Leopard Spots - 44. Chapter 44

Brandon smiled across the table at Neil. “Come on, Neil, it’ll be fun. We’ll make sure you have a good time. Trust us.”

Eric nodded as he reached over and put a hand on top of Neil’s. “We’ll take good care of you, honey. You won’t have to worry about a thing.”

Neil slipped his hand free, using the pretext of taking a sip of his coffee. The three were at a small coffee shop just around the corner from Pride FM, where Neil had been working for the last two weeks. Tony had arranged for him to be employed there during the school holidays that started at the end of June, the week after Ty’s tribunal hearing.

“I don’t know...” Neil didn’t want to do what they wanted, but he didn’t want to be rude, either. Working in the booth alongside the sound technician, he had watched Brandon and Eric many times as they hosted the late afternoon radio show. He admired the two guys, though he also found their behaviour intimidating on occasion.

“It’s your last day working with us, Neil. Everyone will want an update on your story. I know you’ve told a lot of people at the station how things are going, but we’d like you to tell our listeners, too.” Brandon shrugged. “Maybe take a few calls. We’ll see how it goes.”

“I don’t want to tell everyone. It’s all very personal.”

Eric reached over again, though this time he simply patted Neil’s hand. “Neil, honey, you’re not the only person in this world who’s had problems with their parents. There are a lot of young guys like you out there who want to hear that things can work out. Do it for them. Give them hope, even if they can’t see it themselves at the moment. Show them that things can get better.”

Neil sat for a moment while he thought about it. He wasn’t someone who wanted to be in the spotlight, but he’d been there before and if it were for a good cause, he could make himself do it again. Steeling his resolve, he looked up and smiled. “Okay.”

“Excellent!” Brandon grinned across the table. “You won’t regret it.”

Neil immediately started to have reservations. “That TV interview that Jim did caused problems because he made a slip of the tongue. What if I did the same?”

“Then we’ll bleep it out.” Eric smiled. “Even live broadcasts have a delay just in case someone says the wrong thing. We’ve had interviewees that have dropped the F-bomb a few times, and it’s only the quick finger of our producer that stops them from going to air.”

“Interviewers, too.” Brandon smirked at Eric.

Eric pouted. “Hey, I’d just had a glass of ice water dumped in my lap! What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, deary me. What a klutz you are?’ Fuck that. Anyone in that situation would’ve said what I said.” He rolled his eyes as he turned to Neil. “He did it on purpose just because our guest liked me.”

“Our guest was about to crawl up the wall to get away from you.” Brandon chuckled. “And I only did it on instruction from the control room. I think Joe was jealous. He wanted to ask the guy out on a date, and you looked like you were going to get in first.”

“Well, it didn’t work. He didn’t date either of us.” Eric frowned. “I can’t even remember who the guest was. All I can remember is you pouring that water over me.”

Brandon seemed to sense Neil’s unease. “Don’t worry about it, mate. Eric doesn’t hit on the guests anymore.”

Eric tossed his head, flicking his hair back in the process. “Speak for yourself, ducky.” He smiled at Neil. “But don’t worry. You’re too young for me. Plus, you have a boyfriend, and I don’t poach.” When Brandon raised an eyebrow, Eric shrugged. “At least, not often.”

Neil chuckled nervously. He knew that Eric was harmless, but he was still uncomfortable at times with the older guy’s flamboyant behaviour.

“Okay, guys, time to head back. We’ve got our special guest for the show,” Brandon grinned as he nodded towards Neil, “so now it’s time to prepare.”

As they stood up, Neil asked the question he realised he should’ve asked before he’d agreed. “What exactly will we be talking about?”

“How things are going for you in general. Life with the Lilydale Leopards.” Brandon smiled. “And, hopefully, how things are progressing with your parents. That’s the real one I’d like to broadcast, but if you’d prefer not to, we’ll skip it.”

Neil pulled a face. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it...”

“But it’s personal.” Eric put a hand on Neil’s bicep for a moment. “We understand, but we really want other young guys who feel that their parents will never accept them to know the things you’ve told people at the station. As Brandon said, that, more than anything, is the message we want to give to our listeners.”

Neil grimaced and then nodded. “Okay.”

The three returned to the radio station and joined the producer to plan the show. In the two weeks that Neil had worked there, he knew that there were planning sessions for every show and every segment within a show, but he hadn’t previously been involved. He was quietly amazed at the level of detail the producer and hosts went into.

The time flew and suddenly Neil found himself inside one of the studios, with headphones and a microphone.

Brandon winked at Neil. “Listeners, today’s guest is someone who has been working here at Pride FM for the last couple of weeks, and after a long session of pleading and grovelling from myself and Eric, he’s finally agreed to come on the air. Neil Rosewood was brought to the attention of the nation after a TV show reported on how he ran away from his homophobic parents and was taken in and supported by the Lilydale Leopards VFL team, including Pride FM’s own Jim Henderson. We’ve asked him to join us so he can update us on how things have been going since that time. Neil, welcome.”

“Thanks, Brandon. I’ve really enjoyed my time here at Pride FM over the last two weeks.”

Brandon smiled. “Today’s your last day working here, as you’ll be back at school on Monday, but can you fill us in on the reactions from your schoolmates? We know you came out on that TV show; did your classmates handle it well?”

“Generally, yes. There’s been a few comments from some of the younger students, but I think most of that has just been some of the guys trying to project a macho image. I’ve actually been amazed by some of the people who have been defending and supporting me.”

Eric grinned. “We understand one particular guy at school has gone over and beyond the call of duty. Can you tell us about that?”

Neil chuckled nervously. “Yeah.... He came out at school about a month before me, and he’s now my boyfriend. We haven’t managed to see each other much over these last two weeks because of the hours I’ve been working here, but we’re catching up each weekend, and we’re both looking forward to being able to spend more time together once school starts again.”

“Good luck, and remember to always play safe.” Eric’s grin broadened as Neil’s face went red. “What about outside school? You’re living away from home now. That must be a new experience for you.”

Brandon and Eric continued to interview Neil for the next five minutes. They talked about the Lilydale Leopards, how Neil was a runner for the club, and how the team had lost their recent matches against Williamstown and Port Melbourne. Despite that, the Leopards were sitting just outside the top four on percentage, only one win behind the two leading teams. Neil made a point of mentioning that that their next game was on Sunday in Lilydale and encouraged the listeners to go along and support the club.

The conversation returned back to Liam, though all three were careful to not mention his name on air. Neil had insisted on that, as he didn’t have Liam’s permission. He’d sent Liam a text message, but he hadn’t had a reply by the time the show started.

Neil had just been saying how supportive his boyfriend’s parents had been when Eric gave him a look of sympathy. “Speaking of parents, what about your own? Have you maintained contact with them after you ran away?”

Neil grimaced. “I have, but it took me a while before I did so. I started with a couple of phone calls, which were positive enough that I eventually went around to see them. That was last month.”

“Wasn’t that dangerous?” Eric asked. “After all, we’ve all seen that picture of what your father did to you.”

“It was risky, but I wanted to do it. I didn’t go alone, though. Two of the Leopards came with me, as well as my boyfriend and his father. I’m glad I did, because it turned out pretty well.”

“There weren’t any problems?”

Neil screwed up his face. “I wouldn’t say that. My dad seems to be coming around. He was more confused than anything else, but he didn’t get angry when he saw me holding my boyfriend’s hand. That could’ve been an act, but I’ve been talking to them on the phone twice a week since then, and I don’t think so.”

“What about your mother?” Brandon asked as he reached over to put a hand on top of Neil’s. He already knew the answer.

“She...she’s struggling. She’s the one who has been sending me things, the one who made sure that the communications stayed open, but she can’t accept that I’m gay. When I was there with my boyfriend, she wouldn’t look at us. She’d smile at me, but only when I wasn’t next to him. If he was there, she’d keep her eyes averted.”

“Does she say anything?”

“No.... She’s not preaching or complaining, and she’s make it clear in so many ways that she loves me, but...”

“But she’s not accepting who you are.” Brandon gave Neil’s hand a squeeze of sympathy before letting go. “Do you think she ever will? Or that your father will?”

“My dad will get there, I think, but Mum...will probably take a long time. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that things will be easier tomorrow when I see them again.”

Eric’s eyes widened. “Tomorrow? Are you going by yourself or with your boyfriend?”

“No to both. I’m not taking him this time, but a couple of the Leopards will be going with me with their girlfriends. We don’t think there’s any risk, and maybe the girls will help make my mum more comfortable.”

“Well best of luck with that. We all hate it when we learn about a teenager being abused by his parents simply because he’s gay, and we’re glad to see that your parents are coming around. It’s slow progress, but it’s progress. Good luck, Neil. Eric and I both hope everything works out in the end.” Brandon grinned and winked.

“Speaking of progress, lots of people have been making comments about the upcoming broadcast of Michael Parkinson’s interview with Australian Olympic gold-medalist Ian Thorpe.” Brandon’s expression went serious for the first time. “Since you’re here, I’m sure everyone would like the opinion from one of today’s gay teenagers. If, as is expected, Ian Thorpe comes out in that interview, how does that make you feel?”

The advertisements had been going all week, with the interview scheduled to be screened on Sunday night. The ads included a clip showing Sir Michael Parkinson asking Ian Thorpe about his sexuality, but not the response.

Neil hesitated a moment before responding. “Ian Thorpe’s a hero to a lot of Australians. After denying it for so long, if he says he’s gay then I’m not sure what to think. Is he saying it’s okay to lie about your sexuality? Is he saying it’s okay to be a gay sportsman once you retire? I’m not sure.”

“We’re not asking for what it means. We’re asking how does it make you feel?” Eric reached over and patted Neil’s hand. “Is it encouraging, or does it mean nothing?”

“It means something, and for a lot of people I think it’ll help.” Neil smiled as he remembered a comment Liam had made once. “It’s like when Jim came out as a gay VFL footballer. My boyfriend told me that helped him make the decision to come out himself. He plays football, too, and if Jim could come out and still play, so could he. Thorpie’s a much higher profile sportsman than Jim, and he’ll reach a lot more people as a consequence. Overall, it’s good, but I think it would’ve had a bigger impact if he’d done it while still swimming competitively for Australia.”

“I can’t argue with that.” Brandon smiled before turning to catch the producer’s eye. “Time to take a few calls from our listeners....”

* * *

Peter was finishing up in his office before the Leopards Friday night training when his phone rang. After glancing at the caller id, he frowned before deciding to accept the call. “G’day, Alan.”

Alan Kenworth’s voice was hesitant. “G’day, Peter. I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”

“Training will be starting in fifteen minutes, so I hope this is quick. I remember how our last conversation ended.” Peter still had a bad taste in his mouth from the earlier encounter with the Carlton trainer.

It had been back in early April, after Ty’s first game as vice-captain. Alan and Peter had been having a drink at the Olinda Creek Hotel, where Alan had been fishing for information about Ty. When Alan made the mistake of calling Jim ‘a poof’, Peter had stormed off.

“Yeah, I’d like to apologise for that. It was a mistake, and I’m really sorry for what I said.”

Peter wasn’t inclined to be generous. “That was three months ago, Alan. Why has it taken you so long to come to that conclusion?”

“Because I felt stupid. Also, I didn’t know how to make up for it. However, I’ve heard some news, and I thought I’d pass it on as a peace offering.”

“Oh?”

“The Western Bulldogs are going to have a vacancy for an assistant coach at the end of the season. It’s not being widely advertised, but maybe you should apply.”

Peter tensed. Over the years, he had applied for a number of coaching jobs with AFL clubs but had never been successful. “What makes you think I’ve got a chance?”

“Because of what you’re doing with the Leopards. Your name’s been mentioned a few times by various clubs. Not only are they watching your players, but they’re watching you, too. I thought you’d like to know.”

Peter didn’t say anything while he processed the information.

“Peter?”

“Thanks for the info, Alan. What about Ty? Are you still interested in him?” Peter pushed the coaching job to the back while returning the focus to his players.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I was asked to speak to you that time, but after telling my boss what you said, they’ve gone quiet. I’d guess that they’ve moved on. They either have the information they were looking for, or they’re not interested any more. The people involved aren’t talking to me, so I don’t know which. Sorry.”

Peter glanced at the clock. “I need to get ready for training, Alan. Thanks for the call. Maybe we can catch up some time, but I’ve got to go.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. And next time I promise I won’t be pumping you for information.”

“Talk to you later, Alan.”

Peter sat there for a couple of minutes after the call, his mind in turmoil. He then forced the job suggestion to the back of his mind. He needed to focus on getting ready for training and then the match on Sunday.

* * *

It was Saturday morning, and Jim and Ty were cleaning the kitchen and dining areas of the house. Deon poked his head into the room. “I’m off to collect Jordan. I’ll see you later.” He waved a hand before disappearing.

“Have fun!” Ty called out. “Just don’t bring him back here. I’m still recovering!”

Deon could be heard chuckling as he left the house. Ty smiled before turning back to Jim. “Do you think Sam and Marcus will be celebrating about now?”

“Jordan wasn’t that bad, brat. In fact, I thought he was easier to handle than someone else I could mention.” Jim dodged the cleaning cloth that Ty threw at him.

“Maybe, but he was pretty full on. The kid never stopped!” Ty grinned. “At least we were able to take him to the club to let off steam. He’s got the makings of a decent footballer.”

For most of the first week of the school holidays, Deon’s younger brother had stayed with them before Jordan headed to Sydney for a week with his father. Deon was on his way to the airport to pick him up and take him home.

“I didn’t see that much. You spent a lot more time with him than I did.” Jim cocked his head. “In fact, I was getting the impression that Deon might have a new rival in Jordan’s hero stakes.”

“Nah...” Ty chuckled. “He’s just impressionable. I set him straight. Brats don’t make good heroes.” He glanced at his phone. “Almost time for me to go, too. I’ll just finish up this, and then I’ll head off.”

Jim grimaced. “I wish I was going with you, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“No fucking way. At some stage, yes, but Neil didn’t even want Liam with him when he visited his parents this time. You might set off his father again.”

“I know, but I don’t have to like it.” Jim sighed. “Are you and Ollie going to be enough if things go wrong?”

Ty shrugged. “With Karen and Helena there, I’d be surprised if Neil’s father tries anything.” Ty pulled a face. “From what Neil’s told me, he’s more worried about his mother than his dad. She’s not going to cause problems, but Neil doesn’t think she’s accepting that he’s gay. That’s why this visit is without Liam; he wants to give her a chance, and he doesn’t want to push her too hard, at least for now.”

“Yeah, I know. I caught the radio interview he did yesterday. He explained it all then.”

Ty stiffened. “What radio interview?”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t tell you? He was on the afternoon program at Pride FM as part of his last day at work.”

“He told me that they were looking at some part-time work for him when school resumes next week, probably one or two nights helping with the evening show, but he never said anything about being on the radio!” Ty grinned. “I’ll just have to teach him a lesson for keeping things from me.”

Jim chuckled. “I’ll leave that with you, brat.”

After finishing the cleaning, Ty headed back to his room to get changed. The plan was to pick up Karen and then rendezvous with Oliver, Helena, and Neil at a park near Neil’s parent’s house. Once they were all there, they would head over to visit.

* * *

Neil wiped his hands on his jeans while ignoring the light rain that was falling. He grimaced when he noticed everyone else was waiting for him. “Okay, let’s go.”

His parents’ door opened before he was halfway across the front yard. “Neil!”

“Hi, Mum.” Neil paused and waved a hand behind him. “I don’t think you’ve met Ollie and Helena. Ollie’s one of my housemates.”

Mrs. Rosewood smiled at the pair and then past them to Ty and Karen. “Good morning, everyone. Please come in out of the wet. I’ve prepared a few snacks in case anyone was hungry.” She stepped to the side to let them pass.

There was a moment of hesitation as Neil came abreast of her, and then he leant over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Her answering smile was enough to make everyone relax.

Neil’s father was waiting by the door. Again, there was a pause before Neil stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “Dad.”

“G’day, Neil.” Phil Rosewood stared at the outstretched hand for a moment before making a face and accepting the handshake. “I suppose now that you’re grown up, you won’t want a hug from your old man.”

Neil gnawed at his lower lip for a moment. He glanced back at Ty and received a nod and smile in reply. Neil turned back to his father. “If you’re happy to give me one, I’m happy to accept it.”

Neil only had a moment to see the grin on his father’s face before he was engulfed in an embrace. It didn’t last long, but it was enough for Neil to know that his father was safe, at least when in public.

“Thank you,” Phil whispered as he released his son.

Mary Rosewood wiped a hand across her eyes before stepping forward. “Right, everyone. Let’s go inside and sit down.”

A few minutes later, they were all in the lounge room, each with a drink and a slice of cake or freshly baked scone.

“Very nice, Mrs. Rosewood,” Oliver said after taking a bite out of the carrot cake he’d chosen. “Did you make it yourself?”

“Call me Mary.” She blushed. “It’s an old recipe of my mother’s.”

“In that case, I don’t suppose I can ask for a copy.”

“Of course, you can!” She stood up. “I’ll do that right away.”

“Please, not now.” Oliver glanced at Neil. “Neil’s been looking forward to this visit all week.”

Mary Rosewood gave Neil a hopeful look. “Is that so?”

“I’ve missed you, Mum.” Neil’s voice was soft, but everyone heard it. “I’ve come to really appreciate everything you’ve ever done for me.”

“You can move back here, if you want. Your old room’s been cleaned, and everything’s ready if you want to stay.”

Neil stared back and then sighed. He dropped his eyes to the carpet. “Would Liam be allowed to visit?” He looked up to watch her reaction.

“I...” Mary’s glance at Phil was one of distress. “Are you...?”

Phil shook his head. “I don’t think we’re ready for that, Neil. Maybe one day, but we’re just happy to see you again. Can we please talk about something else? Your mother and I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to.”

Neil nodded. His decision to ask Liam to stay away – a decision that resulted in their first, if brief, fight – had been justified. His parents were still a long way from accepting him.

* * *

Neil and Karen watched from the Leopards grandstand as Ty ran through a number of solo drills on the oval. He claimed he was working off all the food that Neil’s mother had pushed onto him, but both of them knew that he was really trying to maintain his fitness and skills for when he’d be allowed to play again next week.

“What did you think of my parents?” Neil asked.

“They’re making progress. I didn’t sense any anger or hatred, and from what I’ve been told, your father was originally blaming Ty as much as Jim for you being gay.”

Neil stiffened. “Shit! I’d forgotten that. I shouldn’t have let Ty come with me.”

Karen snorted. “And how were you planning on stopping him once he made up his mind? I might be able to manage it on rare occasions, but I’ve got tactics that you can’t use.”

“But if he’d been hurt...”

“He wasn’t, and I don’t think he will be. Your mum and dad both seemed genuine when they thanked Ty and Ollie for looking out for you. I wouldn’t want to put money on it, but I think you’d be safe with them, too. Your mum might try to persuade you that being gay is unnatural – she tried that one on Helena and me when we were alone in the kitchen – but I suspect that’s the worst that will happen.”

“What about my dad?”

“I think he’s okay. I caught his comment to you at the end, when your mum wasn’t around, and that was positive.”

Neil frowned. “Which comment was that?”

“That he hoped Liam was well. He not only used Liam’s name, but his words indicated that he had no ill feelings towards him. That’s not the sign of someone who thinks his son is being stolen by some pervert.”

“Thanks, Karen.” Neil sighed. “I’m hopeful, but I don’t know how long it will take for them to accept me for who I am.”

Karen took his hand and then leant over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “They’ll get there. Just be patient.” She squeezed once and then let go.

“Final exams are in four months, and then I have to make a decision. If I go to Sydney, it’ll be years before I see them again.” He turned to Karen. “Do you think going would be good or bad?”

Karen smiled as she shook her head. “I can’t make that call for you, Neil. Anyway, you could still return to Melbourne over Christmas, since you’ll have at least a couple of months off for summer.”

“But I’ll probably have to find a job. Sam and Marcus can’t be expected to pay for everything. I’ll need my own money, too.”

“It sounds like you’ve almost made up your mind to go.” Karen cocked her head. “Why’s that?”

Neil pulled a face. “At the moment it’s the best chance for me to get a degree. I can’t move back home, not yet, and any other option would mean having to do my degree part-time while I also work to keep a roof over my head. Liam’s said he’ll follow me to Sydney, so I won’t be losing him by going, which was the major argument for staying. I’m going to miss all the guys here at the club, but they’re encouraging me to go, too.”

“As long as you make an effort to stay in touch, your parents will wait. That’s the impression I had, and maybe the time away will give them a chance to understand you better.” Karen linked her arm with Neil’s. “It’ll work out. I don’t know why, but I feel that it will.”

“Thanks. I’ve got the same feeling, but I wasn’t sure if that was just wishful thinking.”

The two watched Ty working out for a few minutes. It had started to rain again, making them retreat a couple of rows up the grandstand to stay dry, but Ty didn’t look like he would be stopping anytime soon.

“Neil, can I ask a favour?” Karen said when Ty slipped in the wet conditions and slammed a fist onto the ground in frustration.

“Sure!”

“Tomorrow, at the game, can you keep an eye on Ty?”

Neil stared at her in surprise. “No problem, but why?”

Karen sighed. “I was with him for the game against Port Melbourne. He tried to keep it hidden, but I could tell he was frustrated that he couldn’t play. When the guys lost, he started blaming himself.” She turned to Neil and offered him a sad smile. “I can’t be there tomorrow because I’ll be working, but if the guys lose again, I’m scared that Ty might do something stupid. I’m probably just being paranoid, but can you make sure that doesn’t happen?”

Neil turned to where Ty was angrily running through the drill again. “I’ll do what I can, but if he wants to do something I’m not sure I can stop him.”

“Just do what you did on the bus after the Williamstown game. Remind him that he’s got friends.”

Neil nodded. “I can do that.” He didn’t bother mentioning that Ty and Todd had done the same for him when he needed it.

* * *

Bruce parked the car and turned to his son. “You know that this is a special case, and you’re still not allowed to go out whenever you want or whenever Neil asks. We’re doing this on a case-by-case basis, Liam.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Liam unfastened his seatbelt and grinned at his father. “But don’t lie and tell me that you’re not looking forward to an afternoon off to watch some footy.”

Bruce chuckled. “Okay, I won’t. Now let’s go find Ty.”

Liam’s expression went serious. “Remember, don’t tell him that Neil asked us to sit with him. We’re supposed to act as if we just happened to be there.”

Bruce gave the roof of the car a long-suffering look. “I know. And after the game we’ll ask Ty to take us down to the change room so you can see Neil again.” He grinned at Liam. “As if you couldn’t do that without his help.”

“Neil asked us to help him look after Ty, but without Ty knowing. If being stupid allows me to do that, then I’ll be stupid.” Liam grinned at his father. “You don’t have to tell me that’s my natural state.”

Bruce chuckled. “I’ll consider it said.” He opened the car door. “Now, let’s get going.”

* * *

Patrick O’Malley was already regretting the impulsive decision to attend the Northern Blues football match. It was the first time in several years that he had gone to a game outside of Visy Park or one of the grounds in central Melbourne. He had decided on the trip at the last moment, a chance to not only see Carlton’s VFL affiliate play but also to see Ty Flanders in action.

The first regret was the cost of the taxi fare to Lilydale, a lot higher than he had expected, but once there, he found the stairs up to a seat in the grandstand a daunting prospect. He was looking around for an alternative when he heard his name.

“Mr. O’Malley!”

Patrick looked up and saw Ty Flanders waving at him. He lifted a hand in greeting and shuffled the few steps needed to where Ty was leaning over the guardrail. “Young Flanders!” Patrick didn’t keep his surprise from showing. “I thought you’d be playing.”

Ty grimaced. “I’m currently suspended, but I’ll be back next week.”

“I thought you only received a two-week penalty.”

“Two-match penalty, but we didn’t have a game last week, so it’s effectively three weeks.” Ty put on a grin, though Patrick could tell it was forced. “Anyway, why don’t you join me and my friends for the game?”

Patrick sighed. “I would like that, young man, but I’m afraid those steps will be too much for my old knees. Is there somewhere else I can sit down?”

“There’s a lift around the other side. Wait where you are, and I’ll show you where it is.” Ty raced down the stairs, annoying a number of spectators in the process, despite the calls of “Sorry” as he pushed past them. He grinned when he arrived next to the old man. “The lift’s back this way.”

A few minutes later, the two were in the old elevator in the southeast corner of the grandstand. “Did you come here to watch Dad play?” Ty asked.

Patrick snorted. “I’m more here to watch my boys, but I won’t mind seeing your dad play in person. It’s not the same on video.”

“Ah...that’s right. The Northern Blues are affiliated with Carlton.” Ty grinned. “I hope you know that they’re going to lose.”

“Don’t be too cocky, young man. The game’s not over until the final siren.”

Ty’s grin vanished as he dropped his head. “Yeah, I know.” He looked up as the lift jolted to a stop. “We’re here. Were you meeting someone, or would you like to sit with a few fanatical Leopard supporters?” Ty’s smile returned. “You might be taking your life into your own hands wearing that jacket, though.”

Patrick chuckled as he glanced down at the Carlton Football Club top he was wearing. “At my age, I’m taking my life in my own hands just getting up in the morning.” He smiled. “I’d love to join you and your friends if you can put up with an old Irishman for a couple of hours.”

Ty grinned. “I’ll manage, and I’m sure I can convince everyone else to do the same. Follow me.” He headed off but stopped after a few paces and looked back to where Patrick was shuffling forward. “Oops, sorry.”

Patrick chuckled. “Nothing to be sorry about. I’m not as mobile as I’d like; I have to live with that. That’s got nothing to do with you.”

A few minutes later, Ty helped Patrick ease himself into one of the grandstand seats. “Everyone, this is Mr. O’Malley from the Carlton Football Club. I met him when Dad and I went to Visy Park last month.”

Patrick took in the quick round of introductions: three young girls – Clarissa, Stacey, Helena – and an older adult, Bruce, with his son Liam. “I’ll apologise now, but at my age I have a problem with remembering names.” He smiled at Liam. “Yours will be easy, though. I have a grandson with that name.”

“Would you like something to drink?” Ty asked as he took the seat next to Patrick. “I’ll get it. You just sit there and relax.”

“You remind me of Christopher, my assistant. He’s always doing things like that for me. Just water if it’s not too much trouble.” Patrick smiled.

Ty grinned. “I’ll be back soon.” He leapt up and raced off.

Patrick gave a snort of laughter. He saw Bruce Bellweather raise an eyebrow. Patrick gave him a smile. “They’re all so energetic these days. The young people never sit still.”

Bruce chuckled. “They’re not all like that. My other son likes to sit behind a computer screen all day.”

The two chatted amiably until Ty returned. While they waited for the game to start, Patrick learnt a little about each of the young people, including the fact that two of them, Clarissa and Liam, were there to support a school friend of theirs who was one of the runners, while Stacey and Helena were girlfriends of a couple of the players.

Just before the match started, they were joined by two mature-aged adults. “G’day, brat!” As Ty waved a hand in acknowledgement, the woman turned to Patrick. “Hi, I’m Anne Flintlock, and this is Jonathan, my husband.”

Patrick smiled up at them. “I’m Patrick O’Malley. I know it’s rude to stay seated while a pretty young lady is standing, but I’ll plead for forgiveness on account of my age.”

Anne laughed, and Jonathan grinned as they took the seats next to Patrick. “For that compliment, you can get away with anything. From the comment and accent, I’d also guess that you kissed the Blarney Stone when you were younger.”

“True, but that was in the deep and distant past when I was an idealistic and foolish young man.” Patrick glanced at Ty and the rest of the group seated on the other side before returning his attention to Anne. “Ty warned me that I’d be sitting with some fanatical Leopard supporters, but I didn’t think I’d end up surrounded.”

Ty interrupted. “You’ll be fine. Just tell anyone who says anything that you’re with me, and they’ll leave you alone. They’ll all know that you’ve already been punished enough, and they won’t have to do anything more.” He grinned past Patrick. “Isn’t that right, Anne?”

Anne rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner. “Sadly, it’s all too true.”

Ty leant over and spoke in an overly loud whisper. “Anne’s the club’s financial controller. I have to be nice to her or I don’t get paid.”

Anne chuckled. “Brat.”

Patrick gave him a smile to acknowledge the information. He wondered why she and her husband were sitting with the young folk when there were still a reasonable number of empty seats around the grandstand.

* * *

The Northern Blues midfielder spun to his left, but that didn’t prevent Dave from tackling him. The two fell to the muddy ground, the football bouncing away. Both scrambled to their feet to chase it, but Charlie sprinted forward and scooped it up before they were close. He turned and looked down the ground for a target.

Not seeing anyone free, Charlie started to run. He kept an eye out for opponents as he headed towards the Leopard goal posts. He was still about sixty metres away when he saw Jim break free to his right. Charlie immediately turned and kicked the ball across the ground to his teammate.

Jim took an easy mark on the chest. Over the course of the quarter, the football had acquired a layer of mud and moisture that made it slippery, and Jim made sure he had a firm grip as he took a couple of quick steps and kicked the ball to Oliver on the right-hand side of the ground. He followed up by racing down the middle, trying to both pull defenders away from the Leopard forwards but also to give his teammate another target for the ball.

Oliver hadn’t waited for a set shot from his mark but had handballed the football to Deon. This turned out to be a mistake, as Deon was tackled from behind before he could act, causing the football to spill free. Oliver raced for the loose ball, but a Northern Blues defender was there first. The ball was immediately kicked back down the ground in an attempt to relieve the offensive pressure the Leopards were applying to the Blues.

Unfortunately for the Northern Blues, the undirected kick headed towards Dave and his opponent. Dave’s solid slam into his foe’s side as they raced for the loose ball made his opponent slip, giving Dave an easy pickup which he handballed to Charlie. Charlie delivered a stab pass to Jim, who spun around and kicked the ball long towards the goal. The ball fell short and to the side, but Deon was there, taking a diving mark just before the football hit the ground.

As a mud-covered Deon picked himself up, the half-time siren sounded. Deon would have the last kick of the quarter. He took his time. It was a sharp angle, with very little space visible between the two goal posts. Lining himself up, he focused his attention on where he wanted the football to go. With a deliberate, purposeful stride, he accelerated forward and kicked the ball. He didn’t need the goal umpire’s signal to know he’d nailed it for his third goal of the match.

The Leopards went into the half-time break with their lead extended by another six points.

* * *

Ty was celebrating the goal with his friends when he noticed Mr. O’Malley frowning down at the players leaving the ground. “Sorry, but I told you that they were going to lose.”

Patrick snorted and smiled up at Ty. “The match isn’t over yet, young man. But can you do me a favour and tell me who that is?” He pointed down at one of the Leopards jogging to the change room.

Ty glanced over and then turned back to the old man. “That’s Dave. Why?”

“Just interested. That last goal was his as far as I’m concerned.”

It was Ty’s turn to frown. “Deon was the one who kicked it.”

“But if it wasn’t for your friend Dave’s efforts, he wouldn’t have had the chance. He started the play with his tackle and then kept the play alive with his well-timed bump of his opponent. Smart, strong work.”

“Dave’s a tough guy. We’ve had teams that refuse to kick the ball through that side of the midfield, simply because he’s there.” Ty grinned. “I’ve had enough bruises from him during training to appreciate how they feel.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “I thought you played as either a forward or defender. What were you doing training against a midfielder?”

“Dave and Dad are our two strongest taggers. The coaches have had them tagging me and Deon since Roger was injured so we’d get used to the experience. They said we’ll be tagged in matches because, with Roger out, that puts most of the goal-scoring pressure on us.” Ty shrugged. “To be honest, it’ll be mainly on Deon. He’s the stronger forward, as you’ve seen today.”

“He’s good, I’ll concede, though I’ve seen better.” Mr. O’Malley chuckled. “But not that many. I’m going to have to find out why he wasn’t drafted last year.”

Ty’s mouth was suddenly dry. He had a question on his lips that he couldn’t ask.

Mr. O’Malley continued, his gaze still on the players departing the oval. “A strong forward with his accuracy should’ve been picked up by someone. He’s a little short for a key forward position, but there’s no doubting his effectiveness.”

“He wasn’t as accurate at the start of the season. Julie’s been working with him, and it’s made a huge difference.”

Patrick glanced across. “Julie?”

“One of our assistant coaches. She’s the one who’s been working to get Dad and me to improve our endurance. She only started with the Leopards this year. For the last couple of seasons she was the head coach of the Broncos.”

Patrick nodded slowly. “A strong, district-level team. They’ve got some promising youngsters in their junior teams, though it’s still too early to say if they’ve got the right mix of skills and abilities to make it to the AFL.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s my job.” Mr. O’Malley grinned at Ty. “I’m part of the early-development-talent team. We keep an eye on the youngsters so we can see who’s a likely prospect for the AFL. That means looking at lots of games of junior football. I’m only a minor part of the team because I’m not able to get out to games very much, but I do a lot of reviews off video footage.”

“What about VFL games?” Ty mentally crossed his fingers.

“Those, too. But I have to say that it’s much harder to make it to the AFL by that means. Did you see the pathways report from the AFL back in May?”

“No. What was it about?”

Patrick gave Ty a contemplative stare before replying. “The AFL had commissioned a report on the various pathways for getting new talent into the competition. The main pathway is the junior competition and the associated national carnival that highlights the best players each year. The state competitions such as the VFL are another pathway, but the report acknowledged that there are fewer resources available in those competitions for player development. That means if you take two equal players, draft one into the AFL and put the other into a state competition, the one in the AFL will develop more than the other. That makes it difficult, but not impossible, for someone in the state competitions to rise up enough to be noticed, let alone being able to compete for a spot in the draft.”

“Deon’s near the top of the scorer’s table in the VFL. After this game, he’ll probably head it.” Ty grinned. “That’ll make people notice him.”

“Not as much as you might think.” Patrick shrugged. “Though that could just be me. I don’t usually pay too much attention to things like that. The number of goals scored doesn’t tell me how often they worked to get the ball or how often their teammates did all the work and the forward just finished it off. It’s true that someone at the top of the goal-kicking tally is going to be good, but there are also talented forwards that aren’t there because their teammates can’t get them the ball.” He nodded to the now largely empty oval. “As I said before, I would personally assign that last goal to Dave, since he set it up. Deon did his job – and did it well, I have to say – but he’s at the end of a chain. The entire chain contributes, and the person who starts the chain is just as important as the one who ends it, maybe more so.”

Ty nodded slowly as he absorbed the lesson. It was a different way of saying the same thing that Jim had been drilling into him: that it was the team that was important, not the individual.

* * *

“Ty seems fine. Do you still want to sit with him for the second half?” Jonathan asked as he and Anne stood in line to grab a coffee from the clubroom.

“If you don’t mind.” Anne smiled at her husband. “I’m curious as to why the brat is so friendly with someone from the Carlton Football Club.”

“Didn’t he go there last month with Jim? He probably met Mr. O’Malley then.”

“That much I’ve guessed, but that looks like more than just a passing acquaintanceship. I heard that someone at Carlton arranged for the brat to train alongside Dad, and I’m wondering if it’s the brat’s guest.”

“You could ask.” Jonathan grinned. “But then I suspect that would be too easy.”

Anne chuckled. “Also, it’s probably none of my business, and that’s what I’ll be told. It’s more fun to speculate and see if I can work it out for myself.”

“Good luck with that, because I don’t think you’ll learn anything without asking questions.” Jonathan cocked his head. “I thought it was us guys who were supposed to be the ones averse to asking for help?”

“Just for that, you can pay for your own coffee.” Anne grinned. “This is just something to keep my mind occupied. The main purpose was to make sure the brat was okay. He didn’t look good after our loss to Port Melbourne two weeks ago, and I didn’t want to see him go through that again.”

* * *

Peter glared around the room. “I don’t care that we’re four goals up. I don’t care if we end up twenty goals up. You do not stop trying!” He paused to allow his words to sink in. “Last month we almost let Essendon back in the game. You thought we were far enough ahead. There’s no such thing! As your coach, I may take advantage of a lead to experiment or give players some more experience, but that’s my call, not yours. You don’t stop until that final siren sounds.”

He knew he had the undivided attention of the players. He had seen the first hints that some players were beginning to coast, and he didn’t want to give that mindset a chance to settle.

“When we go back out there, I want you to play as if we need every goal, every point. With the last two losses, we may. I’m still aiming for a top-four finish – that will make the finals easier for us – but getting there may come down to percentages, and at the moment ours is crap. So we go for broke.” Peter turned to Deon. “The Blues have been trying to tag you. They’ll almost certainly try again with someone else. Use it. Make them run. Make them chase you all around the forward line. If they don’t keep up, go for broke. If they do, make sure you’re dragging defenders away from your teammates.

“Dave, I want you in the centre. The Blues prefer to take the ball up the central corridor; shut it down. Jarrod, you’ve got the near wing, and Dad’s got the other. Charlie, you’re pushing forward. I want you and Ollie to go out there and run their defenders ragged. Owen, you’re up there, too. Let’s make them panic so they don’t know who to defend against.”

Peter continued to use the rest of the half-time break to give detailed instructions to the players. He finished with a smile. “I want a clinical demolition of the opposition, guys. Our target is to win by at least ten goals. I don’t care what the final scoreboard shows, if it’s not at least a ten-goal margin, I’ll consider it a loss. Don’t disappoint me.”

After the team shouted encouragement to each other, building up the energy, the players ran out onto the oval. Peter was about to follow when he was stopped by a touch on his arm from Julie.

“You’re pushing them hard,” she said.

Peter heard the unspoken question, so he explained why. “In the last three matches they showed signs that they’re not finishing the games. It’s not because they’re not fit; it’s the way they’re thinking. Finals are only seven weeks away. They’re not going to get through them if we don’t snap them out of that attitude.

“Collingwood next week is going to be the litmus test. If we beat them, we should make it into the top four. Given our general lack of finals experience, that will give us a second chance if we lose our first game. Otherwise, we’ll be facing elimination in every game in the finals series. I’d rather be one of those top four and either win – cross my fingers – or still have that second chance. Unless we refocus the team on the end result, there’s too much chance we’ll bow out of the finals quickly.”

“The brat will be back next week. That’ll make a difference,” Julie said.

Peter shook his head. “He can’t carry the team. They need to be able to fight without him, and what he then does is push us to the next level. He can’t take us there by himself.”

“I understand.” Julie frowned. “If you’re going to make Deon run, I’ll tell him that he needs to join the brat and Dad on their Tuesday runs. I’m not happy with his endurance levels.” She glanced at Will. “If that’s okay with you.”

Will smiled. “We’ll discuss it later. I still need him for some things, but maybe he can join in with them part way.”

Peter scowled. “Worry about that after the game. We need to focus on the now as well as the future.”

* * *

“You’re a cruel host, brat. The least you could’ve done is leave my boys with a smidgeon of self-respect.” Patrick O’Malley grinned to show he wasn’t serious.

Ty shrugged. “A win’s a win, and a loss is a loss. Does it really matter that it was by more than eleven goals?”

“I suppose not.” Patrick painfully levered himself upright. “Time to head home. Is there a taxi rank nearby?”

Ty frowned. “There is, but won’t you stay for a bit? I want to introduce you to a few people. I’ll take you home, if you like.”

“I live in Carlton, not far from Visy Park. It’s a long way, young man.”

Ty grinned. “It’ll be my pleasure. I don’t have anything else planned for tonight, so taking you home won’t be a problem at all.”

“Then I accept.” Patrick scowled at the handful of steps he would have to endure to reach the lift. “I might need a drink before we leave, anyway.”

Ty looked past Patrick and raised his voice. “Anne?”

Anne Flintlock had been about to depart with her husband. “What is it, brat?”

“Can you take Liam, his father, and the girls down to the change room? I promised, but I need to help Mr. O’Malley back to the clubroom.”

Anne smiled. “Sure thing. You go, and we’ll catch up with you later.”

After explaining the change of plans to the others, Ty escorted Patrick to the lift and then to the clubroom. “Can I get you that drink you mentioned?” Ty smiled. “Something stronger than water, maybe?”

“On the remote chance that the bar stocks Guinness, I’ll have that. Otherwise, any sort of beer, though the darker the better.” Patrick eased himself into a chair as he watched Ty acknowledge the order and head to the bar.

While he waited, Patrick scanned the room. There were a handful of Northern Blues supporters, but the vast majority of people present appeared to be Leopards supporters or were not showing their allegiances by wearing club apparel. He spotted Anne and Jonathan Flintlock talking to a couple of older men, but he didn’t recognise anyone else. Standing near the bar with a young woman, a toddler, and a very young girl was a muscular, tall, red-headed man in his mid-twenties who looked vaguely familiar to Patrick. He was wearing a Leopards tracksuit, and Patrick guessed that was Roger, the Leopards captain and former Carlton football player. Ty had told him that Roger had been injured but was nearing the end of his rehabilitation.

Given the connection with his football club, Patrick wasn’t surprised when Ty returned a couple of minutes later with Roger in tow. “Mr. O’Malley, this is Roger McDowell, our captain.”

Roger smiled. “G’day. I don’t know if you remember me, but I played for the Blues a few years ago.

Patrick smiled back. “I thought you looked familiar. I was wondering if you still had any loyalty to your old club, but I think today’s result answers that question. Even though you didn’t play, you don’t seem particularly downcast.”

Roger laughed. “I’ve got a soft spot for Carlton, but the Leopards have my loyalty now. I don’t mind the Blues winning, except when they play the Leopards.”

Ty spotted someone at the far end of the room. “I’ll be back soon.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow at Ty’s sudden departure. “The brat’s an active one.”

Roger’s gaze followed Ty. “He is. He’s a good guy, though. Picking him up at the start of the season was the best thing that could’ve happened to the Leopards.” Roger smiled as he turned back to the old man. “I should warn you that he’s already adopted one person. It looks like you might be next on his list.”

“Adopted?” Patrick gave Roger a quizzical look.

Roger glanced around. “Neil’s not here yet, but the brat’s one of the guys looking after our young runner, Neil Rosewood. In case you don’t remember, he’s the kid who was on TV back in May after running away from home. Todd and the brat are making sure Neil has a place to stay and that he finishes school. More importantly, the brat is making sure that Neil has friends.”

Patrick thought for a moment. “The kid with the bastards as parents? The one whose father hit him?”

“That’s the one, though it looks like Neil’s parents are starting to come around. He went to see them yesterday. The brat and Ollie went with him to make sure he was safe.”

Mr. O’Malley didn’t ask who Ollie was, but instead made a mental note to add the information Roger had supplied to Ty’s record back at his office. “What can you tell me about young Bradshaw?”

Roger glanced around before he responded. He also lowered his voice. “I remember who you work for, Mr. O’Malley. Is it okay to tell Deon you’re asking about him?”

Patrick pulled a face. “You can, but you probably shouldn’t. I was impressed with his performance today, which is why I’m curious, but I can’t say there will be any serious follow-up. We’re not looking for another forward at this time.”

Roger nodded. “Deon’s another good guy. He shares a house with the brat, Ryan, and Dad. That’s Jim Henderson. He was decent at the start of the season, but over the last few weeks his game has really picked up.” Roger gave a self-deprecating smile. “From the time I became injured, in fact. If there’s one good thing that came out of that, it’s Deon stepping up to the challenge. I think that when I’m playing again and back to full match fitness, the two of us will cause the other teams a lot of problems.”

Ty returned at that point, accompanied by a broad-shouldered young blond male. “Mr. O’Malley, this is Tony. Tony’s Dad’s better half. If you want to know more about Dad outside of football, Tony’s the one to ask.”

Patrick chuckled at Ty’s enthusiasm, and his rather heavy-handed suggestion. “Pleased to meet you, Tony. I’ll admit I was surprised you didn’t join Jim and the brat at the training session last month.”

Tony smiled. “I would’ve been there, but Jim didn’t want me. He was trying to avoid causing a disruption by having lots of people there for him rather than for the Blues.”

“He’s very considerate. He’s always thinking of the team.” Ty grinned. “In this case, it was your team he was thinking of.”

Patrick waved a hand dismissively. “Away, brat. You’ve done your job – and rather well, too – but now I’d like to talk with Tony and Roger in private.”

“No problem. I’ll go chase up what’s keeping Neil and the others.”

Patrick smiled at Ty’s back as he headed off. “He’ll never make a good salesman. He doesn’t know when to stop pushing.”

Tony grinned. “But if you need someone to be pushed, he’s the guy to do it. He doesn’t give up.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “That sort of attitude can rub people the wrong way.”

Roger shook his head. “The way Tony said it doesn’t give the right impression. The brat’s focus is on his friends and his teammates. He’ll do whatever it takes to help them. He might come over at times as if everything is about him, but it doesn’t take much to realise that his focus is generally on others.”

Patrick filed that observation in the back of his mind. It was time to divert attention. “Like his dad? He’s rather keen that Carlton picks up Jim in the next draft. What’s your opinion? Is Henderson up to it?”

Roger gnawed at his lower lip, and his brow wrinkled. It was several seconds before he responded. “The AFL’s tough. It takes a certain mindset to make it there. I failed in that respect; I couldn’t handle recovering from injury, the weeks without playing. I’m finally over that, but it’s too late for me. I think Jim deserves a chance, and I believe he’s got the mental toughness to go the distance. His skills are good and are still improving. Yes, he’s up to it.” Roger grinned. “So are a few of the others on the team, too, in case you’re interested.”

Patrick turned to Tony. “Mental toughness.... What’s your thoughts? He’ll be under a lot of pressure if he’s picked, simply because he’s gay.”

Like Roger, Tony took his time answering. “Unless there’s a closeted player on the team, none of his teammates will understand what it’s like. They might think they do, but they won’t. But if Jim’s got their support, he’ll not only survive, but he’ll thrive. If he doesn’t have that support, I don’t know. He might make it, or the extra strain from internal team issues might be too much.” Tony shrugged. “I want him to have the chance to prove what he’s capable of, but he’s my boyfriend. I don’t want him hurt, either. If Carlton won’t support him, don’t pick him. Otherwise, you’re just being cruel. But if he’s picked, I’ll be there all the way, helping him in whatever way I can.”

Patrick nodded slowly. Both guys had given him some things to think about.