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The centre passed out wide to Liam’s teammate. The ball missed its mark. It was too high to catch. He fumbled the ball.
The opposition shifted closer.
Liam was there in a flash. His powerful legs pumping hard as he threw himself bodily in front of the defending player.
They hit the ground hard, the tackle legal.
His teammate shored up his grip. Ran forward.
But the other defenders were already there.
“Nooo,” Adelaide shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. “Bloody hell.” The East Sydney team they were playing against were relentless, their attack flawless. The new guy, Bryce Flaharty, was like a battering ram and their defence shut down too many attempts at scoring early on.
But they were on fire now, a fierce determination to avoid the loss.
The hooker went down under a pile of limbs directly before their front-row seats. She could hear the slam of bodies together, theoomphand grunts as wind was knocked out of their lungs. Three men on top of him. Pressing him into the manicured grass of the stadium.
Fifth tackle.
It was now or never.
The ball was still in play. It was still clutched firmly in the player’s hands when he’d hit the ground.
The whistle blew. Defending players clambered up and off him. Standing, he shook off the tackle, straightened his uniform and placed the ball on the ground, rolling it back with his foot in a pass to the prop. Lobbing it out wide, the ball sailed at waist height like a bullet, shooting straight at the gap Liam was closing in on.
He sprinted up the sideline. Closing in on it with every step.
Thick legs pumping hard, arms outstretched as the ball sailed toward him.
Only metres from the try line. Only metres away from scoring.
Adelaide was on her feet. She screamed her encouragement. Eli was next to her yelling. Cheering.
Her heart was in her throat. Adelaide shouted, “Yes! Run, you’ve got it! Go, go, run! Yes!”
Liam launched himself through the air and closed his fingertips around the ball. He pulled it in close, tucking it into the crook of his arm.
He hit the ground.
Rolled.
Scrambled back to his feet. Punched out with a speed Adelaide had never witnessed before.
Sidestepped. Missed his opponent’s charge. Jumped over another.
“Come on, come on,” Eli urged desperately, his fists white knuckled as they slowly lifted into the air with every step closer to the line that Liam made.
Surrounded on two sides, the boundary line on his left, Liam sprinted.
Adelaide sucked in a breath as he neared the line, now less than a body length away.
A last-ditch attempt.
A low tackle.
Liam’s feet were swept out from under him.
Adelaide watched in horror as he spun side on. Flew awkwardly through the air. Oh God, was he okay? Her heart double-timed in a rat-tat-rat-tat beat.
