Macca gives off the handball with clean hands. Knowing better than to bounce the ball with the ground this slippery, Bailey bends quickly, touching the tip of the ball to the ground to gain more allowable distance. There’re two players on his tail but he skilfully shrugs off the tackle, handballing back to Macca.
My best mate pulls off a quick feint around the opposition who skidded and lost his footy in the muddy ground. Macca drops the ball on his right foot, and I follow the flight of the ball as it sails through the two middle sticks for a goal. The perfect drop punt. The goal umpire waves the two flags to indicate the six points added to our team’s’ score. I pump my fists as the siren sounds, and Finch runs past slapping my butt. Nine points. It’s our closest win, and we’re now on top of the ladder which makes it even sweeter.
Chris catches me as I leave the showers, grinning. “Hurry up and get dressed, mate. Stephen Rogers wants a chat.”
I stare at him stupidly. He’s got to be kidding. I finally move as Chris nudges me toward my bag.
∞
I’m still reeling when Hannah and Ashley meet up with me and Macca at the canteen twenty minutes later.
“Who was that you were talking to after the game?” Ashley asks, swiping some of my hot chips.
“Stephen Rogers. The list manager at Geelong.”
I can’t wipe the stupid grin off my face. He’d congratulated me on my game and told me to keep up the good work. He was impressed with my attack on the ball, and my ability to read the play and shut my opponent out of the game. I’d kept the North Heights centre half forward to only four points. Last week he’d bagged six goals.
“That’s awesome!” The excitement in Hannah’s voice makes me desperately want to pull her in for a hug, but instead we all just hover there awkwardly.
“Soooo,” Macca drawls. “Who’s ready to celebrate me tonight?” Ashley rolls her eyes, and he nudges her with a grin. “C’mon Ash, you know you can’t resist all this.” He runs his hands down his body suggestively.
She groans, muttering “oh my God” under her breath.
I nudge Hannah’s shoulder. “You still coming tonight?”
“Yeah. I’ve got dinner at my grandparents, but Ash’s mum is picking me up around seven thirty.” Her phone buzzes, and she glances down at it. “That’s dad now. C’mon Ash.” She gives a small wave. “Great game today. We’ll see you later.”
“Later,” I repeat, watching her walk off.
“You’ve got it bad, man.” I can hear the amusement in Macca’s voice as he smacks me in the back of the head.
I shrug. No point in denying it.
28
“So, what was with all of the weird sexual tension between you and Mr AFL superstar today?” Ashley spins around in the front seat to grill me as soon as I get in her mum’s car later that night.
I groan. “Seriously Ash? Can you just drop it?”
She rolls her eyes with a huff. “Whatever. But it’s been a month since your birthday when he all but declared his feelings for you. How long are you gonna make the poor guy grovel?”
“Ashley!” Her mum admonishes her. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“Pshhhh!” She waves her mum off. “If it’s left up to dear old Hannah here, she’ll still be single at thirty, living in a one-bedroom apartment with her thirteen cats.”
Mrs Sinclair feigns offence, placing her hand over her chest. “I hope you’re not saying thirty is old, daughter dearest, or you may just have to find another lift to Macca’s eighteenth birthday party.”
I laugh. “Enough. I’m not going to be a spinster, and I’m also not going to let you push me into anything I’m not ready for.”
“Smart move!” Mrs Sinclair smiles at me in the rear-view mirror.
Ashley ‘hurumphs’ and crosses her arms but she remains quiet for the rest of the drive. She’s not going to let it go that easy though. I just hope she doesn’t do anything embarrassing.
