Specky Magee and the Best of Oz

Specky and his team-mates stood in the race of Galway’s hallowed Pearse Stadium. They could hear the muffled sounds of the crowd in the sta-a dium, all barracking for the local team. The Irish definitely had the home-ground advantage. The Aussie team had gone over and over Grub’s new game plan and knew they were as well prepared as they’d ever be for this massive game. But knowing what they had to do and putting it into practice were two completely different things. The team stood in silence, even Dicky was lost in his own thoughts. Then Grub’s voice echoed down the corridor. ‘C’mon, boys!’ he bellowed. ‘Look alive!’

‘I don’t care about the scoreboard,’ he said, slapping Specky and Brian on the back, ‘and I don’t care about the result. The only thing I care about is that you lads walk off this ground knowing that there was nothin’ more you could have done to influence this game.

‘The great achievements in your life are those that come about in the face of adversity,’ Grub continued, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. ‘Getting up when no one thinks you can. Rising against the odds when the normal person lies down and accepts his fate. Refusing to accept the path laid out for you, and altering that path. You can do that here if you believe in yourselves and have faith in each other.’

Specky had played in plenty of football games in his life, but he had never experienced a team so focussed on their coach. Emotion was running high as the Australian team linked their arms over each other’s shoulders and leant forward to hear what Grub had to say.

‘No one thinks we’re capable of competing with these boys today. We’re the underdogs,’ Grub told them. ‘Well, guess what, boys? No one knows you like I do. Let’s go out there and prove them wrong!’

Dicky roared at the top of his lungs, and the team cheered, hugging each other and encouraging one another to defy the odds. For the first time since he had overheard Brother O’Donnell in the library, Specky believed they had a chance at winning – maybe even a chance at taking the series.

Inspired by Grub’s speech, Kevin Kottersley led the boys out on to the ground. They were awed by the size of the crowd and the singing coming from the stands. Specky knew that this game would be something special – an experience he would never forget. He jogged down to the goals with Rick Cosker and, just as they had done in the first Test, they finished their warmup with Rick firing balls at Specky from different angles and distances.

Specky gloved the ball safely and securely, diving in both directions and knocking the ball clear with confidence. The crowd behind the goals, mostly school students, obviously knew how well Specky had played in the first game, and they got stuck into him the entire time.

Specky jogged back and rejoined the team for the national anthem. This time Grub joined them in the line up. Specky scanned the edge of the pitch to find Brother O’Donnell. He was shaking hands with the Irish coach, both of them smiling slyly.

Specky stood with Dicky on one side and Special K on the other, their arms hooked around each other’s shoulders. The ground announcer called for quiet and introduced the playing of the Australian National Anthem. The crowd stood as one and an eerie silence came over the ground, as the music began to play.

This time Specky and his team-mates belted out the anthem. No one suffered from the selfconsciousness they had felt in the first Test. Their singing wasn’t really in tune, and not every player was singing in time, but Specky thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

He and his team-mates were sending a loudand-clear message to their opponents. They were proud to be representing their country and in their own way they were throwing down the gauntlet to the Irish. Dicky was almost screaming the last few bars of the song and Specky could hear Grub’s raspy voice belting out the last lines.

Specky looked at the Irish team lined up opposite them. There was no taunting coming from them this time, and, for a split second, Specky thought he could detect some uncertainty in the eyes of a few Irish players. The star of the team, Eamon O’Sullivan, was smiling broadly, and as the Aussie song finished, he nodded his head as if to say, ‘That’s more like it!’

The Irish matched the Aussies for passion as they sang their anthem and then the moment of truth finally arrived.

Tommy Finnigan and Brian Paylor were once again perched up in a commentary box, all set to call the action.

Is it my imagination, Tommy, or do the Irish team look a lot taller and heavier than they did for the first Test?

No, you would be right in suggesting that, Brian. I went into the Irish rooms before the game and had a chat with Coach McGinnity. He’s had a bit of a premonition about the way the Australian team will line up and has made the appropriate changes. You have to get up early to catch the Irish on the hop, Brian.

I’ve got to say, I’m very surprised that they would change their team at all, Tommy, We have a saying in Australia that you don’t ‘flirt with your form’, and I’d say that changing a winning line-up is fraught with danger.

You worry about the Australians, Brian. I think the Irish boys know what they’re doing … And, here we go, folks. The Australian boys have come together in a tight huddle and they’re only now taking off their tracksuit tops. There’s the bright orange goalkeeper’s top of Aussie sensation Simon Magee …’

HANG ON A SECOND, TOMMY! That’s not Magee! That’s … I’m pretty sure that’s Dicky Atkins wearing the goalkeeper’s shirt. Strewth! What a sensation, here, folks, before we have even started. The Australians have sprung a MASSIVE surprise for the second Test. Grub Gordan’s done it again. He’s a master of the unexpected. Simon Magee, the young superstar from Melbourne, is making his way down to the Australian forward line and will take up his position at full-forward. Oh boy, I love it, Tommy. I bet you didn’t see that coming.

Wait a minute. Is that legal, Brian? Are you allowed to do that? There seems to be some confusion down on the sidelines.

Well, stand by for some more confusion, Tommy, because you’re not going to believe the way the Australians have set up their forward line. Magee is playing full-forward and is surrounded by Morgan, Edwards, Gleeson, Molopoulos, and a young aboriginal lad playing his first game, Jeffy Winsome. That has got to be the smallest forward line that this game has ever seen. And compare that to the Irish defence, Tommy. Every one of them is well over six feet tall. Oh, this is unbelievable. It would appear that the Irish coach has got this horribly wrong. For some reason, he’s planned for a team of giants in the Australian forward line and he now finds them matched up with five rovers and, in the biggest shock of all, with Simon Magee, the boy everyone in the stadium thought was going to play as goalkeeper. Oh boy … I think that’s round one to the Aussies.

Specky found himself matched up against a giant of a kid by the name of Damien Kelly. Straightaway Specky realised that while he could never match Damien in the strength department, he’d be much quicker and far more agile. Specky saw that Skull, Brian, Bear, Spiro and Jeffy were in exactly the same boat – they were up against big fellas they could exploit beautifully.

There was absolute chaos in the Irish camp. Specky saw Grub sitting on the bench with the Australian interchange players. He was obviously enjoying the show immensely. Specky looked towards the end of the bench where Brother O’Donnell sat with his head in his hands.

The Aussie players were raring to go even before the ball was bounced, and their big, lumbering opponents were struggling to keep up with them.

Lurch won the first tap out and the ball was grabbed by Special K. He saw Specky break to the wing and dribbled the ball along the ground in front of him. Specky swiftly gathered it up and turned towards goal. Damien Kelly ran at him, but Specky danced around him with ease, handballing quickly to Spiro, who in turn flicked it over to Brian. The big Irish defenders were powerless to stop the Aussie’s high-speed offence.

On the run, Specky received a handball back from Brian. He put his head down and flew towards the net. The crowd were on their feet.

Specky bounced the ball once and closed quickly on the goals. The Irish goalie came at him quickly, then stopped abruptly, aware that Specky might lob one over his head as he had done in the first Test.

But this time, Specky caught sight of Jeffy flying towards the outer post. Specky softly handballed the ball into the space that Jeffy was heading for, and without breaking stride, Jeffy volleyed the ball in mid-air and it cannoned into the back of the net for a six-point goal.

The crowd groaned as one. It had taken less than thirty seconds for the Aussies to score.

Did you see that? Did you see that? Not even a minute into the game and the Australian team has put the fear of God into their opponents. This series is alive, people! Grub Gordan is a genius and, just maybe, on the back of Simon Magee, that eighteen-point margin from the first Test might be gone by half-time.

Specky felt like he was flying. Playing in goals had been a novelty, but now he was running freely again he knew that this was where he belonged – out in the middle of the action where he could involve himself in so much more of the game.

The Irish team was in complete disarray. On the advice of Brother O’Donnell, they had left out three of their smallest, quickest players and replaced them with big slow defenders. Their coach spent the first half reshuffling his side, trying to cope with the Aussie forward line.

And it was becoming clear that the Irish coach was struggling to find the perfect match up on Specky. He could always turn to their champion, Eamon O’Sullivan, to do the job, but if he moved O’Sullivan on Magee that would leave no one up forward. The Irish’s team’s main style of play was based on an attacking game, not a defensive one. So no matter the score, they couldn’t risk moving their number one gun on Specky – not yet.

Specky knew he was reading the ball beautifully and it felt as though Skull, Brian, and Jeffy could read his mind. They were always where he needed them to be, exactly when he needed them to be there.

With two minutes to go in the first half, the Aussies led by fourteen points – just four points behind on aggregate.

In the commentary box, Tommy Finnigan had gone quiet, leaving Brian Paylor to do much of the commentary.

Magee has been quite magnificent, folks. He’s kicked three goals and set up two six-pointers for Winsome. What a player he is! The ball is back in the middle, and won by O’Sullivan, who is doing his best to keep the Irish in it. He kicks to half-forward where it’s gathered by Sweeney. Sweeney swings around and sends a magnificent ball towards the goal line. Atkins has done a great job in goal for the Aussies and it looks as if he’s got this one covered … But, no, look out, the Irish captain, Kavanagh, is flying towards goal as well … Atkins leaves his goal line and charges towards the ball … Kavanagh keeps coming … Atkins … Kavanagh … Atkins … Kavanagh … OH MY LORD! What a collision! That, folks, has rocked Pearse Stadium to its very foundations.

The ball has spilled free, while both players appear to be knocked out cold. O’SULLIVAN! O’Sullivan has kicked it into the back of the net. What a smashing player he is! For all the efforts of the Aussies, they lead by just eight points, giving the Irish an overall lead of ten.

But, Tommy, neither boy has moved … There goes the siren for half-time. Let’s hope they’re both okay.

Much of the half-time break was spent debating the fitness of Dicky, who, apart from the fact that he could barely see out of one eye, was also struggling to move freely because of a massive corkie in his right thigh.

‘I don’t need to run much in goals and I can still see out of me other eye,’ he said, grimacing.

Specky admired his friend’s courage, but he was worried for him too. There was absolute silence in the rooms as all eyes were fixed on Grub and Dicky.

‘Son, what you did just before half-time was as gutsy an act on the football field as I’ve ever seen,’ said Grub, his hand on Dicky’s shoulder. ‘You never once took your eyes off the ball – you summed up everything that’s great about this game. So, I’m going to ask you only once, and whatever answer you give me, I’m going to accept: Are you fit enough to go out there and take your place in this side without compromising our game?’

Dicky gathered himself, threw his shoulders back, and stood tall. ‘Grub, there is nothing in this world right now that means more to me,’ he said. ‘Please give me this chance and I swear that I won’t let you or the team down.’

When Specky took his position at full-forward, he immediately noticed changes in the Irish defence. Gone were the big slow players they were up against in the first half. They had all been replaced by much smaller, quicker defenders.

Damien Kelly, Specky’s original opponent, was nowhere to be seen, and he now found himself matched up on an opponent named Fergus O’Doherty, a wiry blond defender from Northern Ireland. Fergus had a no-nonsense reputation as one of the best young ‘stoppers’ in the country.

The second half got underway and Specky was aware of a stark difference in their opponents’ style of play. The Irish slowed the speed of the match right down, and using their magnificent kicking skills, maintained possession at every opportunity by kicking the ball short and wide.

Specky ran harder than he ever had, but each time he went to contest the ball, it was transferred to the other side of the ground by way of a chain of short, precise kicks. Eamon O’Sullivan was dominating the play and the entire tempo of the match.

‘Here we go, Brian. The Australians might have clawed their way back into contention, but the Irish boys have learnt their lesson and are running down the clock. The Aussies currently lead by ten points, but that will only be enough to win the game. They need to win by at least nineteen to take the series.

True, Tommy, but it would be a hollow victory if the Irish won the series by playing it safe. I would have thought they’d back themselves and try for a clean sweep.

Specky could feel the series slipping away. He was still winning the ball, despite the tough personal contest he was now having against O’Doherty – and it didn’t help that Eamon O’Sullivan was beginning to drop back and double-team at every opportunity – each time denying Specky the chance to score.

As Rick Cosker ran past Specky, after delivering a message to Skull, Specky yelled out, ‘Hey, Rick! Ask Grub if I can have a run in the middle. Let me go head to head with O’Sullivan. At least then it will be one on one.’

Rick sprinted back to the bench, had a quick word with Grub, and bolted back out to Specky.

‘Grub said go for it, Speck,’ he puffed. ‘Come on, mate. Let’s make something happen.’

Specky jogged to the middle of the ground and swapped positions with Special K. Fergus O’Doherty nervously moved to the midfield with Specky. Specky grinned. He could tell immediately that his opponent was out of his comfort zone and very unsure of himself.

Michael Bayless took a great mark at half-back and Specky seized the opportunity. He sprinted to the wing, while Special K headed towards goal. Eamon O’Sullivan and Fergus O’Doherty exchanged confused looks, unsure which of the two boys to man-up on.

Magee has finally found some space at centre wing and picks up the ball. He heads to goal. This is the first attacking move for the Australians for some time and it’s no great surprise that it comes from Magee.

Specky took a bounce and then looked up the ground to assess his options. Both O’Sullivan and O’Doherty had made the mistake of going after Specky, which left Special K streaming into the forward line on his own.

Magee is flying, with O’Sullivan doing his best to run him down. Magee’s slowing down … O’Sullivan’s going to get him …

Specky could sense Eamon O’Sullivan breathing down his neck, but he knew exactly what he was doing. He headed towards the corner of the pitch and just as Eamon was about to get a hand on him, he stopped dead in his tracks and turned his shoulders slightly.

Caught completely unaware, Eamon could only put out an arm as he went flying helplessly past.

Oh boy, what a move from Magee. O’Sullivan’s out of the picture, as Magee now looks inboard to a crowded forward line. There’s just no space for the Australian forwards to move …

Specky saw Special K free and moving to the back of the net. He looked through the sea of players positioned in the front of the Australian goal and saw the most narrow of gaps opening up. He dropped the ball on to his boot and smashed it with all of his might, hoping that the practise he had been doing with the round ball would pay off.

It was good! The resulting kick sizzled through the air, barely a metre off the ground. It flew like a missile, dissecting at least a dozen players who were powerless to stop it – such was the power and timing of the kick.

The ball hit Special K right on the chest, nearly knocking him over, but he quickly recovered and hammered it into the back of the net.

‘Yes! You bloody bewdy!’ Specky cried, hugging him, as his other team-mates rushed in to celebrate.

‘Look who’s talking! That was a friggin’ awesome pass, mate!’ Special K yelled, grinning wildly. ‘We’ve gone sixteen points up! We’re trailing the Irish by only two points over all.’

They had five minutes to go to get the three extra points needed to secure the series. Specky disentangled himself from his team-mates and ran back to the centre just in time for the umpire to throw the ball in the air. Lurch palmed it beautifully to Specky who, just as he was about to grab the ball, was knocked slightly off balance by a bump from Eamon O’Sullivan. Eamon whipped the ball away from him in a brilliant display of skill and timing.

Specky regained his balance just in time to see Eamon streaming towards the goal. He chipped the ball no more than a metre sideways to Ryan Foley, who gathered it cleanly, sidestepped a despairing Spiro, and then handballed it back to Eamon.

The pass was not a good one, however, and it dribbled along the ground in front of Eamon – who continued to chase it at unbelievable speed. It was still looking dangerous for the Aussies.

Specky was racing towards the action at goal, but in the meantime Dicky had to make a splitsecond decision. He charged off his line, a fearsome sight with his right eye now completely closed and a massive bandage wrapped around his badly injured thigh.

The crowd was once again on their feet, shouting and screaming as loud as they could.

THIS IS IT! The Irish wonder boy sizes up the situation and steadies himself. He’s going to kick it off the ground and … LOOK OUT! Atkins throws himself onto the flying boot of O’Sullivan … OHHHHHH! What’s happened? I can’t see the ball …

The crowd inhaled as one as a tangle of players fell over each other in a mad and frantic scramble inside the Irish penalty box.

I CAN’T SEE THE BALL, BRIAN! WHAT’S HAPPENED? IS IT A GOAL? IS IT A GOAL TO IRELAND?’

Specky stood at the edge of the chaos, with players jumping around everywhere. A large pack had formed right on the Irish goal line. He couldn’t tell whether or not the ball had crossed the line.

And then, like in a scene from a movie, Dicky emerged from under the scrimmage, blood streaming from his nose, one eye swollen shut, barely able to walk. And, protecting it as if his life depended on it, he had the ball squeezed tightly to his chest.

Atkins has saved it! Atkins has saved it! He can’t see! He can’t run! His nose is splattered all over his face, but he has stopped the goal!

Specky was the first to move. Time was running out, and in the confusion all the players had moved far from their positions. ‘Dicky!’ he yelled.

Dicky, barely able to lift his foot, raised one more mighty effort and booted the ball along the ground in the general direction of Specky’s voice.

Sean Kavanagh had noticed Specky’s lead towards the ball and was closing in on him at a ferocious pace. Rather than bend down and pick up the ball, Specky dribbled it out in front of him and took off after it. He quickly put a couple of metres between himself and Kavanagh, but continued, soccer-style, to play the ball along the ground as he streamed forward.

Magee’s out on his own, and he’s flying down the wing. Now he bends and picks it up and runs to half forward. O’Doherty comes at him and … Magee lobs the ball over his head, steps around him and gathers the ball. What a play! Time’s running out. Magee takes another bounce. He’s starting to tire. He has to take a shot …’

Specky’s lungs were burning and his legs could not carry him any further. He was still forty metres from goal, but he had to take his chances. He slowed slightly, settled, and dropped the ball on to his boot.

Magee’s taking the shot! He’s taking responsibility for the entire result. He kicks it … It looks good off the boot … NO, NO! It’s not going to make the distance.

Specky watched in horror as the ball dipped violently and plummeted towards the ground.

HANG ON, IT’S A MARK! I’m not sure who it is. I can’t quite make it out at the moment, but … it looks like Morgan. It is! Lenny Morgan has taken a mark twelve metres out from goal, directly in front. And there are only forty or so seconds left on the clock.

Specky couldn’t believe it. Skull had come from nowhere and marked the ball on his chest. The noise in the stadium was unlike anything he had ever heard. He knew, however, that this kick was no certainty. If it had been with an Australian Rules football, then it would have been all over – Skull would never miss. But with this round ball it was a completely different proposition. They’d struggled to convert with even the simplest of chances. Specky jogged over to Skull.

‘Mate,’ said Specky, stepping up alongside him. ‘Just do your best. We’re with you all the way. And if you can slot this through, I might even do an Irish victory dance for ya.’

Skull kept his head down for another few seconds and Specky hoped that the pressure wasn’t too much for him.

‘Speck,’ Skull said, looking up with a cheeky grin. ‘I wouldn’t want to miss that! Besides the Skullanator was born for these moments.’

And then, without hesitation, and with the crowd chanting so loudly that Specky thought all of Ireland might hear them, Lenny ‘Skull’ Morgan smashed the ball right through the middle of the uprights, giving victory to Australia, and awarding them a series win by one point.

Specky looked up to see the wild scenes of jubilation in the Australian camp – Grub and Bobby were going nuts on the sidelines, and his teammates were jumping on each other, hugging and shouting excitedly, ‘AUSSIE! AUSSIE! AUSSIE’ – and among it all, a gutted-looking Brother O’Donnell hurriedly disappeared in to the crowd.

If this is what it feels like to win for your country, then I never want it to end! he thought. Never!

21. underdogs