Leopard Spots - 50. Chapter 50

Peter glared around the meeting room. “Tomorrow is the last game of the home-and-away season. We’re playing Geelong, the team that beat us back in April.”

He paused as he took in the demeanour of the assembled players. The Leopards were heading into the match after two good wins against Sandringham and Werribee, while several of the other teams in the lower half of the eight had had losses in the preceding weeks, allowing the Leopards to creep up the ladder. There was an aura of optimism that Peter didn’t mind, but it was the complacency that accompanied that optimism that had him concerned.

“I heard someone say tonight that it didn’t really matter if we win or lose tomorrow, our position on the ladder is secure. To shift us from sixth to seventh place, it would take North Ballarat to defeat Port Melbourne – which is unlikely – and for us to lose; we’d still end up playing the same team in next week’s final.” The final series had fifth playing eighth and sixth playing seventh in the first week of elimination finals.

Peter scowled and leant forward to emphasise his words. “I say that’s bullshit! Mathematically, it might be true, but that doesn’t take into account what’s going on in here,” he tapped his head, “or here,” he said, placing his hand on his heart.

“We’re going to have a tough finals series, and if we go into it with the attitude that it doesn’t matter if we lose...then we’ve lost before we’ve even begun!” He paused momentarily, quietly pleased that several players had stiffened, and the lazy smiles had disappeared completely.

“Tomorrow, when we go out there,” he pointed to the oval outside where they had just finished training, “we’re going out there to win. We’re going out there to show our supporters and sponsors what we can do for them. We’re going out there to show the other teams in the finals that we’re a force to be reckoned with. We’re going out there to show them what a team that’s hungry for a premiership looks like. We’re going out there as Leopards!”

Peter let the resulting cheers die down. He allowed a faint smile onto his face. “Okay, guys, tomorrow is a warm-up for the finals. Use it to get ready. We’ll be meeting either Werribee or North Ballarat in the first week, depending on how their games go this weekend. If it’s Werribee, we defeated them last week, and we can do it again. If it’s North Ballarat, we’ll be after revenge for our loss three weeks ago just like we’re after revenge tomorrow for our loss back in April. Get yourselves into the right mindset, because you’re going to discover that finals are different. Our preparation starts now.”

He went through the game plan with the players one more time, highlighting matchups that would be taking place to contain the key Geelong players.

“Okay, that’s it for now. Get a good night’s sleep, everyone. Roger, brat, I’ll see you in my office in five minutes. Deon, don’t speed on your way to the airport. We don’t want you having an accident.” Peter caught his young forward’s eye and received a sheepish response. Peter knew Deon was eager to pick up Sam and Marcus.

Peter stopped to have a word with a couple of the players before heading to his office. While he waited for his captain and vice-captain to arrive, Peter mentally ran through his checklist of things to discuss.

Fifteen minutes later, he was finishing up with Roger and Ty. Roger was one of the few players on the team that had previous finals experience, and they had been exploring how to impart that knowledge to the other players.

“Okay, anything else?” Peter asked.

“Nothing from me,” Roger said.

Ty frowned. “That person who made the comment about tomorrow’s game not mattering – who was it? Do we need to talk to him?”

Peter hesitated. “It’s not important. It’s been dealt with.”

“But if someone has the wrong attitude...”

Roger chuckled. “No one has the wrong attitude, brat. Think about it...who have you noticed who isn’t taking tomorrow’s game seriously?”

“No one; that’s why I’m concerned.” Ty’s eyes narrowed as he turned to Peter. “Or did you make that up, just to try to get the team focused?”

Peter drummed his fingers on his desk as he thought quickly about how much he should reveal. “No, I didn’t make it up. The person in question didn’t mean that we didn’t have to try. He was just making an observation without realising how others around him could take it.”

“That should be enough for you to work it out.” Roger smiled as he leant back in his chair and watched Ty. “You need to know your teammates, brat. Know how they think and how they’ll act. So...who was it?”

Ty sat for a few seconds, his brow creased. He then looked up. “Charlie. That’s the way his mind works. He was looking at it from a mathematical viewpoint and didn’t consider the psychological side.”

“Correct.” Peter gave Ty a hard stare. “I’ve already spoken to him, and he’s already apologised. Leave him alone. There’s no need to mention it to him.”

Ty held up both hands in surrender. “That’s fine with me. I wouldn’t want to come down hard on him, anyway. He’s got more than enough on his plate just handling Dave.”

* * *

“Charlie, can you look at something for me?” Dave asked.

Charlie had been busy doing his university homework when Dave came into his bedroom. Charlie knew that he needed to be focused on his football the next day, and so he wanted to get as much work as possible done that Friday night. He smiled up at his housemate. “Sure. I need a break, anyway.” He glanced at his phone; it was almost midnight. “Make that it’s time I stopped for the night.” Peter wasn’t strict about curfews, but Charlie knew he should’ve already been getting ready for bed.

Dave handed over an envelope. Charlie frowned and then opened it up. Inside was a neatly printed letter. The letterhead told Charlie that it was from Dave’s psychologist. The salutation was simply: To whom it may concern. That had Charlie wondering about its purpose.

It didn’t take him long to realise what the letter was about or who it was meant for. His eyes opened wide, and he stared at Dave. “This is...”

Dave didn’t meet his gaze. “It’s something we’ve been working on for the last couple of weeks. It was either this or telling the AFL I was pulling out of the combine.”

Charlie glanced again at the letter that stated that Dave had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, that it had been untreated for twelve years, and described some of the consequences of the condition, such as being unable to use communal showers and difficulty with personal relationships. It didn’t state what had caused the PTSD, but it did mention that he’d had one psychotic incident, and that while the long term prognosis was promising, he would require continuing treatment for some time. It gave Dave’s psychologist’s contact details if more information was required.

“I don’t understand.” Charlie looked back up. “Why would you pull out of the combine, and why do you need this letter?”

It was the first time in three weeks that Charlie had heard Dave mention his invitation to the state-based draft camp. When the news broke, Dave’s frosty silence, along with Peter’s stern admonishment, had stifled any attempt to congratulate him. At the time, Dave’s only comment was to Charlie, and that was merely a statement that he didn’t want to discuss the topic. Charlie had let the rest of the team know, and the subject had been dropped.

Dave grimaced. “Because it was driving me crazy!” He gave a self-deprecating snort of laughter. “Or rather, more crazy.” He finally met Charlie’s eye. His expression was distraught. “I’m not supposed to get stressed, but that’s what the combine is doing to me. They’ll want to access my medical record, but will that destroy any hope I’ve got? I couldn’t handle it. I’ve been put back on some anti-psychotic drugs just in case, because I was getting stressed out worrying.” He nodded to the piece of paper in Charlie’s hand. “That’s the compromise. I want to email that to the AFL so they can send it to any teams interested. My doctor has promised that only registered psychologists will be given access to the full details.”

Charlie sighed as a fresh wave of anger at the person who had done this to Dave swept through him. Dave had a chance – a slim chance, but it was still a chance – at getting into the AFL, but one night back when he was eleven was in danger of ruining it.

“What do you need from me?”

Dave gave him a wan smile. “If you think it’s okay, can you scan that in and send it to me? I’ll forward it on.”

“No problem.” Charlie turned to his computer and placed the letter into his printer and selected the scan option. As the paper fed its way through, he had an idea. “Dave, we don’t know who is going to read the email you send through. While it doesn’t say everything, the letter has a lot of detail that shouldn’t be shared with anyone who doesn’t need to know.”

Dave winced. “I realised that, but what else can I do?”

“How about before I email it to you, I encrypt the file? In your email, you can tell them to have a doctor contact you for the password. That way you know that it’ll be an appropriate person who gets to read it first, and they can determine who else gets to see it.”

Dave screwed up his face and then nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Charlie.”

A few minutes, the letter was scanned, encrypted, and sent to Dave’s email account. Charlie told Dave the password he’d chosen – ‛Go Leopards’, which raised a genuine smile from Dave for a moment – and then watched as Dave left the room.

There were times that Charlie wished that Dave would open up and trust some of his other teammates, but he was glad that Dave had one person he would talk to. Charlie knew that no matter what trials and troubles he personally encountered, Dave was going through worse. Charlie just wished that wasn’t the case.

* * *

“Sam, Marcus! It’s good to see you again.” Matt was grinning as he joined the two guys in the grandstand overlooking the Leopards home ground.

“G’day, Matt.” Sam glanced around. “Where’s Gary?”

“Getting the drinks. One can’t yell one’s throat raw supporting the Leopards if one’s throat is dry at the start of the game.”

Marcus chuckled. “And that’s your story, and you’re sticking to it.”

“Exactly!” Matt did a quick scan of the nearby seats. “Is Mandy coming today?”

Sam grinned. “Of course. There’s no way she’d miss it. I got a text from her saying she was running late. Jordan couldn’t find his Leopards top, and he didn’t want to be here without it.” He nodded down towards the fence where his daughter was standing. “Teresa is here. She said she’ll be up to join us after the players run out.”

“Are you guys flying down next week, too?” Matt asked.

Marcus nodded. “As long as the Leopards are in the finals, we’ll be here.” He grinned at Sam before returning his attention to Matt. “With how well the team was doing earlier in the season, we started putting some money aside to pay for the trips. I don’t mind admitting that I enjoy the games when I’m here.”

Matt grimaced for a moment. “That slump in June and July has cost them. It’ll be an uphill battle from here to make it to the grand final.”

“I hope they do.” Sam sighed. “Deon’s had a great season, and it’ll really top things off if they go all the way.”

Matt snorted. “Deon’s had more than a great season. Unless a miracle happens elsewhere, he’s won the Frosty Miller Medal, and I think he’s a good chance for the Fothergill-Round Medal, too.”

“The what medals?” Marcus looked at Sam who shrugged to show his ignorance.

Matt grinned. “Okay, I’m showing off. I didn’t know them either until I went looking. The Jim ‛Frosty’ Miller Medal is the VFL’s equivalent of the AFL’s Coleman Medal. I knew they had to have one, but I had to look up what it was called.” When Marcus still stared blankly, Matt chuckled. “That’s for the leading goal-kicker of the season. Deon’s far enough ahead that I can’t see him missing out.”

“And the other one?” Marcus asked. “The Something-Round Medal?”

“Fothergill-Round. That’s for the most promising young talent.” Matt winked. “He has to be up there for that one, given his performance on the forward line. From what I’ve read, one criterion is a player who they think can make it in the AFL.”

Sam winced. “Deon’s trying to avoid that conversation. He says he wants to focus on the here-and-now, not the future. He’ll worry about the draft after the season’s over.”

“That’s okay. We’ll do the worrying for him until he’s ready to take over.” Matt glanced to the side and smiled. “About bloody time! What did you have to do, brew the beers yourself?”

Gary shrugged. “Why don’t I pour one over your head and see if you can tell?” He was carrying four cans.

“Now, now. No need for that. Alcohol abuse is a very serious matter, and I wouldn’t want you to be found guilty.” Matt accepted the first beer and immediately handed it to Marcus. “Here you are.”

“But...” Marcus took the can, while looking consternated as Matt passed the next beer onto Sam.

Gary grinned. “We saw you sitting here before I went to the bar.”

Marcus smiled. “Well, thanks.” Sam echoed the sentiment as he lifted his drink in salute.

“Has Matt talked about next weekend yet?” Gary asked as he sat down.

“I was just leading up to it,” Matt said testily. He turned to Sam and Marcus and smiled. “Have you booked everything for your next trip yet?”

“Just the flights. Deon was trying to find someone who’d put us up for the weekend.” Sam chuckled. “He knows how much these trips are costing us, and he wants to make sure we’ll have enough money for the entire finals series, just in case they make it to the grand final.”

“Excellent and congratulations! We’re here to tell you that Deon’s found someone.” Matt grinned.

“Who?” Marcus glanced at Sam who also seemed puzzled. “He hadn’t when he spoke to us last night.”

“You’re staying with us.” Gary grinned. “That way we can all go to the match together. It’ll be down our neck of the woods, anyway, in Port Melbourne.”

“But...” Sam’s jaw had dropped. He shook his head. “No, we can’t ask you to do that for us.”

Matt gave him a mock-scowl. “I see. Staying with some other Leopards supporter is good enough, but staying with us is not?”

“I didn’t mean it that way!”

Matt grinned. “Then it’s all settled. Given the Leopards position on the ladder, the match will be next Sunday, so we’ll arrange for you to be collected on Friday night and then find you a car for the Saturday. We’re assuming you’d like to drive up here to see Deon and the rest of your family.”

Sam and Marcus exchanged looks, and then Marcus shrugged. Sam smiled at Matt and Gary. “Thanks for this. We really appreciate it. The only reservation I’ve got is whether Deon wants to pick us up from the airport. He usually does.”

Matt chuckled. “If he wants to, that’s fine. We’ll talk to him after the game to finalise the details.”

* * *

“Yes!” Clarissa, Karen, Stacey, and Helena all chorused as Charlie kicked his first goal of the match. It had come after a turnover when Paul had smothered a kick from one of the Geelong players and Jarrod had quickly gathered up the loose ball. A sequence of lightning-quick kicks had fed the football up the ground through Jim and Dave, and finally to where Charlie had run into the forward line, having left his opponent behind when he sprinted from the midfield.

Stacey smiled as she glanced up at the scoreboard. “Just under three goals in front.”

“And Charlie put them there.” Karen gave her university friend a quick hug. “He’s playing well.”

Helena chuckled. “They all are. Ollie was telling me that it’s been a few years since the Leopards have made the finals, and they want to finish the regular season with a big win. They’re already looking ahead to next week’s elimination final.”

“They’re certainly on track for that win, but there’s still a lot of the game to go.” Clarissa glanced down to the front of the grandstand where Liam was leaning over the front barrier shouting encouragement, though she couldn’t help notice that it was also very close to where Neil was standing. “Liam always hated anyone predicting the end of one of his games until the match was over.”

Karen looked thoughtful. “I’ve never asked Ty his opinion on the subject. I don’t suppose he has one; his focus is always on what’s happening around him when he’s out there, and he couldn’t care less what happens off the field.”

“Excuse me,” a familiar masculine voice interrupted.

The girls turned to see Tony standing there with a grey-haired man in a nondescript jacket. Despite the hair colour, the man appeared to be in his thirties. Both guys were smiling.

Karen stood up and gave Tony a quick kiss. “I thought you were sitting with the sponsors.”

“I was, but Isaac here wanted to be introduced to Clarissa, so I brought him over.” Tony grinned. “Isaac, this is Clarissa. Clarissa, Isaac’s from the Hawthorn Football Club.”

Clarissa gave them a quizzical look to fill in time while her mind started racing. Isaac would be the second AFL recruiter to speak to her since she had started dating Deon. “Pleased to meet you,” she said.

Isaac smiled. “I won’t bother you now, but I was hoping to catch up with you at halftime if that’s okay with you.”

She smiled at the consideration. “Thank you. Yes, that’ll be fine. I should be around here somewhere.”

Isaac nodded to the other girls. “Sorry to interrupt. Enjoy the game!” He smiled again at Clarissa. “I’ll see you soon.”

Once Isaac and Tony were gone, Clarissa found herself under the focused gaze of Karen, Helena and Stacey. “Okay, what’s going on?” Karen asked.

Clarissa shrugged. “I don’t know how they found out, but some of the AFL clubs know that Deon and I are dating. I suspect Isaac wants to talk to me about him.”

“How much football knowledge does he think you’ve got?” Karen asked.

Clarissa snorted. “The last club didn’t talk to me about football, which is lucky or I’d’ve ended up making a big fool of myself. No, they were interested in what sort of person Deon is.” She shrugged. “I’m guessing this guy will want to do the same.”

“Things are getting serious, then.” Helena grinned. “Good for him, and good for you!”

Stacey raised an eyebrow. “You said the last club. How many clubs have spoken to you?”

“Just the one so far.” Clarissa pulled a face. “I was petrified the whole time that I was going to ruin Deon’s career for him.”

“Ouch.” Karen winced. “Do you think it went well?”

“I don’t know. It depends on what they were after.” Clarissa sighed as she stared out over the oval where Geelong was back in attack but having trouble penetrating the Leopard defence. “I decided the simplest and best option was to be guardedly honest.”

“Ty told me that last year lots of AFL clubs questioned his family and teachers, as well as his coaches and himself.” Karen turned back to face the oval. “It seems like they do this sort of thing a lot.”

“What sort of questions did they ask everyone?”

Karen chuckled. “Ty doesn’t know. He was only interested in the ones they asked him that were to do with football. He said they asked him about his family and friends, but he can’t remember what he told them because he didn’t think it was important.”

“That doesn’t sound like Ty.” Clarissa frowned. “I haven’t known him for that long, but the way he’s been looking after Neil...”

“I know what you mean, but he tells me he was a lot different back then. He said until Jim sorted him out, he wasn’t the best person in the world.”

Helena grinned. “The way you said that makes it sound like he now thinks he is. The best person in the world, I mean.”

Karen smiled at the other girls. “He doesn’t. He’s the second best. Jim’s the best.”

Clarissa put on a mock scowl. “I see. So you and the rest of us are rated below him. When are you going to set him straight?”

Karen laughed. “Okay, maybe not the second best, either.” She sighed, still smiling. “I don’t think he even tries to put himself into a hierarchy. He says he’s changed and that it was for the best that I didn’t know the old him. Having met his father, I think he’s right. Anyone who had to live with that man for most of his life...” She shuddered.

Clarissa sat and thought as the four girls watched the game. There were several minutes of the ball changing hands before Geelong managed to score a goal after a long kick from outside the fifty-metre line.

“You’ve said that a lot of clubs spoke to Ty last year, but he wasn’t drafted. Does this mean that Deon mightn’t get picked this year, too?” Clarissa asked as the umpires collected the football to take it back to the centre to restart play.

Karen frowned for a moment. “Ty’s been reluctant to talk about last year too much, at least from his own perspective. He’s shared his experiences with Deon, but he won’t talk about why he didn’t get drafted. All he says is that he wasn’t good enough.”

“That’s bullshit,” Helena said. “He’s easily the best player in the team. The rest of the players all know it. He wasn’t selected by an AFL team, but it wasn’t because of a lack of playing skills.”

Karen sighed. “Yeah, I know, but he won’t accept any other reason.” She looked at Clarissa. “None of us knows what the clubs are looking for. It’s more than just football skill; the way they talk to people outside of the player and his coach shows that. Exactly what...?” She shrugged.

“So, what I say really could make a difference?” Clarissa grimaced. “I don’t know what they’re looking for, so I don’t know if I’m helping or hindering.”

“That’s about it.” Karen smiled and put a hand on Clarissa’s arm for a moment. “All we can do is wait and see what happens.”

* * *

“A good start, guys,” Peter said as he surveyed the locker room. Jackie was working on Zach’s hamstring, which was a worry. The early indication was it only some tightness and he hadn’t damaged it, but the Leopards weren’t taking any chances. “There’s still another half to go, though, and we’re going to play right through to that final siren.”

Peter turned to Ty. “Brat, we’re going to do the same as last time we played Geelong. After the initial bounce I want you to drift up to the forward line. We’ll see if we can’t get another quick couple of goals and break their spirits before they realise what happened. Jarrod, you’ll be dropping back into defence at the same time.”

Ty and Jarrod both nodded, their expressions serious. All the players had their focus on Peter – even Zach, who was lying on the portable massage table.

“Jai, you’re in the ruck until Zach’s ready. Dave, Paul, Todd, keep up the good work. Wade, your man is getting away from you at times. Get in front of him and stay there.”

Peter proceeded to hand out individual instructions until it was time to head out. As the players ran back onto the ground, Peter stepped up next to Jackie. “What’s the verdict?”

Jackie smiled as she continued to work her fingers into Zach’s leg muscles. “A few more minutes and then he’ll be good to go.”

“Excellent!” Peter smiled. “I’ll see you out there when you’re done, Zach.”

“I won’t be long,” Zach said, his voice muffled from being face down.

Peter headed out the door, his mind already working on backup plans if Zach tore his hamstring. Going into the finals with an almost injury-free team was rare. There were always a few niggling complaints that didn’t stop a player from playing but would keep him from performing at his best. It was a trade-off between giving the player time to rest and recover and keeping him playing to maintain match fitness and win games. With the finals approaching, none of the players wanted to sit out for a week.

Peter was keeping his fingers crossed that nothing serious would happen in the second half. They needed to win to prepare their mindset for the finals, but he couldn’t afford to have players hurt, either.

* * *

Isaac Long smiled. “Thanks for all your help, Clarissa. I really appreciate it. If I can ask one more question...?”

Clarissa chuckled. “Sure.” The return of the players to the oval had signalled the end of the job interview. That’s how she viewed the meeting she had with the Hawthorn recruiter, even if it was a job for Deon, not herself.

“What do you see as Deon’s priorities?”

“That’s a difficult one.” Clarissa frowned as she thought. “As I said earlier, we haven’t been dating long, so I can tell you that friends, family, and football are his priorities, but I can’t tell you in what order. Sometimes I’ve seen him put his friends first. Other times it’s football. He always tries to make time for his family, especially his father, but he squeezes the other things in, too.” She chuckled. “Most of the time, football is the priority, but not always. I don’t know how he chooses when it isn’t.”

“Thanks again. I’ll let you get back to your friends.” Isaac grinned as he put away the small pad on which he had been taking notes.

Clarissa sat for a moment longer. “Can I ask a few questions?”

Isaac hesitated. “Okay, but there are some things I can’t talk about. I’m not the one who makes the final decisions, and I don’t want to say anything that might give Deon a false impression.”

Clarissa smiled. “That’s okay, it’s not him I wanted to ask you about.”

“Oh?”

“Ty Flanders. Do you know why he wasn’t drafted last year? Everyone I’ve spoken to here is amazed he wasn’t selected.”

Isaac grimaced as he glanced down to where the players were getting into position to start the second half. “I can’t speak for the other clubs – I can’t even really speak for Hawthorn – but in the meetings I attended, no one recommended him. We all thought he was a great footballer, but he wouldn’t fit into our club.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter how brilliant a player is, football is a team sport. If he doesn’t fit into the team, if trying to slot him in causes too much disruption, then he’s not suitable. Every player we pick needs to dive in and accept the culture of our club. No one thought that Ty would do that. That’s why, despite every desire to do otherwise, no one suggested we draft him.”

“That’s not the Ty I know.” Clarissa pulled a face. “Karen tells me that he’s changed. He admits he was different last year, that he had a bad attitude. Can you take another look at him?”

Isaac smiled, but it was one of sympathy, not encouragement. “We’ve never stopped looking. Sorry, but I still can’t recommend him. Deon shows promise. Ty doesn’t, even if he is a great footballer.”

Clarissa shrugged. “I think you’re wrong, but I don’t know what you’re after.” She smiled. “Thanks for considering Deon, at least. I hope he does well.”

Isaac chuckled. “I’m sure he will. He might not get drafted, but I think there’s a good chance that someone will pick him up. If not this year, maybe next, especially if he keeps playing the way he currently is.”

* * *

“Well done, Deon.” Sam’s voice was barely audible over the raucous noises of the team’s locker-room celebrations. “Another three goals to the total.”

“Thanks Dad. Geelong played tough, but that’s good practise for us.” Deon grinned at Marcus. “Are you now convinced that Aussie Rules is the best game in the world?”

Marcus laughed. “Not yet, but I’ll agree that it’s certainly one of the better spectator sports.”

Matt stepped forward and draped an arm across Marcus’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Deon, we’re still working on him. Speaking of which, we’ve invited Sam and Marcus to stay with us next weekend. We just need to know if you want to pick them up from the airport or if you’d like us to do that?”

Deon blinked. “Er...what?”

“Next Friday.” Matt grinned. “Sam mentioned that they’re looking to cut down on how much these trips are costing, and since it’s for such a worthy cause, Gary and I decided we’ll put them up so they don’t have to worry about paying for a room. We’ll throw in breakfast, too.”

“That’s fantastic!” Deon grinned. “Thanks, guys.”

“So...Friday night. Do you want us to pick them up, or will you do it?”

“I’ll do it.” Deon shrugged sheepishly. “Next weekend is going to be hectic. The drive from the airport might be the only time I get to spend private time with Dad and Marcus.”

“Then that’s all organised.” Matt grinned at Deon. “Gary and I are just going to say hello to Jarrod, and then we’ll head off to the clubroom for some much-needed liquid refreshments. Good luck for next weekend!”

A couple of minutes later, Deon was thinking it was almost time to start stripping for the shower when Clarissa and an older gentleman approached. He smiled and leant over to give her a kiss. “Thanks for coming.”

Clarissa shrugged. “I was bored and didn’t have anywhere better to be.” She grinned as she slipped a hand around his waist. “Congratulations on the win.”

“Thanks. It was a good warmup for the finals.” Deon eyed the guy who had accompanied her.

“Isaac Long,” the man said as he stuck out a hand. “You’ve spoken to one of my colleagues from Hawthorn a couple of times, but he couldn’t make it out here today, so I’m here instead. Clarissa suggested I come down and introduce myself.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Deon shook his hand. ‘Pleased’ understated his feelings as he realised Isaac was a Hawthorn Football Club recruiter.

Clarissa grinned. “He’s been asking me questions about you, so I thought you should have a chance to set the record straight.”

Ty, who was a couple of lockers away with Karen, raised his voice. “Ignore everything Deon tells you! If you want the truth about him, come and talk to me.” He grinned broadly.

Isaac gave Ty a strange look that Deon couldn’t decipher before smiling. “I believe Ty Flanders’ nickname is the brat. It sounds appropriate.”

Deon laughed. “It is.” He beckoned to Ty. “Brat, this is Isaac Long. You’re not allowed to speak to him.”

Ty chuckled. “Too late, I already have.”

Deon hesitated. “When?”

“Last year – at the draft camp.” Ty stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you again. If you’re looking at drafting just one player from the VFL, Deon’s your man.”

Isaac’s eyebrows rose. “Not you?”

“Me? No, I’m a Leopard through and through.” Ty smiled in a melancholy way as he glanced around the room. “They gave me a chance when I bombed out last year, and I couldn’t be happier.” He turned back to Isaac. “The AFL’s not on my radar. My goal at the moment is to be part of a premiership-winning team. That’s all I’m focused on.”

Deon nodded. “That’s what we’re all focused on.”

“But if you want me to talk about Deon, I can tell you stories that–”

Karen stuck a hand over Ty’s mouth. “As you said, Mr. Long, he’s a brat. He’s not quite housetrained.” She used her other hand to pulled Ty’s head down for a kiss. She then grinned. “But he’s getting there.”

Isaac chuckled. “I’ll catch up with you, later, Deon. Ladies, Ty, it’s been a pleasure meeting you.”

Ty grinned. “Just remember: Deon Bradshaw. Pick him first round or you’ll miss out.”

Isaac Long had already turned away but he lifted a hand and glanced back over his shoulder to nod.

“Thanks, brat.” Deon laced the two words with as much sarcasm as he could.

Ty shrugged. “They recognise quality when they see it. You’ll be fine. Don’t be such a big baby.”

Deon stiffened and glanced around nervously. “Brat...”

Ty raised an eyebrow and then smiled at Clarissa. “That reminds me, there are stories I need to share with you, too.”

“Brat...” Deon wanted his voice to be a warning growl, but he was afraid it came out more as a plaintive plea. Ty still teased him about the ‛baby’ nickname from time to time, despite repeated demands by both Deon and Jim that he stop.

* * *

Isaac Long sat in his car, his phone stuck to his ear. He was still in the Leopards car park; he hadn’t wanted to drive off until after he’d passed on what he’d learnt.

“...he may’ve changed. He’s certainly lost that ‛everything is about me’ attitude he had last year.” Isaac was filling in his immediate boss on the conversation with Ty.

“We rang him a couple of months ago. His father said he wasn’t interested.”

Isaac grimaced. “That may be true – he told me the AFL’s not on his radar – but that might be because all his attention is on the Leopards. That’s what he told me a few minutes ago. How about we continue to watch him and wait until after the finals before we try again? After the season is over, he may be willing to talk about AFL football again.”

“You were there at the state match against South Australia. You said he stormed out afterwards, not even bothering to get changed. That doesn’t sound like he’s changed that much, so why should we bother?”

“Yeah...” Isaac sighed. “Look, my gut feeling is that he’s changed enough. The people around him are not saying the same things that we heard last year.”

“Okay, Isaac, you can chase up on this if you want, but if there’s any chance that attitude of his could return, we can’t take him. There’s too many other talented youngsters out there to waste a draft pick on a dud.”

“I know, but there’s not many with his skills – skills, I have to say, that are even better than they were last year. There was no sign of an attitude problem today. He told me he was a Leopard and that he wanted to help them win a premiership. He didn’t talk himself up at all. Indeed, he tried to get the conversation off him as quick as he could. He was even encouraging us to take the Bradshaw kid. Flanders was what I would expect from most young guys today: eager to please and supportive of his teammate.”

“Fine.” The tone was one of exasperation. “We’ll keep an eye on him, but he’s going to have to do something amazing to make us give him any serious consideration. I still remember him telling me that if we didn’t draft him, I could go fuck myself because I was obviously an incompetent old fool.”

Isaac winced. He’d been on the receiving end of a similar statement when he’d spoken to Ty during the draft combine. “Yeah, well that wasn’t what I heard today. He’s changed. If he’s changed enough...”

He didn’t need to complete the sentence. Isaac and his boss both knew that Ty would be an asset to any team that drafted him...if he really had turned into a team player.

* * *

“Fucking ace, Deon! Leading goal-kicker for the VFL!” Kevin Scanlan’s voice was scratchy, but his enthusiasm came through clearly. “A pity that you missed out on the rising-talent award, but I don’t think you need any more publicity.”

Deon grinned as he lay on his bed. He’d already fielded more than twenty phone calls since Saturday night. Some people hadn’t waited for the end of the round on Sunday before ringing to pass on their congratulations for winning the Jim ‛Frosty’ Miller Medal. Kevin was one of those who had waited for the figures to be finalised.

“Thanks, Kev, but I’m more pumped by the fact that we’ve made the finals. Nic Newman from Frankston certainly deserved the Fothergill-Round Medal. He’s played well all season, and he gave me a headache the one time he played against me. That guy’s tough. Anyway, what about you? Anyone giving you hints as to whether you’ll be playing for the Swans in the AFL finals?”

“Nah, and while I’d love to, I’m not expecting it. They gave me my debut game last weekend here in Sydney, but dropped me back down again this week. They told me it wasn’t because I performed badly; I’m just competing against players who are so much more experienced than me. They did tell me that I’m a chance for next week. They might rest a couple of players for the last game of the season since we’re one game clear at the top of the ladder.”

“Good luck with that. I’ll personally be stressing out, as that’s the first week of our finals. We’re not playing until Sunday, though it’s against Werribee, who we beat last week. Hopefully, that means we’ll make it through to at least the second round of the finals.”

“You’ll get there.” Kevin’s voice was full of confidence. “I caught the ABC broadcast of that match, and you guys were always in complete control. Play the same way and you’ll get the same result.”

Deon chuckled. “I’m not going to assume we’ll win. We still have to do the hard work.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Kevin also chuckled. “And you’ll be working even harder next year. I don’t mind admitting that I haven’t been quiet about telling people here about how well you’re doing. I’ve been dropping not-so-subtle hints that you should be up here with me at the Sydney Swans.”

“I know, they’ve told me.” Deon grinned. “The Swans recruiter I spoke to seemed interested. He even went so far as to talk to my girlfriend about me.”

“Girlfriend? Are you keeping things from me?” Kevin’s tone was mock-accusing.

“No, not really. We’ve only been going out for a few weeks, and we’ve only been on two dates. Between her schoolwork and my training, we’re not getting many times to see each other.”

“Well, you’re one up on me. Then again, I’m not that interested in a relationship at the moment. Sex is easy to get – I just have to tell the girls that I’m an AFL player – but the club is really hard on us to make sure we don’t do anything to create headlines.” Kevin snorted. “There’s been too many of those over the years, and the older guys keep reminding us of the fact. The message we’re received loud and clear is that if our name ends up in a newspaper headline, it had better be for our football and not something else.”

Deon nodded to himself. “We were told the same thing at the start of the year, but they haven’t pushed it since. Then again, they don’t need to. Everyone’s pulled together to make this the best season for the Leopards in years.”

“Anyway, how about some more info about this girl of yours?”

“Her name’s Clarissa, but we’re not getting too serious. If I get drafted by the Swans, like I sort-of hope, we’ll need to break up. She won’t be coming to Sydney with me.”

“Sounds like she’s not keen enough then, if she won’t follow you. And what was that ‛sort-of’ comment? What’s wrong with the Swans?”

Deon chuckled. “Nothing, except it’ll mean breaking up with Clarissa. I really like her, and I’d prefer that didn’t happen. But she knows that if I’m drafted interstate, I’ll be leaving here. We’re waiting to see what happens before we decide what happens next. If I’m still in Melbourne, we’re going to look at things again.”

“You want things to become serious, then?”

“Yeah, I do.” Deon sighed. “But everything’s on hold until after the draft. And we have to get through the footy finals first.”

* * *

“...and in conclusion, I want to emphasise that we wouldn’t be where we are if it wasn’t for both Will and Julie, especially Julie. It’s been very much a team effort with everyone pulling their own weight and, in many cases, going beyond what we could expect. Julie, in particular, is primarily responsible for the improvements we’ve seen in Deon as well as having worked hard with both Jim and Ty. She’s an asset to the club, and I hope she continues to coach here for a long time to come.”

Peter surreptitiously wiped his hands on his pants. Speaking in front of the board was one of the parts of the job he hated, but the monthly meeting was the Tuesday night after the game against Geelong, and he couldn’t let the opportunity slip past.

“Thank you, Peter.” The chairman of the board smiled, though with a perplexed edge to it. “I know it’s been normal to receive a report at the end of the season, but since the team has made the finals, we thought you’d be delivering your report next month after the last game.” His eyes flicked to a couple of old men in suits seated on the left-hand side of the table. “I know that you were under pressure at the start of the season for your hiring choice, but young Julie has more than lived up to your expectations and our requirements. We’re proud that she’s coaching here.” His eyes swept the assembled members of the board. “Right?”

There were murmurs of agreement – some stronger than others – from the assembled board members.

Peter licked his lips. It was time to get to the critical part. “Thank you, but there’s a bit more that I haven’t put into my written report that I wanted the board to be aware of now rather than later.”

Eric, Colin, and Anne gave him a surprised glance. Normally, those three – president, marketing manager, and financial controller – worked with Peter for any presentations he needed to make to the board. This was something he hadn’t told them about.

“Go on.” The chairman frowned. “It’s not something serious, I hope.”

Peter tried to stop himself from flinching. Given the lack of reaction from the board, he thought he had succeeded. “Moderately serious, but it shouldn’t affect the finals. I wanted to inform the board that this will be my last season with the Leopards and that I hope you will seriously consider applications from both Will and Julie for the position of head coach for next year.” He pulled out an envelope from inside his jacket and placed it on the table. “Here is my formal resignation letter.”

The reactions to that statement weren’t dramatic, but it was obvious that he had taken everyone by surprise.

“Why didn’t you say something before now?” Eric asked. The Leopards president’s eyes were wide with shock. “Is it about the pay?” He glanced at the board. “I’m sure we could negotiate something if that’s the case.”

“It’s not that.” Peter shrugged. “I’ve received an offer to join the Western Bulldogs as an assistant coach. Just before this meeting, I accepted.” He glanced around at the board members. “They have agreed that no announcement will be made while the Leopards are still playing in the finals. I’m telling you now so that you can start preparing to find a new head coach. If you don’t find someone appropriate externally, my personal recommendation is that you offer Julie the position. While she’s younger than Will, her experience as head coach of the Broncos will hold her in good stead. She also has the respect of all the players. If you allow her, she’ll be a very successful coach for our club.”

“Is it still ‛our’ club?” one of the scowling older board members asked, miming quote marks around the word ‛our’. “It doesn’t sound like you’re being particularly loyal.”

“I’m a Leopard until the finals are finished. I don’t become a Bulldog until the Leopards are finished for the season, and I’m doing my best to make sure that’s after winning the premiership.” Peter gave the board a wry smile. “Even then, I’ll always be a Leopard at heart. You don’t live and breathe this club for over a decade without it sinking into your DNA.”

The board meeting continued for another twenty minutes. Most of that time was taken up by first trying to get Peter to change his mind, and then starting the planning process needed for the selection of a new head coach. Most of that work would fall to Eric, Colin, and Anne – though Peter would have a lot of input initially – before the news was released to others in the club. No one, especially Peter, wanted the news to disrupt the preparation for the Leopards’ final campaign. It was agreed that the news would be kept quiet for as long as possible.

Afterwards, Peter joined Eric, Colin, and Anne in the president’s office.

“Are you absolutely sure there’s nothing we can do to keep you?” Eric asked.

Peter smiled. “It’s not only the players who dream of the AFL, Eric. This is my chance, and I want to take it.” He shrugged. “It may not work out, but I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t give it a go.”

“Then, good luck.” Anne cocked her head. “Do you really think Julie’s the right person for the job? She’s young for the position.”

“Yes, I do.” Peter leant forward. “I know there are board members who still resent a ‛girl’ coaching the Leopards, so I didn’t push it as hard as I could at the meeting, but unless there’s a recently retired AFL player who has coaching experience, I can’t think of anyone who could be better. Just like Ty and Deon, she’s a hidden treasure, and I want the Leopards to get as much out of her as possible before she’s poached by an AFL club.”

Colin nodded. “That’s your area of expertise, so I’ll take your word for it. I’d be more concerned that Will takes it the wrong way and leaves if Julie gets the job over his head.”

Peter smiled. “Don’t worry about that. Will knows how good Julie is. He’ll be disappointed, but he’ll recognise that the better person got the job.”

It was Peter’s job to know not only his players but also his assistant coaches. He was confident that, if the board did the right thing, he would be leaving the club in good hands.