Penguin Books Australia

1. Rivergum

'Brian! Brian! Wake up!'

Brian Edwards struggled to open his eyes. He read the time on his bedside clock and groaned. He pulled the curtain aside and waved half-heartedly at his smiling coach.

Ernie was leaning out the window of his ute, parked in the driveway. 'Come on, champ! No time to sleep in,' he called, and beeped the horn.

'Get a move on! Ernie's waiting for you,' said Brian's dad, popping his head into the room.

'Yeah, yeah – I heard,' said Brian, kicking the covers off his bed. 'I reckon he's woken up the whole town and it's not even seven yet.'

'Don't be like that. You said you'd help, and with any luck you'll get a full team today. I'll tell him you're on the way. Your mother's made brekky for ya.'

Ten minutes later, Brian jumped into the passenger seat of Ernie's ute, a mug of tea in one hand and an egg on toast in the other.

'You know you could've come in for a coffee, Ern,' said Mr Edwards, following Brian out.

'Nah, thanks, Tom. Gotta get a move on. I think we can get a few extra players this week,' Ernie said, grinning. His ruddy old face squished into a million wrinkles when he smiled.

'Fair enough. Sorry Brian's a bit late getting up,' added Mr Edwards.

'Yeah, sorry,' mumbled Brian through a mouthful of breakfast.

'We got in around midnight last night after his State training in Melbourne. All that travelling's starting to knock us about a bit. But that's gonna ease up from now on.'

'You don't have to apologise for that, Tom. You know how I feel about young Brian here making the State team. Just as long as he doesn't forget us when he makes the AFL,' said Ernie, ruffling Brian's hair. 'That's why I'm taking him along with me this morning. Maybe he can inspire some fellas to turn up today. I hear there's a new family on the Jacobsons' property. I'd like to pop in and say hello. They moved in a couple of days ago.'

'That's a first!' snorted Brian's dad. 'People leave Rivergum these days, they don't move here.'

'I don't know why not. It's the best little town in Australia,' said Ernie, looking downcast, but then he grinned again and started the ute. 'I've heard the new people have a couple of teenagers – Mitch and Charlie. Maybe we can rope them into playing.'

'Good luck, then,' said Mr Edwards, waving.

Ernie and Brian drove down the street and turned left onto the road out of town. Brian glanced out the window at the landscape he had seen almost every day of his life – a blur of dusty, majestic gum trees and the mighty Murray River rolling by. He knew that Ernie would be thinking about the game later in the day. Not once for the last two seasons had the Rivergum footy club been able to raise a full eighteen-man squad.

When Ernie passed the sign that read Mildura 42km and Melbourne 543km, he slowed right down and took a hard right down a dirt road toward the Jacobsons' old property.

'So, how's it all going for ya, lad?' he asked Brian, without taking his eyes off the potholes in the road. 'How's your city mate going? That Specky kid?'

'Yeah, good. He's good,' said Brian.

'And you're ready for the move down there? You know, going to a new school and all that.'

'Yeah, I think so. It'll be a bit weird leaving Clifford High and all my mates, but it'll be worth it to play for the state.'

'That's the way,' exclaimed Ernie. 'Go for your dream, mate. Just remember to come back every weekend to play for us.'

Brian smiled. 'There's no way I'd miss out on playing for the Redfins.'

When they reached the house, the new owners, Mr and Mrs Clarke, invited them in for a cuppa.

'It's Mr Hegarty, right?' said Mr Clarke, motioning for Brian and Ernie to sit down at the kitchen table.

'Call me Ernie, mate – everyone else does. I just wanted to welcome you and your family to the district. My wife, Lizzie, and I own the Commercial – by far the best pub in town.'

'How many pubs are there in Rivergum?' asked Mrs Clarke.

'Only the one – that's why it's the best,' joked Ernie.

Brian smiled. He liked Ernie's dry sense of humour, and the Clarkes seemed pleased to have met someone new from the area. He sipped his tea and listened to Ernie hold court.

'I'm not just the publican, though, I'm also the president, the coach and sometimes a player for the mighty Rivergum Redfins.'

'You still play?' asked Mr Clarke, surprised to hear that someone of Ernie's vintage still pulled on the boots.

'Yep. I turn sixty next month, but that won't stop me. In fact, at the club we don't discriminate on the basis of age.'

Brian wanted to say, 'As long as you have two arms, two legs and a pulse, you're perfect for the team.' But he kept quiet.

'Most players are aged from thirty to sixty, and sometimes we even have a few young fellas in their teens, like our young champ here,' Ernie said, proudly slapping Brian on the back and causing him to splash some of his tea on the table.

'Isn't that dangerous? Boys playing against grown men?' said Mrs Clarke as she grabbed a sponge from the sink to wipe up the tea.

'Well, not everyone is up to it and we'd always talk to the parents first. And the young bloke would need to be pretty confident in his own ability, otherwise we wouldn't even think about putting him out there.'

Ernie had that faraway look that he always got when he spoke about his beloved Rivergum Football Club. 'I love me footy, but it's not worth risking a young bloke's health or career over,' he said. 'We do breed 'em tough out here in the bush, though. Young Brian is in the Victorian State team. He's destined to make the AFL one day. His older brother, James, was good, too – he almost made it to the big league, but gave it up at the last minute to head up a fishing company in Adelaide. Brian's old man, Tom, sometimes plays as well, when his back isn't giving him trouble. He runs a houseboat business on the river, and his wife, Anne, is a teacher at Rivergum Primary. I'm sure you'll meet them all soon.'

Brian wriggled in his seat, listening to Ernie ramble on about his family. Eventually, the conversation got back to football.

Ernie told the Clarkes how little country towns like Rivergum struggled to keep their sporting clubs alive. Once the young people finished school they often moved to the larger towns or big cities instead of hanging around to take over their parents' farms or businesses.

'And don't get me started on insurance premiums,' grumbled Ernie. 'You can't blame the kids for trying to make a better go of it somewhere else, but, by gee, it's tough when you've also got insurance and umpire fees to contend with. They're killing small clubs like ours. On a good day, we might get sixteen players, on a bad day fourteen, on a really bad day, we forfeit.'

Brian knew that in the hundred-year history of Rivergum Football Club, they had only won the flag seven times – six times in the early nineteen hundreds when paddle steamers worked the great Murray and sixteen thousand people lived in the town. Today Rivergum was just a small, almost forgotten community of about eight hundred people, and the last time the Redfins had won the premiership was twenty years ago. Ernie had coached and captained Rivergum's best team ever to victory.

'Couldn't you recruit some men from Mildura or some of the other towns in the district?' asked Mr Clarke sympathetically.

Brian decided he should say something – Ernie looked a bit depressed.

'Um, we would if we could, Mr Clarke,' he said. 'But most of them play with the teams we play against. And players in the bigger teams get paid as well.'

'Well, what if you merge with another club?' Mrs Clarke said.

Brian turned to see Ernie's face drop even more. 'I couldn't do that to the town,' he said sadly. 'The soul of Rivergum would be gone forever.'

'Well, if money's the problem I suppose we could help.'

'No, mate, no! I don't want your money – save it for the fundraising market day,' Ernie said. 'I need players. I want you and maybe Mitch and Charlie to play for Rivergum – starting today if you can.'

'What? Our kids?' said the Clarkes in unison.

'Don't you have two teenagers?' asked Ernie, looking confused at their reaction.

'Yes, of course, but I'm not sure if our kids –' started Mr Clarke.

'It doesn't matter if they can't play. I just want them standing on the ground. We need the numbers,' pleaded Ernie.

'It's not that,' said Mrs Clarke, laughing and walking away to stick her head into an adjacent room and wave her kids to join them.

'Mitch and Charlie, I'd like you to meet Brian and Mr Hegarty,' said Mrs Clarke. And two teenage girls shuffled into the kitchen.

'These are our kids. Our girls,' said Mr Clarke. 'I don't think they'll be allowed on the team.'

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