Leopard Spots - 51. Chapter 51

“Go, Neil!”

Bruce chuckled as he leant on the North Port Oval fence next to Liam. “You’re supposed to be cheering for the players, not the runners.”

“It’s only one runner, and this is his first final. Plus he’s my boyfriend and I want him to know I’m here to support him.”

“I know that, and that’s why we’re here this afternoon and why we’ll be back here next weekend, assuming the Leopards win. But it might be nice to cheer on some of the players, too, especially after that football clinic they put on for your birthday.”

Liam shrugged and grinned sheepishly before returning his attention to the game. He and his father both cheered as Todd took a strong mark in defence. With the clock in his favour, Todd took his time before kicking it the short distance across to Paul.

The Leopards were holding a sixteen-point lead from a quick burst of goals just before halftime. With half of the last quarter already over, Liam could sense the Werribee players were becoming desperate as they tried to peg back the gap. Everyone knew that time was running out.

“Don’t forget that we can’t stay long after the game’s over. You’ve got school tomorrow, and there’s still homework to complete.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know, Dad.” It had become a regular event: Liam spent most of Saturday studying with Neil’s help, but that was mainly catch-up work. Liam hadn’t put in as much effort into his schooling as he should have during the first half of the year, but with the incentive of trying to get into the same university as Neil, he was going back and reviewing that past work. He wanted to do well in the state-wide exams so his final results would be sufficient to get into whatever university Neil ended up at. When it came time to apply, the two would be listing the same set of Sydney universities.

“Come on...come on...” Liam’s father was muttering under his breath as the Leopards tried to penetrate the Werribee defence. Liam wasn’t speaking, but he was thinking the same thing. Though Liam was reluctant to predict a result before the final siren, another goal would come close to sealing a victory for the Leopards.

Liam was distracted when he saw Neil carrying drinks to Todd and Paul. By the time Liam returned his attention to the game, Werribee had regained possession of the football.

As father and son watched, Dave tackled one of the Werribee midfielders near the centre of the ground. Jarrod was quick to pounce on the loose ball and managed to get a kick away before being tackled himself.

“Look out behind, Ollie!” Liam doubted that Oliver would hear him, but he yelled anyway as Oliver and one the Werribee players sprinted after the football.

Oliver was unlucky as the erratic bounce from the ovoid ball favoured his opponent, who collected the football and started to kick it out of the Werribee defensive zone. Oliver leapt forward, throwing himself in front of the Werribee defender’s boot and successfully smothered the kick. Lying on the ground, he punched the football away to where Roger had run forward.

Roger snapped a quick kick across the ground to Deon. Unfortunately, the umpire signalled that Deon’s tagger had managed to get a hand to the ball before Deon caught it, so no mark was awarded. Knowing he was about to be swamped by Werribee defenders, Deon handballed the football over his shoulder to Ty who, almost leisurely, turned and kicked long and hard towards the goal posts. Ty’s confident grin signalled the result before the goal umpire could wave the flags: another goal to the Leopards.

On the sideline, Liam and Bruce grinned and cheered with the rest of the crowd. The Leopards were now twenty-two points in front with less than half the last quarter to go.

* * *

Peter smiled at the celebrating players. “Great game, guys, but remember that’s just the first final out of the way. Next week’s semi-final will be against Williamstown. It only gets tougher from here.”

“It’s going to be even tougher for the teams we play!” Ty yelled back.

Peter grinned as the rest of the team agreed. “Okay, let’s wind this up and let the supporters in. Just remember, you’ve still got training tomorrow. Don’t think we’re going to go easy on you just because you’ve had a Sunday game.”

Julie chuckled as the team gave out a collective groan. “Anyone would think we’re too hard on them,” she said quietly.

“We’ll concentrate on recovery, and we’ll leave the hard work for Wednesday night.” Peter glanced at Julie while Will opened the door to allow those waiting outside to enter. “I know they want to enjoy the moment, but we need to get the team back on the bus within the hour. Start kicking people out in thirty minutes if you need to so the guys can have their showers. I don’t expect there will be a problem; our supporters know that this is just the start of the finals series.”

Julie gave him a wry grin. “Does that mean I can finally ask Angela to leave early?”

Peter laughed. “No, of course not. She’ll stay until Zach’s finished his shower and gotten dressed, as she always does. She doesn’t listen to anyone else.”

“Damn.” Julie’s matter-of-fact tone indicated she wasn’t serious. Zach’s girlfriend only had eyes for one guy, and she didn’t like leaving him alone after a game. Everyone on the team knew it, even if they teased Zach about it from time to time.

Julie scanned the room then frowned. “We’ve got another couple of scouts coming in.”

“Nothing we can do about that.” Peter cocked his head. “You’re getting good at spotting them.”

“It’s not hard. They’re the ones who haven’t been here before, and they always look too reserved to be new fans coming out of the woodwork.” Julie smiled at Peter. “Excuse me, I’ll head over and chaperone, just in case.”

She headed towards Deon and then hesitated as one of the scouts approached Dave instead. Making a quick decision that Deon could look after himself, she headed over to where her older midfielder was pulling out a washcloth and some liquid soap.

After some discussions earlier in the season, Dave and Peter had solved the problem of how to clean up after an away game without using the communal showers. With the tacit concurrence of his teammates, Dave had access to the showers before anyone else. He didn’t strip but would simply wash enough that he could put on a clean top and pull on some tracksuit pants. Only after he had emerged from the showers would anyone else enter.

“Dave Islington? I was wondering if I could have a word.” The gentleman in nondescript clothing appeared to be in his late forties.

Dave looked up, clearly surprised. “What about?”

“You sent a letter off to the AFL last weekend. I was wondering if you could tell me a bit more about what you mentioned in it.”

The tone seemed amiable. Though Julie didn’t know what he was talking about it, she caught Dave’s momentary look of panic before his expression closed down. She stepped forward, but Dave spoke before she could intervene.

“What are your medical qualifications?”

Julie blinked at the unexpected question. While she hesitated, the gentleman smiled. “Sorry, I’m not a doctor.”

Dave turned his back on the guy. “Then I can’t tell you.”

“You can’t leave it at that!” The man frowned. “We need to know more about what’s going on.”

Dave looked over his shoulder. “The instructions for what you want were in the letter.” He started putting his washing gear back into his bag, which alarmed Julie.

She stepped forward. “Are you okay, Dave? We want you fit and well for the rest of the finals.”

Dave smiled, though it looked forced. “I’m about to get cleaned up.” He grabbed his sports bag and hoisted it onto his shoulder. He then headed to the shower area with his bag and all his gear. From that act alone, Julie could tell that he was rattled.

The unnamed man scowled. “What the fuck is he doing?”

Julie moved so she was between him and where Dave was going. “Can I help you?” She didn’t like the guy, and she wasn’t going to volunteer any information.

“If he wants to get drafted, he’ll have to be more cooperative.”

“He told you where you could get the information you’re after. What more do you need?” Julie crossed her arms and gave the guy a steely stare.

“Look, I don’t know if you realise that AFL clubs don’t draft people without having a good understanding of not only their skills but also who they are. We want to know what makes him tick, and he’s hiding that from us.”

Julie smiled but didn’t respond. She left that to the Leopards who had stepped up behind the guy.

“Maybe you don’t need to know.” Ty glared. His fists were clenched as he rested them on his hips.

Roger was more diplomatic. “Dave is a private person. I believe he’s established a formal channel for what you want to know. It might be appropriate to use it.”

Julie’s smile widened as the AFL scout suddenly realised that several more unhappy-looking and physically intimidating Leopards were approaching. She raised her voice. “That’s enough, guys. It’s time we headed back to Lilydale. Finish up with your guests and start getting changed.” Not waiting for a response she turned to the captain. “Roger, can you look after things here?” She tilted her head slightly towards the showers to indicate that Dave was still in there.

“Sure, Julie.”

Ty stuck his face in front of the AFL scout. “I think that means it’s time for you to go.”

The man rocked back. His initially startled expression changed to a scowl. “I suppose it does. It was obviously a waste of time being here.”

There was a general silence in the change room as the man left. Some of the eyes watching didn’t know what was going on, but there were enough hostile expressions from the team to make the man quicken his step. As soon as he was gone, the players turned as one to where Julie, Ty, and Roger were standing.

“Sorry, everyone, but you all heard Julie. It’s time for visitors to go and for the rest of us to get changed.” Ty grinned. “We’ll pick this up again after next week’s win.”

As the sounds of a victory celebration returned, though more subdued than before, Ty turned to Roger and Julie. He was biting his lower lip. “Have I fucked things up for Dave?”

Julie shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She glanced at Roger. “You obviously know more than us about what’s going on.”

Roger shrugged. “I do, but I agree with you. Dave wouldn’t want to play for whatever team that idiot represented. He’s given the AFL clubs clear instructions on what to do, and that guy didn’t follow them.” He sighed and looked at the entrance to the communal-shower area. “I hate the guy who did this to him. It’s all so fucked up.”

Julie saw Peter waiting for her. She knew he would want a report of what happened and why she’d effectively kicked one of the AFL scouts out of the room. Julie wasn’t concerned. She was sure that Peter would agree with the actions taken. Protecting Dave took priority over the post-game festivities.

* * *

Ty dropped into the bus seat next to Deon. “Who was it this time?”

Deon smiled then grimaced. “It’s not important. We’re supposed to be focusing on next week.”

Ty jabbed him in the ribs. “Don’t give me that. You’re focused. I’m focused. But if you don’t tell me which club’s been talking to you, I’m going to lose that focus, and it’ll be all your fault. So...”

Deon chuckled. “Melbourne, again.”

“The Demons, eh?” Ty grinned. “Sounds like they’re keen.”

“I don’t know.” Deon shrugged. “All the scouts tell me that they can’t promise anything, but this guy did tell me that they want their coach to meet me. We were about to set a date when Julie kicked everyone out.”

Ty flinched. “Sorry about that.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. It’s not hers, either. I heard from the other guys what happened. Anyway, he said he’d ring me after he’d spoken to Paul Roos and organised a time.” Deon didn’t need to tell Ty who Paul Roos was. Like most VFL players, both of them knew the names of all the AFL senior coaches.

Ty smiled. “It’s getting serious, then. They only have the coaches talk to players that they might be drafting. As I understand it, the coach doesn’t get the final decision, but he’s certainly going to have a say in who he wants.” He looked away so Deon wouldn’t see his expression as he reflected on the number of senior AFL coaches he had spoken to the previous year. “Nothing’s certain, though.”

“Any word on what’s going on with Dad? I’m not seeing anyone talking to him.”

Ty grimaced as he glanced over to where Jim was sitting. He lowered his voice. “Nothing. Everyone’s gone quiet. I’m still hoping that Carlton will draft him, but I don’t like the silence. They should be doing more than they are. As far as I know, they’re only watching.”

“It’s not in our control, which is why we’re supposed to be focusing on our next game and not the draft.”

Ty turned and stared down his nose at Deon. “Really? But since you started this conversation–”

Deon gave him a look of mock-outrage. “I started it?”

Ty grinned. “I’m glad to see you agree. Anyway, I hope Carlton drafts you. That way you can take over the job of keeping Dad under control.”

Deon laughed. “Sorry, brat, but no one needs to keep Dad under control. You’re the one who needs supervision, not him. As for clubs...” Deon dropped his voice. “...I’m hoping for the Sydney Swans. I’d really like to be playing on the same team as Kev Scanlan again.” He grimaced. “But then that’ll mean having to break up with Clarissa, which I don’t want to do.”

“Yeah, I understand. Clarissa seems like a keeper to me, but Kev’s a good player and a great guy from what I can remember when I played with him in the Vic Metro team. You’ll just have to decide what you want more: a girlfriend or playing footy with an old mate.” Ty sighed. “I envy you. There’s no one from last year that I’ve kept in touch with, and none of them has tried to keep in touch with me, either.”

“I lost touch with everyone, too. It was only coincidence that I caught up with Kev again. He said that once he was drafted he was so busy he only stayed in contact with a handful of people.”

“I can appreciate that. Just make sure that when you get drafted, you don’t forget us.”

“If I get drafted.” Deon glanced around the bus for a moment before returning his attention to Ty. “I might never make it to the AFL, but if this is my only year with the Leopards, I’ll never forget anyone here. This year has been special.”

Ty sighed. “Yeah, it has. I’ve never had a family before.” He grinned. “And just so you know, as far as I’m concerned, in this family you’ve got the role of the annoying baby brother.”

“Brat!”

* * *

“I’m not really comfortable,” Deon said as he ran a finger along the inside of his collar in a vain attempt to make it looser. “Are you sure I can’t leave?”

Jim chuckled as he relaxed in his own suit and tie. It was the day after their game against Werribee, and the two of them were at the VFL’s awards night. “No, you can’t.”

“Dave’s not here, and I know he was invited.”

“That’s different. He was invited because he’s considered to be a chance for the J.J. Liston Trophy,” Jim said, referring to the VFL’s best-and-fairest award. “If he wins it and he’s not here, that will be disappointing, but he might not win it. You, on the other hand, have won an award, and you need to be here to collect it.”

Tony grinned. “Get used to it, Deon. Being a top-level sportsman means being a public figure. If you get drafted, you’ll be under even more of a spotlight.”

“Yeah, but do I have to wear a suit?” Deon looked past Tony and smiled as Clarissa returned from the ladies toilets. He stood up and helped her with the chair before reseating himself.

“How long is this going to go for?” Clarissa smiled. “I’m not complaining, I just want to know. Mum and Dad weren’t keen on me being out on a school night, but they accepted that the circumstances are a little unusual.”

“Dad?” Deon asked.

Jim shrugged. “No idea. This is the first one I’ve attended, too.” He glanced around. “I’m not really sure why I’m here. The best-and-fairest award is the big one, and I’m guessing they’ll do that one last.”

Tony snorted. “You’re here because, like Dave, you’re considered a chance for the best-and-fairest. It might also be a tacit acknowledgement of who, or rather what you are: the VFL’s first openly gay player.”

Clarissa frowned. “Isn’t Ty considered to be one of the best players for the Leopards? Did he get an invite, too?”

Deon and Jim both shook their heads. “He’s not eligible,” Deon said.

Jim expanded on that answer when Clarissa looked puzzled. “Just like with the Brownlow for the AFL’s best-and-fairest, being suspended during the season disqualifies you from winning the J.J. Liston Trophy. It’s not a best-player award; it’s a best-and-fairest, and players who have been suspended are not considered to be the ‛fairest’. I expect Ty will score well from the umpires’ votes right up to that match against Williamstown when he was reported, but he’ll get nothing after that. The umpires won’t waste votes on someone who’s ineligible.”

“But if he hadn’t been suspended...?” Clarissa asked.

Jim gave her a wry smile. “Then he and Karen would be sitting here with us, enjoying some free food, and waiting to see if the umpires liked him enough for him to win an award.”

After enjoying their meals of steak for Jim and Tony and chicken for the other two, Deon was called to the stage to receive the Jim ‛Frosty’ Miller Award from the 70-year-old former Carlton and Dandenong player for whom the award was named. The four then waited as the vote tally for the J.J. Liston Trophy was announced for each round in the season, starting from the first.

Jim couldn’t conceal a wince as Ty took an early lead in the voting, but, as he had predicted, the brat fell short with no votes over the second half of the season. The trophy was won by Alex Woodward, an AFL-listed player with the Box Hill Hawks. Dave and Jim both picked up a few votes, but neither of them was close to winning.

It was near midnight when Tony, the driver for the evening (though none of the four had had any alcohol), dropped Clarissa off at home. Neither he nor Jim was surprised when Deon also exited the car and walked Clarissa to her front door.

“How long do we wait before I beep the horn?” Tony asked, a grin on his face.

Jim chuckled. “Give him at least a few minutes to say goodnight.”

“And how long am I going to get when we get you home?”

Jim gave him a puzzled look. “You’re spending the night, so as long as you want. Just remember, you’re the one who has to get up early tomorrow for work.”

Tony shrugged. “Colin won’t mind if I’m a little late as long as it’s not by too much.” He leant over and gave Jim a quick kiss. “While I like snuggling up to you at night, you really should consider getting a bigger bed. There are times like tonight where we will need to get a decent night’s sleep.”

Jim grinned. “Spoilsport.” He sighed. “It’s been a good evening. I’m glad I went. I’m just sorry the brat got suspended when he did. Otherwise, I think he would’ve had a good chance of winning.”

Tony shrugged. “It happened. I just hope he doesn’t do the same thing on Saturday when we play Williamstown again.”

“He won’t. He still remembers missing out on those games, and he won’t want to go through that again, especially not during the finals.”

* * *

It was Wednesday lunchtime when Dave checked his phone. He had been working at the menswear shop that he job-shared with Owen and had his phone on silent. He frowned. There were three missed calls, all from the same unknown number. There was also a voicemail asking Dave to call, saying it was fairly urgent, but the person didn’t leave any details as to why.

With more than a little trepidation, Dave rang the number back.

“Lachlan MacKenzie.”

“Hi. This is Dave Islington. You called me earlier.”

“Dave! Thanks for calling me back. I know I didn’t give a lot of information in my voicemail, but I thought you’d appreciate it if there wasn’t a record of what we’ll be talking about.”

Dave swallowed, wondering which AFL team Lachlan was from. “What is it we’ll be talking about, and who do you work for?”

There was a short chuckle. “Sorry, I must’ve come over as extremely cryptic. I’m a reporter with the ABC. I’m writing up a story that will be posted on our website later today, but I didn’t want to include your name without your permission.”

“What sort of story?” Dave was confused. He didn’t understand why a reporter from the Australian Broadcasting Corporation would want to talk to him.

There was a pause, and Lachlan’s tone changed. It was softer and gentler than his initial brightness. “It’s to do with an arrest that took place earlier this morning. My contacts have indicated that the investigation started with a...er...complaint from yourself.”

Dave hung up. He started to shake as he realised what the call was about: his rapist had been arrested.

He was still sitting there, staring blankly at the wall opposite, when his boss came in a few minutes later.

“Dave? Is anything the matter?”

Dave shook himself. He tried to smile, but he couldn’t. “Sorry, Mr. Drennan. I...I...” Dave shivered. He couldn’t make himself explain.

“Do you want to answer that?” Mr. Drennan pointed to the phone that was still in Dave’s hand. It was flashing to indicate a call, but it still being in silent mode, Dave hadn’t noticed.

Dave looked at the caller id and flinched. It was the reporter again. Reluctantly, he answered.

“Dave, I’m sorry. I should’ve led into that better. Firstly, are you okay?”

“No, I’m fucking not okay!” Dave winced at the expression of shock on his boss’s face. “Is it true? Is it really true? He’s been caught?”

“Fredrick Rollingford, a former suburban, junior-football coach, was arrested this morning after a four-month investigation,” Lachlan said in a formal tone. “He has been charged with nine counts of indecent assault of a child under the age of 16 for incidents in the period between 1998 and 2006 involving five boys he was coaching at the time. Police were first alerted to Rollingford after a report was made in April this year and believe that other boys may have also been molested. They ask for anyone else who may have further information on possible victims to contact their nearest police station.”

“What are you reading?” Dave wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or if this was reality.

“The police media release. It seems your report was the one that started things happening. The police have found four other victims so far, but they think that’s just the tip of the iceberg. It’s amazing that he’s been able to get away with it for so long without any alarm bells ringing.”

Dave stared up at his boss. Despite Dave’s initial profanity – a sacking offence if it had been done in front of a customer – Mr. Drennan was smiling down at him. Dave’s boss then nodded and quietly slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“It’s finally over...” Dave shook himself out of wary wonder. “What do you want from me?”

“I’d like a few words I can put into my report. I can either quote you by name or quote you as an anonymous victim. I think the second option is probably better. Just be careful not to say anything that you might have to repeat in court.”

Dave stiffened and bit his lower lip. Despite hoping the arrest would happen, it was only at that moment that he realised he might have to recite the incident again in a courtroom. “I...”

“How do you feel right now, Dave?” Lachlan’s voice was caring and encouraging.

“I don’t want my name used! My family doesn’t know.” Dave was on the edge of panic. His parents knew that something had happened, but they didn’t know the details, and he didn’t want them to find out.

“Easy, Dave, I understand. I won’t use your name or give out any other identifying information. No one needs to know that I’ve spoken to you.”

“Thanks.” Dave felt light-headed. A pressure that had been his constant companion for most of his life was lifting. He hadn’t realised that the strain had even existed; he had thought it was normal.

“Can you talk about how you’re feeling?”

“I’m still in shock. I didn’t know if this would ever happen. I thought it was going to be my word against his and he’d get off scot-free.”

“From what the police had said, you were neither the first nor last boy he had molested.”

Dave flinched. That word – molested – seemed too mild for what had been done to him. “I’m just glad the bastard’s been caught.” A wave of fear swept through him. “He’s going to jail, isn’t he?”

“For this sort of crime, any bail is likely to be set pretty high, if he’s granted bail at all. No one wants to take a chance he’ll try to disappear.”

“Thank God. If I saw him...” Dave fell silent, unsure if he would run in fear or try to murder the man. He was in a state of confused euphoria.

“Is there anything else you’d like to say? As I said, I won’t use your name. You’ll only be quoted as one of the victims.”

Dave hesitated. If it was truly going to be anonymous, he had a lot of things to say. Most of them unprintable, but maybe he could get them off his chest.

* * *

Charlie was sitting through a not particularly interesting lecture when he felt his phone buzz. He discreetly pulled it out and checked the email he’d received. His eyes widened as he realised what he was reading. A Google alert he had configured months ago had just been triggered.

While he waited impatiently for his class to end, he used the phone in his lap to send messages to Karen, Peter, and Roger with the link to the news report from the alert. He had only been able to scan it quickly to confirm that it wasn’t a false alarm, but what he read was enough for him to take action. Besides the key words he’d used for the alert – Rollingford and arrest – he had seen the charges of child molestation and the fact that the person arrested had been a junior-football coach in Melbourne.

Twenty minutes later, Karen, Stacey, and Charlie were sitting at a table in the courtyard of the Pearson and Murphy’s Cafe. The chilly air – not unusual for the start of spring in Melbourne – meant that there was no one else sitting outside, giving them a degree of privacy. While Charlie was more than pleased to see Stacey, he hadn’t expected her to accompany Karen when he had arranged for them to meet.

“...do I tell Dave?” Charlie asked after filling Stacey in on what was going on.

Karen frowned as she re-read the news article that Charlie had forwarded to her. “I don’t think you need to. Did you see the bit about one of the victims having been afraid it would be his word against Rollingford’s?”

“Yeah...” Charlie scanned that section again. “What about it?”

“It’s implied that that is a quote from the first person who reported things to the police. The investigation started in April. That means it was Dave’s incident that triggered the investigation, and that quote is from Dave.”

“Maybe...” Charlie re-read the article with Karen’s comments in mind. “I can see what you’re saying, but I’m not convinced. You may be right, but I think I need to talk to Dave before tonight’s training session. Just in case.”

Karen frowned in thought and then nodded slowly. “Okay.” She smiled. “I might head to Lilydale tonight and watch you guys train. The semi-final’s against Williamstown, isn’t it, this weekend?”

“That’s right.” Charlie grimaced. “I hope it goes better than last time.”

“What happened?” Stacey asked.

“It was back in June,” Charlie said. “The first in a set of losses.” He glanced at Karen. “That’s the one where Ty got reported.”

Karen’s expression hardened. “Even more reason to come out to see you guys. I can’t make it to the game – do you really have to have your finals on a Sunday? – but I can make sure Ty knows I won’t be happy if he gets suspended again.”

Stacey slipped her arm into Charlie’s. “I think I’ll come and watch you train, too. We all want the team to win on the weekend.” She leant over to whisper the next part. “And we should celebrate if you do.”

Charlie smiled, though he knew his face was going red. “There’s still the preliminary final and the grand final after that. We want to win all of them.”

Stacey gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “We want that, too.”

* * *

Ty frowned. Dave wasn’t being his normal self. He was going through the training exercises by rote, with no real passion or the exertion of more energy than he needed. He had heard Julie tell Dave several times to concentrate and to try harder, but Dave didn’t seem to be listening.

Deciding he’d had enough, Ty broke away from his training exercise and stepped in front of Dave. “How about fucking trying, Dave? The rest of us are out here trying to get ready for another final, and you look like you don’t have a care in the world!”

To Ty’s surprise, Dave smiled. “I’m just in a good mood. I’ll try harder.”

Ty hesitated and then scowled. “Do more than try. We’re a team, here, and you’re not doing your job.”

“Brat, get your butt over here now!”

Ty gave Dave one last glare – which seemed to have no effect whatsoever – and then jogged over to Julie.

“Brat, who are the coaches?”

Ty blinked. “You, Peter, and Will.”

“And whose job is it to make sure everyone pulls their weight?”

“All of us!” Ty gave Julie a hard look. “We’re a team, Julie. We need everyone doing their job.”

Julie stared back for a moment and then nodded her head once. “I’ll rephrase the question. Whose job is it to yell at the players when we feel they’re not doing enough?”

“The coaches.” Ty was getting annoyed by the obvious questions.

“Are you a coach?”

Ty knew he was being set up, but he was still pissed off that Dave wasn’t putting in a decent effort. “No.”

“Then I suggest you reflect on that while you do a sprint around the oval. Go!”

Ty didn’t argue, no matter how unfair he thought Julie was being. He started running.

While he ran, he noticed Peter having a quiet word with Julie. Ty hoped that Peter would straighten her out because the team needed Dave performing at his best if they were to defeat Williamstown. The last time the teams met still rankled with Ty. He shouldn’t have let Craig Roach get inside his head, and because he had, he had let the team down. He didn’t want that to happen again, and he was trying to do his best to make sure his teammates wouldn’t let each other down, either.

Ty finished his sprint in front of Julie. He glared defiantly while breathing deeply.

“You slackened off in the second half of the sprint. Another one, brat, but this time do it right.”

Ty gritted his teeth. Any outburst was going to increase the punishment, so he turned and started running again. He pushed his way through the pain of two consecutive long sprints. He almost lost concentration when Dave joined him partway through.

Having a pace setter helped, and the two worked off each other until they finished back in front of Julie. She gave them both a searching look and then nodded. “Better.” She then walked off, yelling at one of the other players.

“Sorry, brat.”

Ty sensed that Dave’s apology was heartfelt, but his teammate still had a stupid grin on his face. “What is it with you, tonight? You’re not focused.”

“I had some good news today. The coaches know, so they’re cutting me some slack, but I’ll be focused again on Friday.”

“Good news?”

“Yeah. The guy who...you know...was arrested today.” Dave’s smile disappeared. “That fucking bastard who fucked up my life is finally behind bars.”

For the first time that training session, a hint of the old Dave resurfaced. For a moment, the scowling, unhappy Dave that Ty had known since early in the year made a reappearance. Ty grimaced as he made the connection between the comment and result. “Sorry, Dave. I didn’t know.”

Dave shrugged. “No one told you. I didn’t tell anyone, either, but Charlie informed me before training that he’d told Peter and Roger.”

“How the hell did he know?”

Dave smiled, an expression that looked odd to Ty after months of not seeing it. “Charlie’s Charlie. He found out online somehow. He said he set up an alert to let him know if Roll...” Dave winced. “...if that fucking bastard got caught.”

Ty gave Dave a slap on the back. “Anyway, I’m glad, and I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’ll go now and get Dad to give me a kick up the backside.”

Dave laughed. “After all the grief you’ve given him, I think he’ll enjoy that.”

“Brat, Dave, if you’ve finished, get the hell back to work!”

Dave and Ty exchanged rueful grins. “Time to go,” Ty said.

Dave nodded his agreement, and the two returned to the drills that they were supposed to be running.

* * *

“I’m guessing you’ll find out the details of what just happened once they’ve finished,” Stacey said.

Karen grinned. “It looks like whatever it was has been sorted out, so it’s probably better to leave it alone.” A faint frown appeared on her face. “Maybe I should’ve said something to Ty before training started. I didn’t expect him to confront Dave.”

“You weren’t to have known, and there didn’t appear to be a good reason to tell him.” Stacey shrugged, her attention back on Charlie. “At least Dave’s happy. I’ve never seen him smile before.”

“Me, neither.” Karen sighed. “I hope it all works out for him. This is the reason I went into psychology in the first place: to try to help people. I didn’t expect to be drawn into major problems in the second year of my course, though.”

Stacey put a hand on Karen’s arm. “But thank you for helping. You’ve given Charlie a lot of confidence simply by being there when he wanted advice.”

“And I was petrified every time he asked.” Karen shuddered. “There’s nothing more scary than knowing that if you do something wrong, someone’s life may be in danger.”

“But it’s over now, right?” Stacey stared for a moment as Karen grimaced, and then repeated the question. “Right?”

“This should allow Dave to make some more progress, but he’s been badly hurt. He’s always going to have some problems. The best we can hope for is that they’re minor, like his issue with showering with the guys.”

* * *

Dave smiled at Stacey. “Are you coming back to our place?” They were standing outside the club room along with Charlie, Jarrod, and Owen.

Stacey gave Charlie a quick glance and then smiled back. “I can’t stay for too long, but, yes, I’d like that.”

“Then let’s get going. There’s room in my car for one more.”

“Did you have a good day, Dave?” Owen asked tentatively as the five strolled through the car park.

Dave chuckled. “You could say that.” He grinned at Charlie. “You didn’t tell them?”

Charlie slipped his hand into Stacey’s. “It wasn’t my place to say.”

“That didn’t stop you from telling Peter and Roger.” Dave chuckled as he flicked the remote control to unlock his car. “Stacey do you want the front seat, or would you prefer to be squashed up next to Charlie?”

“I’ll take the back seat,” Stacey said as she gave Charlie a disconcerted look. Dave was acting very different from all the previous times she’d spoken with him.

“What’s going on, Dave?” Owen asked.

Dave sighed. “Someone, who shall remain nameless because I don’t want the fucking bastard’s name on my lips, was arrested today. It seems he...hurt...a number of kids over the years. I hope he gets put away for the rest of his fucking life.”

Jarrod’s eyes widened. “That’s great news! Can we tell everyone?”

Dave hesitated and then jerked his head in a nod. “But not too many people!”

Jarrod gave Charlie a quizzical look, clearly unsure on how to reconcile the contradictory statements.

“How about I send the link to the news report to the team?” Charlie asked. “Just them – no one else.”

Dave grimaced but nodded. “Okay.”

Stacey knew that once the story was out, it would spread. It might not spread far, but there was no way that many people would be able to keep things a secret. She had already realised that most of the people associated with the club knew about Dave, but it was never mentioned. She didn’t know if the news report would change that.

* * *

“Sam Bradshaw?”

Sam frowned at the unfamiliar voice on the phone. “Yes?”

“Hi, Sam. I’m Hayden Canterlock from the Sydney Swans. Your son gave me your phone number earlier in the week.”

Sam grinned. “Hi, Hayden. Deon told me you might be calling. How can I help you?”

“I was hoping we could meet up at some point soon to have a chat. I don’t think it’s any secret that Deon’s been having a great season with the Lilydale Leopards, and we’d like to know more about him.”

“You’re considering him for the draft?” Sam crossed his fingers.

Hayden chuckled. “We’re considering lots of guys. Deon’s certainly doing all the right things, but there are a number of other strong forwards available, so there’s no guarantee he’ll be picked. Anyway, would you be free to have a chat about him? The fact that you live here in Sydney certainly makes my life easier.”

“Sure, when would you like to meet?”

“How about Saturday? I can get you and your partner – Marcus, isn’t it? – tickets to the qualifying final at ANZ Stadium. We can talk there while watching the match.” Sydney was hosting Fremantle in the first round of the AFL final series.

“Sorry, but we’re heading down to Melbourne this weekend to watch Deon play. Would sometime next week suit you? Either a lunchtime or after work would be best for me.”

“That’s fine.” There was a short pause. “How about Tuesday evening?”

“Sounds good. What time?” Sam spent the next couple of minutes organising the time and place. He was keeping his fingers crossed, as he knew that Sydney was the team at the top of Deon’s list of clubs to play for. Deon would be happy with any team that selected him, but Sydney was his first choice.

* * *

“Okay, guys, that’s all for now. Roger, brat, I’ll see you in my office. The rest of you, you’re free until the game.” Peter narrowed his eyes at the assembled team after their Friday-night training session. “Make sure you get plenty of rest tomorrow night. We need to be at our peak for the game on Sunday.”

Peter had made a point of keeping an eye on Dave during the training session and at the team meeting afterwards. Peter was nervous. There was a noticeable difference in Dave since Wednesday; he seemed more relaxed and generally happier. While Peter thought that was the best for Dave, he was concerned that Dave mightn’t have the focus that had made him one of the competition’s top midfielders. Simulated match situations during training weren’t the same as the real thing. They wouldn’t discover if Dave was still at the top of his game until Sunday.

A couple of minutes later, Peter was sitting in his office with his captain and vice-captain. Peter caught Ty’s eye. “Brat, the main reason I wanted this chat is to make sure you’re absolutely clear about Sunday. You’re to stay away from Roach as much as possible.”

Ty flinched and dropped his gaze. “Yeah, I understand. I fucked up last time. I won’t do it again.”

“Look at me, brat.” Peter waited for Ty to lift his head. “Yes, you fucked up, but I believe you when you say you won’t do it again. The reason I want you to stay away from him is that I want you to concentrate on the game, not some low-life bastard who crawled out from under a rock. If you spend too much time near him, you’ll be concentrating on keeping control, not on what’s important.”

Roger frowned. “What if Roach tries to tag him?”

Peter raised an eyebrow at Ty. “Brat?”

Ty gave them both a malicious smile. “Then I run him into the ground. He hasn’t had the advantage of Julie’s endurance training. He won’t last more than half the game.”

Peter grinned. “Perfect. Let’s hope they make that mistake.” He turned to Roger. “Have you got anything you want to raise?”

“There’s one thing...” Roger grimaced. “Since Wednesday, practically everyone in the club knows the news about Rollingford’s arrest. My concern is there’s so many people who have made the link to Dave that the word may have gotten out. If one of the opposition supporters or players has heard about it, someone might make a comment to him at the game. I don’t know what will happen.”

Peter drummed his fingers on his desk. “Neither do I, and I’m not sure if there’s anything we can do to stop it. I’ll have a quiet word with Dave to let me know if something is said. If it’s a player, then we’ll make an official complaint, because I want anyone who stoops that low to be named and shamed.”

Ty shook his head. “You can’t do that. You’ll be making Dave’s history public knowledge if you do.”

“It’ll already be public knowledge if someone says something.” Roger frowned. “But you’re right; it could make things worse by highlighting what’s happened to him.”

“Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. Nothing may happen.” Peter shrugged. “If it does, I’ll talk to Dave about what to do next.”

“Sounds good to me.” Ty scowled. “But if anyone says anything...” His biceps bulged as he clenched his fists.

“Enough, brat!” Peter glared across his desk. “This is what I’m worried about. You need to keep your focus on the game, not on what people are saying. Take a lesson from Dad: he doesn’t even hear most things that are said; he’s concentrating too much on his job.”

Ty winced. “Got it. Focus. Don’t give Dad an excuse to kick me up the backside...again.” He grinned.

Peter nodded while keeping his amusement from showing. Roger didn’t bother. The Leopards captain chuckled and slapped Ty on the back. “You’ll be fine, brat. Just make Dad proud, and you’ll make the rest of us proud, too.”

* * *

“Mandy! It’s good to see you again.” Matt stepped forward and gave Deon’s mother a kiss on the cheek. “What would you like to drink?”

Mandy chuckled as Gary stepped forward to give her a peck, too. “It doesn’t matter what I ask for, you change it to wine, anyway.”

“Wine, it is! Gary...” Matt paused when his partner gave him a sardonic look. “Ah, yes. I think it’s my turn to get the drinks.” He turned to the two guys behind him. “Sam, Marcus, will you guys have your usual?”

“How about I get the drinks?” Marcus asked. “It’s about time we contributed.”

Matt waved a hand to dismiss the suggestion. “You’re not rostered on until 2019. Until then, Gary and I are looking after things.” He swept the group with one last look and smiled. “I’ll be back soon.”

Gary sat down next to Mandy. “There are a lot more Leopard supporters here than I expected.”

Mandy chuckled. “They’re coming out of the woodwork. There were a lot last week, but even more today. Deon was telling me that the Leopards haven’t made it to the semi-finals for more than five years. The last time they made the finals, they bowed out in the first week.”

Sam noticed a small group of guys nearby that appeared to consist of two couples plus friends. “I think there’s a lot of new supporters here, too. I got an email from the club during the week that was letting everyone know about the game today and some of the history of the club regarding making the finals. I checked with Tony later, and he said they sent it out to everyone who donated money at the start of the season. It looks like it’s encouraged some of them to come for the afternoon.”

“Why wouldn’t it?” Mandy said. “It’s actually a nice day. No rain, reasonably clear skies, and a nice pleasant temperature. Spring has certainly arrived.”

“Now all we need is a good game of football.” Gary grinned. “With the Leopards winning, of course.”

* * *

“Yes!” Peter’s expression was one of guarded pleasure. Roger’s goal had levelled the scores. Williamstown had been the first to put points on the board, but the Leopards hadn’t taken long to equalise.

“Roach is still tagging the brat,” Will said.

“I’m not worried about that. The brat’s been told what he has to do, and he’s doing it. As long as he keeps moving, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

This time Neil knew the history between Ty and Craig Roach. He had watched as Roach had moved to Ty as soon as the game started, but Ty had started jogging and sprinting around the ground, making his opponent chase him all the time. It was only halfway through the first quarter, but Ty hadn’t stopped the entire time.

“Runner!” Peter called out.

Neil stepped forward and waited for his instructions.

“Tell Dave to switch with Dad and not be afraid to run through his opponent. I think there’s a weakness on that side and Dave’s the one to show it up.”

Neil nodded and headed to where the drink bottles were kept. He grabbed two and headed onto the ground. After several months, he had a much better idea of when the players would need some fluids to keep their hydration levels up.

He started by jogging over to Dave, handing him a drink bottle while passing on Peter’s instructions. Dave nodded without speaking, tossed the drink back to Neil, and ran off. Neil knew from his housemates that there had been some concern about whether Dave would be able to muster the same level of intensity as he had shown in previous matches, but the first ten minutes of the game hadn’t shown a problem.

Neil jogged in Ty’s direction. As he had expected, Ty intercepted him and grabbed a drink. “Thanks, mate,” Ty said, his voice slightly muffled by his mouthguard.

Craig Roach ran up, his face slightly flushed. “Is this another one of the pussycat pillow biters?”

Neil stiffened and edged away. He didn’t want to be the trigger for another brawl.

Ty winked at him. “Cockroaches are disgusting creatures and always seem to show up when they’re not wanted. The only way to get rid of them is to crush them.” Ty glanced over to where the umpires were bouncing the ball to restart play after Roger’s goal. “Time to get on with the crushing.” He handed the drink bottle back to Neil, smiled, and then sprinted in the direction of the centre square. A moment later, Craig Roach gave chase.

Neil headed back to the coach’s box, dropping off the drink bottles on the way.

“Neil.” Peter beckoned. When Neil approached, Peter frowned. “What did the brat say?”

Neil smiled as he repeated Ty’s comments.

Peter chuckled. “He’s going to be okay. I suspect Roach is going to be swapped off him soon. The brat keeps getting away, and that keeps giving us an easy target.”

Neil nodded and returned to his position behind the coaches. There was still a lot of the game to go, but the Leopards had had a decent start.

* * *

Oliver dove for the loose ball. Picking it up, he rolled onto his feet and tried to sprint away, but his opponent was too fast for him. Knowing that he had to get rid of the ball quickly, Oliver twisted to the side and prepared to handball the football to Roger who was running forward. As Oliver did so, the Williamstown defender’s attempted grapple slipped down Oliver’s body until his hands got caught on Oliver’s shorts. The combination of the turn and the grip caused the shorts to tear as they were pulled down to just above his knees.

Oliver managed to get the ball off to Roger as he fell to the ground. He then picked himself up and pulled his shorts back up. Unfortunately, the waistband had stretched and torn, and the shorts immediately slipped back down again.

While his opponent ran off to chase the ball, Oliver turned towards the interchange area at the side of the oval. He signalled with one hand that he was coming off while holding his shorts up with the other. He took two steps, and then a sixth sense made him look back.

For the moment, he was by himself. His opponent had clearly decided he was no longer a threat and had left. Roger had just kicked the ball back to Jarrod in the middle after failing to find a target further towards the Leopards’ goal posts. Oliver realised that he wouldn’t have to move far to be in a good scoring position, so instead of heading off, he turned and ran into the empty space between him and the goal. As he hoped, Jarrod saw him and kicked the ball in his direction.

Letting go of his shorts at the last possible moment, Oliver took a chest mark about thirty metres out before the tangle around his legs made him fall over. He rotated as he did so to ensure the ball stayed safely in his arms as he landed on his backside.

Standing back up, Oliver stripped off the ruined shorts and stood there in his briefs. He glanced at the umpire directing where the defender had to stand and the line that Oliver would have to take for the shot at a goal. “Can I wait for some new pants, or do I have to take the kick in my underwear?”

The umpire gave him a wry smile and then glanced beyond Oliver. “The shorts are on their way. You can wait.”

“Thanks.” At the sound of cheers and a few wolf whistles from the crowd, Oliver turned, waved, and then lifted his jumper up to give everyone a good view of him in his baby blue briefs. As Neil ran up to him with a spare pair of shorts, Oliver grinned. “You’re a lifesaver, mate. The old pair are over there.” He pointed to where he had discarded the ripped shorts. “If Helena doesn’t want them, you can have them. Just don’t tell me what you do with them; some things I don’t want to know.”

Neil gave him a nervous smile and then headed over to pick up the old pair of shorts. While he did so, Oliver pulled on the new pair and then started to put his mind back into game mode. He picked up the football again, and then focused on his target. Only peripherally aware of the noise of the crowd, Oliver lined himself, started his run-up, and then sent the football soaring with a solid punt kick. He grinned as the football sailed between the middle two posts for another goal.

The Leopards were just over two goals in front.

* * *

It was late in the third quarter. The Leopards were maintaining their lead, though Williamstown were throwing everything at them in an attempt to claw back into the game. The game was very physical, with hard knocks and aggressive tackles the norm. Deon and Roger both had new jumpers on after their old ones had been ripped.

Todd stifled an attempted mark by one of the Williamstown forwards, but the loose ball was picked up by one of the smaller attackers. He handballed the football to one of his teammates who quickly snapped a kick towards the goals. It was inaccurate as it passed to the right of the goal posts; another behind to Williamstown. The Leopards lead was down to eight points, though.

Paul collected the football and scanned the ground for a free target as the play restarted. He saw Ty break away from his opponent and kicked the ball high and long in Ty’s direction. The fatigue was beginning to get to Paul, though, and the ball drifted more to the left than he had wanted.

Ty put on another burst of speed, but a Williamstown player coming from the other direction did the same. Ty managed to get there first and collected the ball after the first bounce. Twisting to the right, he handballed it to Jim who had also been running forward. As he did so, the Williamstown player slammed into Ty’s side.

Ty felt an immediate excruciating agony in his right knee as it collapsed underneath him. For a moment, he couldn’t think. He tried to straighten his leg which seemed to make a difference, but the pain was still debilitating. He was still lying there when Jackie’s face appeared above him.

“Okay, Ty, just lie still and tell me what’s wrong.”

“My knee!” Ty grimaced with pain as he waved a hand towards his right leg.

Jackie did a few quick tests and then signalled to someone out of Ty’s sight. A minute later, Ty was being stretchered off the ground and into the change room, where he was transferred to the portable massage table. Jackie started a detailed examination. Ty gritted his teeth as another short jab of agony as Jackie moved his leg and then applied an ice pack.

Ty forced the pain aside and grabbed Jackie’s arm. “Is it my ACL?” The anterior cruciate ligament was the injury that all footballers dreaded. It usually required a knee reconstruction and up to a year off.

“It doesn’t look like it.” Jackie disengaged Ty’s grip. “I’ll need Andrew to confirm it,” referring to the club’s doctor, “but I’d say it’s a patella dislocation.”

“A what?” Ty didn’t recognise the medical term, though he was aware of a number of common conditions that applied to football players.

“You’ve dislocated your kneecap. It’s already popped back into place, but we don’t know how much damage, if any, has been done to the ligaments. Hopefully, none. That’ll mean a quicker recovery if that’s the case.”

“How long?” Ty mentally crossed his fingers that he would be ready to play in the preliminary final the following week.

“Around six weeks, if we’re lucky and there’s no injury to the ligaments. Longer if there is.” Jackie’s smile held more than a hint of sympathy as she knew what that answer meant to Ty. “We have to wait for the swelling to go down before we can start rehab, and it’s still going to be painful for some time after that.”

Ty lay back and stared, disbelieving, at the ceiling. There was, at most, only two weeks of the finals left for the Leopards. He knew, but didn’t want to accept, that his season was over.

* * *

On crutches and with his knee securely wrapped, Ty hobbled out of the change room and sat down on the interchange bench. Pushing aside the queries from his teammates sitting next to him, Ty checked the scoreboard and then the clock. Williamstown was narrowing the gap between the teams, but time was also running out.

Ty watched anxiously and then joined his teammates in cheering as the Leopards held on for a five- point victory. He was out of action, but the team was still in the finals. The next Sunday they would be playing the Box Hill Hawks, who would be out for revenge for their loss in May. The winner of that match would then play in the grand final against the winner of the Footscray/Port Melbourne clash that would be played the day before the Leopards/Box Hill game.

Ty knew he wouldn’t be playing, but that didn’t stop him from wanting the Leopards to go all the way and win the premiership cup.