Red vs Blue Page 3

  ‘Teddy, do you want to explain the blades on the side of the sole?’ asks Lewis. He motions me to join him at the front. We look like two scientists lecturing university students.

  ‘The side blades are even shorter than the arrow blades,’ I say. ‘They let the player step left or right much faster than any other boot that’s been made.’ By now, everyone is out of their chair, commenting and asking questions, and one kid even asks if he can put in an order for a pair of Stealth Studs. Luckily, we’re saved by the bell and it’s home time.

  ‘What am I going to do with this?’ says Lewis as he walks towards the front gate. He’s carrying the 3D printer on his shoulder and has a coil of plastic 3D printing filament in his hand.

  ‘Take it home,’ I say. ‘Once we’ve put the design into the software, we can print out our first pair of studs.’ Lewis sits down on the bench at the bus stop. Every day he catches the 887 bus home to Campbelltown.

  ‘I can’t,’ he says sadly. ‘My mother and father won’t approve. They’ll say I’m time-wasting.’ He looks down at his shiny black school shoes and scuffs them in the dust.

  ‘They expect me to concentrate on my maths and science. Can we keep it at your place?’

  I see Mum’s car in the distance. It’s easy to spot with the Julie’s Hair and Beauty sticker plastered on the side. I think Lewis’s question through quickly.

  ‘There’s no room at my place,’ I say, which is true. If we’re going to pump out a heap of Stealth Studs, we’re going to need a dedicated workspace that isn’t filled up with my dad’s farming equipment.

  We need somewhere

  Somewhere safe. That’s when an idea hits me.

  ‘Hi, James!’ says Mum, pulling up at the bus stop. Nonna is in the front passenger seat.

  ‘Ciao, ragazzi!’ says Nonna, smiling with her bright-red lipstick.

  ‘Hi, Mum, hi, Nonna,’ I say. ‘Hey, can we give Lewis a lift home?’

  ‘Sure,’ says Mum.

  ‘And can we stop at the mall first?’ I ask.

  ‘What’s going on?’ whispers Lewis.

  ‘Just follow my lead. I know where to put the printer,’ I whisper back. We put our bags and the printer carefully in the boot while Mum and Nonna wave at Matt as he walks towards the car.

  ‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ Lewis says to me. Matt climbs in and closes the door behind him. Mum puts the car in gear and drives towards the mall.

  ‘So do I,’ I say.

  Teamwork

  Communicate loudly and clearly with your teammates and work together in attack and defence. It’s a team sport and there’s no ‘I’ in team!

  CHAPTER 6

  MICHAEL WITH AN ‘M’

  The athletics track and the footy field are very similar, especially on a Friday night.

  The field lights, towering over the track and grandstand, are shining brightly and the crowd is slowly building. Parents, grandparents, uncles and aunties are all starting to fill the stands to watch their family members compete. Just like our rugby league games, there is a canteen at the bottom of the grandstand that fills the air with the amazing smell of hot chips, burgers and a sausage sizzle.

  But tonight, we’re not here for the food or the atmosphere. We’re at the athletics track to recruit players for Camden Blue. Operation Track Attack!

  ‘Got the stuff ready?’ I say to Luke, but there’s no need for him to answer. He points at the Julie’s Hair and Beauty sample bags and Camden Rams Rugby League registration forms sitting at his feet on the cold concrete floor. Luke and I have memorised the script that Tobias has written. This is how it goes:

  Hi, our names are [insert your name here].

  What’s yours? [wait for them to answer]

  You’re really impressive. Ever thought about playing rugby league?

  [wait for them to say yes]

  You would be a great asset to the Camden Rams Blue team.

  We train on Tuesday and Thursday nights and play on Friday nights and some Saturday mornings.

  Would you like to join us?

  [wait for them to say yes]

  *Remember to shake their hand and smile a lot.

  All the events for the little kids are first. Tonight’s program says the Under 12s are on at 6.30 pm.

  Luke and I scan the crowd, looking for boys our age who are already in their running gear. We see some down the front, stretching and warming up. One boy with brown hair with a track down the side and wearing a club singlet with light blue and dark blue stripes is sipping on a water bottle and listening to his headphones. His pre-race routine reminds me of mine. Focused, chilled and determined. He looks like a lean, mean running machine. I can already tell that he’s the person I want. Soon enough, he takes his headphones off and walks up to the starting line. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the Under 12 boys 200-metre sprint is about to start,’ says the voice over the loudspeakers.

  ‘Go, Michael!’ yells someone in our stand. ‘Go, Michael, you’re deadly!’ yells someone else. It looks like his mum. The racers get set, they crouch down low – and

  They’re off and running. I watch Michael break out of the blocks, his legs a blur as he and two other boys move to the front. The next runners are at least ten metres behind them and the gap is widening. There are shrieks and yelling coming from the grandstand – everyone is glued to the race. Michael and another boy move ahead of the third runner. It’s going to be a close finish. They reach the 100-metre mark; they are halfway there.

  ‘Michael Malone and Jared Little from the Camden Athletics Club lead the way. This will go down to the wire, folks,’ says the announcer. The shrieking and yelling from the crowd starts back up. The runners are neck and neck. ‘Fifty metres!’ booms the announcer into the microphone. Luke and I are on our feet, watching Michael push in front – only just. As they cross the line, Michael heaves his chest forward, winning by less than half a metre. A huge cheer comes from around the track. Everyone shows their appreciation for such a closely run race.

  ‘He’s our man, quick, let’s go!’ I say to Luke. As we walk down the stairs of the grandstand holding a sample bag and going over the lines of the script in our heads, the scoreboard in the middle of the field lights up.

  It says:

  Michael is at the finish line with his hands on his knees. Then he stands up straight and shakes hands with the other runners. Good sportsmanship – I like him already.

  Before I can introduce myself, Luke takes a deep breath, plasters a smile on his face (like Tobias told us to) and slides himself between Michael and another runner.

  ‘Hi, our names are . . . ’ Then he stops and looks blank. He’s practised the script so much without actually saying our names, he forgets what comes next.

  ‘Luke and Teddy,’ I whisper.

  ‘Luke and Teddy,’ he says, then suddenly remembers to smile again. He looks petrified, in a friendly way. Michael looks at Luke, then at me. I can tell he’s a bit weirded out.

  ‘What’s yours?’ asks Luke, sounding like a robot.

  ‘What’s my what?’ says Michael with a puzzled look on his face.

  ‘Your name,’ answers Luke.

  ‘Oh, it’s Michael,’ he says. ‘With an “M”.’

  Luke looks really confused at Michael’s joke but then suddenly remembers to smile again.

  ‘You’re really impressive,’ continues Robot Luke. ‘Ever thought about playing rugby league?’ Then he says, ‘Wait for them to say yes.’

  ‘You’re not supposed to say that part,’ I whisper. ‘You’re just supposed to think it!’

  Michael’s eyes are like dinner plates. He must think we have concussion.

  ‘You would be a great asset to the Camden Rams Blue team,’ Luke continues. ‘We train on Tuesday and Thursday nights and play on Friday nights and some Saturday mornings.’ Luke’s nearly finished saying the script. Only a few more words until we can ask Michael to be a Camden Ram. ‘Would you like to join us?’ Luke asks, but I can tell he’s not finis
hed. Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it, I think to myself.

  But he does. He actually does. ‘Wait for them to say yes,’ finishes Luke.

  ‘Wait for who?’ asks Michael. At this point, I make a captain’s call and decide to take over. I should have stepped in four lines ago.

  ‘What Luke meant to say is, you’ve got amazing speed. Would you consider playing rugby league for the Under 12s Camden Rams Blue team?’

  In the background, another cheer goes up. The announcer is getting the crowd ready for the next race.

  ‘Hmm, maybe,’ answers Michael. ‘But only if I can bring someone with me,’ he adds.

  ‘Who?’ I ask.

  ‘Her,’ he says, pointing back towards the track. A girl crouches in the starting position and waits for the starter’s gun. She has the same intense focus in her eyes as Michael.

  ‘Who is that?’ I say.

  ‘That’s Mikayla,’ Michael says. ‘She’s my twin sister.’ As the starter pulls the trigger and the race begins, we watch Mikayla explode out of the blocks.

  The script doesn’t help me prepare for what I’m about to see. Mikayla’s strides are graceful and elegant, but most of all, she is a blur of speed. After only the first 50 metres, it’s easy to see she’s the fastest in her race.

  In fact, she might be faster than her brother.

  Run like the wind

  Feel as light as the wind when you run. As soon as your feet touch the ground, pick them up. Use your arms and always look ahead to where you’re running.

  CHAPTER 7

  NO GIRLS ALLOWED

  It’s been a while since the boys weren’t talking to me. I didn’t like how it made me feel, and I’m glad we’ve been able to patch things up. Until now, everything’s been cool, but when Luke and I shared the news about spotting Michael and his sister Mikayla, Ben and Gerard weren’t happy.

  We can’t have girls on our team,’ said Gerard.

  ‘She couldn’t play our standard of footy,’ said Ben.

  I was excited when they shared their news about finding a kid called Connor at the basketball courts and I thought they would be excited about the twins as well. I guess I was wrong. Michael told us that he’d only play if Mikayla could play too. We’re at risk of losing two of our fastest players just because Gerard and Luke don’t want Mikayla on the team. I look to my Sydney Roosters team poster on the back of my bedroom door for guidance, but all I get in return is 18 players, one coach, two assistant coaches and three trainers smiling back at me. Thanks a lot, guys.

  I get ready to type one of the hardest messages I’ve ever had to send. Being the captain means that I get most of the tough jobs. I tap away at the screen.

  My message has Delivered underneath it in small writing. Michael has read it and I wait for the three blinking dots that would tell me that he’s replying, but they don’t come. I check for the dots again. Not there. I check one more time. No dots, no nothing.

  The Camden Rams rugby league fields are cold, damp and uninviting on Tuesday afternoon. Dad and I arrive 20 minutes early to set up the training gear. Once we’re satisfied that the witches’ hats, cones, tackling bags and balls are in place, Dad pulls out his flask of hot coffee and rubs his hands together while I get his clipboard from the car.

  Walking back, I notice movement behind the small wooden grandstand that separates our training fields from Camden Red’s. Their team has already made a start and I can see Shawn Sharpe leading his team around the ground for their warm-up. Behind him are Mohamed and Krispen, with the rest of the team following in a line like well-drilled soldiers. If we want to get close to beating Camden Red, we need to be better organised – and get more players.

  All of a sudden, my hopes are answered.

  ‘Teddy! Coach! Look what we’ve got!’ Tawera and Dexter walk proudly up to Dad’s car and dump their training bags on the soggy grass. They’ve got someone with them. Two people, in fact. Tawera and Dexter look like two little kids, bringing something exciting to school for Show and Tell.

  ‘Who’s this?’ says Dad, taking a sip of hot black coffee. The two newcomers are both at least 40 centimetres taller than Tawera and Dexter, not to mention twice as wide.

  ‘This is Amiri and Soli,’ says Tawera. ‘We recruited them at KFC.’

  Dad spits out his coffee in shock. Tawera and Dexter have to reach high to put their arms around the new recruits.

  ‘KFC?’ says Dad in surprise.

  ‘Nah, kidding, Coach!’ laughs Tawera. ‘I mean at the park across from the KFC!’

  ‘Do they have any skills?’ asks Dad.

  ‘They sure do, Coach,’ says Dexter. ‘They can tackle, offload and tackle some more!’

  ‘Welcome to Camden Blue,’ I say without hesitation. When we shake hands, mine are nearly crushed in their grip.

  ‘Welcome to the front row, more like it!’ says Dad, writing their names on the clipboard. ‘Where are you guys from?’

  ‘Cook Islands,’ says Soli. ‘We’re cousins.’

  ‘No, I mean, where do you live?’

  ‘Oh, Rosemeadow,’ says Soli. The introductions are interrupted when Ben and Gerard arrive. They also have someone with them.

  ‘Yeah. More players!’ bellows Tawera. The kid with Ben and Gerard has a basketball under his arm and is wearing a bright white pair of Nike Air Jordans. He looks like he’s just come from training. He glances around nervously.

  ‘Hey, guys, this is Connor,’ says Ben. ‘He really wants to play, right, Connor?’

  ‘Uh, yeah,’ says Connor. He doesn’t really look like he wants to be here. He looks down at the ground and doesn’t make eye contact with anyone.

  ‘You should see how quick he is with his hands, Coach,’ says Gerard. ‘We just need to teach him how to pass a footy.’

  ‘I need to change my shoes,’ Connor says softly, and walks over to the wooden grandstand. As Dad directs everyone to start stretching, I see Tobias and Patty arrive in the distance. Just like Luke and me, they’ve arrived empty-handed. Still, three new players are better than zero. We start with a calf stretch first and then move on to our hamstrings. It’s important to stretch in this cold weather.

  ‘Whoa! What the heck?’ yells Tawera, stopping mid-stretch and pointing at the grandstand. The whole team turns their gaze to the steps of the grandstand where Connor, the new basketball kid, is sitting. At first, we don’t know what’s attracted Tawera’s attention, but finally we see it. Instead of whispering or being polite, all the other members of Camden Blue run towards Connor for a closer look.

  ‘Just make him feel welcome,’ says Dad. ‘You’ll know what to do.’ Before I can get to the grandstand, Tawera has started.

  ‘Bro, what on earth?! You only have one foot?’

  Poor Connor has gone red. It takes me a minute to work out what I’m seeing. He’s holding a Nike basketball shoe but where one of his feet should be there’s no foot. His leg finishes above his ankle.

  ‘What happened to the other one?’ Tawera asks.

  Everyone is staring, waiting for Connor to answer.

  ‘You don’t have to tell us,’ I say, stepping through the pack of nosy parkers. ‘This is Connor’s business, not ours,’ I say to the boys.

  Tawera looks guilty, and I can tell he didn’t mean to embarrass Connor. He was just curious. We turn to walk back and finish our stretches.

  ‘It’s okay,’ says Connor.

  The team turn back around and wait eagerly for more.

  ‘It’s not that exciting,’ explains Connor. ‘I was born with one foot. Don’t stress. I can run, step and jump just like everyone else. Maybe even higher than all of you.’

  ‘What’s in your other shoe if you only have one foot?’ asks Luke. He asks what everyone else is thinking.

  ‘A prosthetic,’ says Connor, taking his other shoe out of his bag. Inside it is a shiny skin-coloured plastic foot.

  says the team. They’ve never seen a prosthetic foot before. Or leg. Or anything. Connor look
s relieved at our reaction.

  ‘If I want to play footy, all I need to do is change shoes, just like you guys,’ he says. He rustles around in his gym bag and pulls out a pair of footy boots. He swaps them for his basketball shoes, ties them up tightly and runs over to Dad and starts his stretches.

  ‘Can I stretch with you?’ Gerard asks Connor.

  ‘No, I want to stretch with him!’ says Tawera. ‘I was the one who discovered his foot!’

  While Tawera and Gerard fight over who is going to stretch with Connor, Dad winks at me.

  Finally, Camden Blue is starting to take shape.

  Don’t look back

  Whenever you feel regret, acknowledge it, and use it. Try not to let it consume you. Believe that you will become a better person because of the experience.

  CHAPTER 8

  HOLY CHICKEN McNUGGET

  We’re playing the Mount Annan Knights tonight.

  We’re only two players short, so we’ve got more of a chance against the Knights than we did against the Moss Vale Dragons. Two players short doesn’t count for an interchange bench, which means we have a run-on team of 11. Two weeks ago we had to borrow players from our opposition, but something tells me that tonight we won’t need to.

  How do I know? Because of what happened today.