Penguin Books Australia

1. Tough Enough

Cupping his right knee tightly, Specky groaned.

Trying to force himself back to sleep, he rolled over onto his stomach and buried his head under a pillow. But it was no use, the pain was excruciating.

He sat up, switched on his bedside lamp and gently rubbed his shin.

'Man, this is killing me,' he said, biting his bottom lip and glancing over to the football-shaped clock he had won a few years ago in a school raffle. The time read 3.25 a.m.

This is crazy. Why's it so sore? I gotta get some sleep, Specky thought, concerned that he might oversleep and be late for school. That would make it the third time in a row that week.

Determined to ignore the pain, Specky turned off the light and, once again, tried his best to doze off. But moments later the aching sensation had returned – more intense than ever before.

'Arrrgghhhhh!'

'Simon, are you okay?' asked Specky's mum, rushing in. She had heard his moan all the way from her bedroom.

Specky's parents called him Simon, even though all his friends called him by his nickname – he was always taking SPEC-tacular marks when he played for his Aussie Rules Under 14s team, the Booyong High Lions.

'Yeah, I'm okay,' winced Specky, putting on a brave face and pretending that the pain had vanished.

'Okay? It doesn't sound like it,' said his mum firmly, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

'Is he all right?' yawned Mr Magee, shuffling in, all blurry-eyed.

'Is it the same spot again? Let me see if any bruising has come up,' ordered Specky's mum as she pulled back the doona.

'I'm okay, really. You can go back to bed,' pleaded Specky, annoyed and embarrassed that his mother was now trying to pull off his pyjama bottoms.

'Dad! She's dacking me!'

Specky looked up at his father, hoping he could get his mum to stop acting as if she was in some TV medical drama.

'Sorry, Si, your mother's right. Let her check. That's three nights in a row you've been in pain. You keep telling us there's no reason for it, but there must be something wrong. Are you sure you didn't injure yourself playing footy?'

Specky replayed the last few days in his head several times over, including Saturday's football game. And not once could he remember being kicked in the shins. In fact, for the entire match no one even got close to tackling him. Specky wondered if the pain could be his mind playing tricks on him. He hoped that was all it was.

'No, Dad. You saw the game. No one touched me,' he said.

As his mother continued to softly prod up and down the lower part of his leg, Specky started to think that some of his AFL heroes such as Ben Cousins and Simon Black wouldn't make such a big deal out of a few aches.

If they're tough enough to handle it, then so am I, he thought.

'Mum, I was having a nightmare – I wasn't in pain. Not like the last two nights,' Specky said, yanking his leg away from his mother and shoving it back under the bed sheets.

'A nightmare?' repeated Specky's mother, not impressed.

'Yeah, a nightmare. It was . . . um, terrible,' stuttered Specky, trying his best to sound convincing – even though he knew he wasn't doing a very good job. 'Yeah, it was pretty scary stuff. There was this gruesome thing chasing me,' he added.

'Really?'

Specky caught his mum giving his dad one of those I'm-not-in-the-mood-for-this-and-he-gets-this-from-you sort of looks.

'And what did this gruesome thing look like?' she asked, gesturing for him to continue with his silly charade.

'Um, well. It was kind of gross. It had to be, you know? – to make me moan like that.'

Specky glanced up at his dad and saw him shaking his head – the look on his face said, 'Quit while you're ahead. Don't test your mother's patience!'

'Well, I'm waiting . . .' she said, crossing her arms.

'Um . . . it's hard to describe. It was the scariest thing I've ever seen. But, it sort of looked like . . . well . . . it looked like that!'

Specky pointed past his parents toward the doorway – standing there was his older sister, Alice. She was still half asleep and looked as if she had just walked through a cyclone. Her hair was sticking up all over the place and she had pillow creases pressed into her face. Specky's dad couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter, which broke the tension in the room – and his mum's frown turned into a smile.

'What? What's going on?' mumbled Alice, missing the joke.

'Nothing,' said Specky's mother, abruptly standing up. 'Your brother's in pain again, so I'm booking him in to see the doctor after school tomorrow.'

'Mum, no! I'm okay,' protested Specky.

'No more excuses! You're off to the doctor's, and that's that!' she said in her strictest voice.

Before Specky could get another word out, his parents had closed his bedroom door and were on their way back to bed.

Once again, Specky didn't get much sleep.

* * *

The following morning the Magee household resembled rush hour at Flinders Street Station. Specky had overslept, and so had everyone else. He hurried around the house, desperately trying to put his school uniform on, eat a piece of toast, find his school bag, and get Alice out of the bathroom so he could brush his teeth – all at the same time. Several minutes later, Specky was charging out the front door and sprinting down the street as if he was Adelaide's Andrew McLeod bursting through a pack. Fortunately, he didn't have too far to go as he lived only a few blocks from the school.

Specky knew that if he was going to make it all the way to the AFL, he would have to keep himself really fit; so, whenever possible, he chose to run rather than walk. After months of badgering his mum and dad, they had finally agreed to subscribe to 'Fox Footy' on pay TV and he was constantly fascinated by the replays of games played in the 60s and 70s. Specky couldn't believe how much the game of Aussie Rules football had changed over the years. The speed of the game was so much slower then, with much less handballing, and the players didn't tend to run with the ball as much. Today's game, by comparison, was a non-stop spectacle, with the ball rushing from one end of the ground to the other. He remembered watching a game on Channel 9's 'Friday Night Football' earlier in the year where the commentators actually measured the distance a certain player covered in one match. Collingwood skipper Nathan Buckley ran 19.1 kms in one game. Specky wondered how far he could run. Not far with this knee, he thought, feeling the pain as he pounded down hard with every step he took. It's killing me!

'Where's everyone?' Specky gasped when he arrived at the front gates of Booyong High.

He bounced up a few steps, ignoring the pain in his leg, and made his way through the main entrance. As he walked along the deserted corridor, passing the empty classrooms on the way to his locker, he suddenly remembered that it was assembly day – all his classmates and the rest of the school were gathered together in the auditorium.

With no time to waste, Specky began to run again. He took a quick turn down C Wing and then a sharp right into D Wing. Specky knew that if he was caught being late again without a good excuse, he would have to stay in during an entire lunchtime and recite eighteenth-century poetry – this was the warning he had received from his Year 8 coordinator and English teacher, Mr Stout.

Specky picked up the pace. Now he was flying.

Just one more turn into F wing and I'm there, he thought, puffing heavily.

But as Specky bolted around the corner, he collided with someone running in the opposite direction. There was a huge smacking sound as the two hit. Both fell to the floor with an enormous thud. Specky was the first to gain some sort of composure. He held his head as he sat up, and tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Lying on the concrete next to him was a girl; she was dressed, oddly enough, in Richmond footy gear – a scarf and a jumper with badges of Tiger players pinned all over.

'Are you okay?' he mumbled.

The girl didn't respond, she just lay there, motionless.

Specky shuffled on his knees toward her, and shook her gently.

'Are you okay?' Specky asked again, really concerned. But there was still no response.

Awrrh, no! What've I done? thought Specky shaking his head. I've knocked her out cold!