5. Round 5

5

ROUND 5

Willo

M onday morning training is a skills session: lots of drills for set plays. Whilst I spend a lot of time in the forward half these days, I started my career as a centre and even played a few games as a defender. That was horrible, and I never want to go back there.

It was amazing being back on the ground on Friday night, even if we were playing in Melbourne. We pulled off a comeback, having been thirty-five points down in the third quarter. I kicked three goals and had four assists, and many were saying I was best on ground. Not bad for almost twelve months off.

More importantly, my knee held up well. It goes to show the team around me knew what was best for me and I need to listen to them more. I’m excited that Paige is coming by the ground this afternoon to record our first podcast. Kim has arranged a room and has a microphone set up. It all sounds too high-tech for me.

Spending time with Paige again will be nice. To be honest, I’m looking forward to just sitting and talking with her. She told me last week that she was on some radio show. I keep meaning to look it up, but I’m a bit of a Luddite when it comes to my phone and social media. I don’t mind looking at photos and leaving the odd comment, but searching for things takes too much time, and I don’t have enough hours in the day as it is.

One reason I’m most excited about spending time with Paige is she doesn’t seem to flirt with me. I’m used to turning women down, and I like to think I do it politely, but I don’t get the impression Paige has agreed to do this podcast just to get close to me. Although she comes across as fun and maybe even whacky in some of her online material, I’ve seen the more reserved side of her. She barely said two words at the President’s Function I met her at before I spoke to her. Sure, we had some louder, older club members there, but she didn’t appear brash or overconfident.

In the back of my mind, I hope she doesn’t flirt with me. We’ll see what our first recording brings. She was nervous at our meeting last week, playing with her hands and fumbling with her cup. It’s not unusual for people to get tongue-tied around me. They seem to think that I’m a famous footy player and I can talk on the telly after a game and be friendly with everyone, but I know I have my own insecurities.

We only ever have Monday training after a Friday night game, otherwise we get the day off. Today, we’re finishing the session with goal kicking practice, and I’m having a laugh with a couple of the younger players. I was nineteen when I played my first senior game. It was the last year the Monarchs didn’t make the finals, and I was only called up because of our extensive injury list. If all goes well, I’ll play my 200th game this season.

Matty’s been playing with me from the start. He’s still in a babymoon phase after his wife, Belinda, gave birth to their first son three weeks ago. Big sister Ellie seems quite fond of baby Hugo. Of course, Bel’s labour almost ended in divorce because she knew the baby was coming, but sent her husband off to play last weekend. He got to the hospital just in time for Hugo’s birth. I think Bel knew what she was doing. Matty thinks he should have missed the game.

I like Bel and some of the other wives and girlfriends. She’s someone I can see coming on the show to talk about life with a footballer. Matty was one of the really unlucky players to have the drug testers turn up at home looking for a wee sample, and Bel loves to tell the story that it took him forever to produce his sample as they were, well, Ellie was asleep, and they weren’t.

Sex is talked about a lot in the locker room. We’re one of the few codes that doesn’t have a no sex before big games rule. I know there was talk before last year’s Grand Final with some of the younger guys adamant that withholding would help their game. If they did, it didn’t help, as we lost.

None of the guys rib me about not having sex. They probably assume I’ve got a friend who provides benefits or something, but I don’t. What I had with Cara was so special, I don’t want to tarnish it with meaningless sex.

“Hey, Lover Boy!” Jake Austin kicks the ball, and it almost hits me in the head. He’s going to be a star for this team, and I hope he gets called up soon.

“That’s enough, Powers.” I rib him back, knowing he hates the nickname that was all too obvious to bestow on him when he arrived. “Let’s move to the boundary line.”

I’m a right foot kick to Powers’ left, but I lead him to the right flank to help guide him. He doesn’t need it, threading the goal posts three kicks in a row. I then show him how I do it with a right foot banana kick that has him shaking his head.

Soon, there’s five or six of us on the boundary line aiming for the goals. There’s no pressure, just the thrill of being out there with mates. After all that’s happened to me personally, I’m glad this game can still bring me so much joy.

Kim’s out here taking photos and video for our socials. The club’s careful to not give too much away about our training program. I’m guessing this footage will go up later in the week.

I can only hope that the fun I’m having out here transfers to the makeshift podcast studio this afternoon.

Paige isn’t in the lobby when I head down to wait for her. I am five minutes early, but I’m excited about our task.

“Hello, Willo.” Maz stands as I pass her little office. “Sorry I missed you this morning. I had an appointment.”

“Well, I missed you, Maz. Hope everything’s okay.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Just my eyes. How are the babies?”

“Calving’s done,” I reply.

“I meant your babies, ya goof.” Maz shakes her head.

“They’re good.” I know my eyes light up when I talk about my kids, especially after a good start to the day, like this morning, when everything went right for a change. “Billy’s not playing sport this year, but he’s talking about starting basketball, Jacko’s playing soccer, and Luna’s doing Auskick. She wants to be the next Bethany Bowman.”

“She might well be. She could be drafted under the Father-Daughter rule.” Maz nods.

The women’s competition is much newer than the men’s. They play shorter quarters, but are still just as fierce on the ground as us men, sometimes even more so.

Paige appears to have trouble opening the door. I’ve often said it should be a two-way door because I’m always pushing when I need to pull, but people just laugh at me and joke that at least I’m not as clumsy with a football.

Her hands shake, and her smile reaches only part way up her face. “Hi.” She clears her throat and offers a wave and then rolls her eyes as if she’s embarrassed by her actions. I think they’re endearing.

“Hey, Paige. Have you met Maz? She’s been working for the club for close to fifty years.”

“Oh, my gosh. Child labour laws in this country must be slack,” Paige jokes, and Maz laughs.

“I started when I was sixteen. Thought I’d land me a hunk of a footballer, but I ended up with the man who operated the scoreboard.”

“Give my love to Jeff, will you?” I tap my hand on the counter at the window behind which Maz sits .

“Of course. He’s always asking after you and the kids.” Maz is once again ignoring incoming calls.

“Well, Maz, we’re off to record a podcast.”

I usher Paige through the door and catch her scent. It smells floral and reminds me of mum’s huge gardens at home. Gardens I’ve refused to visit for over four years now.

“So, I watched the game with the SleekSpeak team at the Colonial Hotel last Friday night, and I came up with a list of terms I have no idea about. I thought it might be fun to have a bit of a section where you can explain them to me?” Paige says as we wait for the lift.

Most players have left for the day, but I know some are pumping weights. Moira’s collecting the kids from school, so I’m not in a rush.

“That sounds like a great idea. Kim suggested we introduce ourselves and go from there.” I hold the doors back and usher Paige in before we travel in silence to the second floor.

“This place is like a labyrinth with all these corridors,” Paige says as we exit the lift and head for the small makeshift studio. Kim is out with a couple of the players who are visiting the kids’ ward at the hospital, but she’s shown me how easy it is to operate all the equipment. It’s literally press record on the laptop she’s left behind.

“That might be something to speak to Kim about. Like doing a tour behind the scenes to see what facilities we have here.” I make a mental note and wonder how we could do that with an audio format.

The room is small and is now filled with Paige’s fragrance. Kim left some bottles of water, but Paige has brought her own and takes a large swig from it before screwing the lid back on.

“Did I mention that the idea is to call the podcast The Yank and The Tank ?” I ask Paige as we sit.

“Well, you are a little tank like.” Paige’s eyes light up, and she bites her bottom lip.

I’m pretty sure she isn’t coming onto me, but if she is, I’m not sure I mind. It’s confusing, that’s for sure.

“Yeah, it’s one of my many nicknames.” I shake my head.

“That seems like good podcast fodder.” If Paige was nervous before, they appear to have dissipated .

I shake my head, a grin on my face. This is proving to be fun.

“Oh, bugger.” I look down at the computer. “I’ve already pressed record. Kim will edit this.”

“All good. Shall we start?” Paige says, taking another sip from her bottle. Maybe she is nervous after all. I know I am. I want the podcast to work so we can spend more time together. As friends, of course.

“Welcome to The Yank and The Tank , the podcast from the mighty Bayview Monarchs, where I get to talk footy with a newcomer to the game. I’m Willo Lovemore…”

“And I’m Paige Larson.”

We hadn’t rehearsed anything, but it’s clear Paige has radio experience.

I introduce myself as a player and mention that I have three kids.

“I grew up on a farm in Minnesota and hated every minute of it.” Paige shakes her head. “New York has been home for the last few years. And I definitely don’t have kids.”

“So, Paige, what got you interested in Aussie Rules?” I ask, flying by the seat of my pants.

“Well, I work for SleekSpeak, one of the club sponsors, and I won an office raffle and ended up at the President’s Function before the game. I’d never seen Aussie Rules before and still can’t believe you guys don’t wear padding or protection or anything.”

Any sign of nerves is gone, and Paige is animated as she talks about her experience.

“We wear a mouth guard. Don’t want to damage your teeth.” I chuckle.

“And you played your first game back after a while last Friday, Mr Tank.”

We spend a few minutes with me talking about the game and how great it was to be back out there. Paige asks insightful questions, more insightful than some sports journos that have harassed me over the years.

“And did you watch the game?” I ask her, already knowing the answer.

“I did.” Paige nods. “I was at a local pub with my colleagues. I still have no idea what’s going on, but go Monarchs.” Paige laughs, and her entire face lights up.

“So, what didn’t you understand?” I prod.

“Well, the referee?—”

“The umpire, we call them,” I interject.

“Sorry, the umpire, they sometimes throw the ball into the ground and other times throw it in the air. Why?”

“It’s a way to determine who is going to gain control of the ball. Each team has a ruck whose job is to tap the ball down to a smaller player who tries to get it towards the goal. They only bounce now in the centre, and if that’s off target, the umpire will blow their whistle and call the ball back and throw it up. They never bounce it if the ground is too wet either. Now a boundary throw-in…”

I continue to explain how there are three types of umpires: field, boundary, and goal. The boundary umpires always throw the ball in over their heads and have done as long as the game’s been played. The goal umpires determine if the ball goes through the centre of the large posts for a goal, which is six points, or either side, which is called a behind and worth one point. If a ball is touched or hits the post, then that’s one point too. Paige nods in understanding.

“Now, someone was saying there are pockets in the ground.” Paige’s nose wrinkles. I don’t think she realises how cute she looks when she does this.

“No.” I laugh. We talk about the flanks, which are like the side, the wings, which are in the centre, and the pockets, which are the areas along the boundary line close to the goal posts. And if you haven’t seen already, look out for some footage from training recently where I gave a masterclass to young Austen Powers on how to kick?—”

“Wait,” Paige interrupts. “Someone called their child Austen Powers?”

“No.” My head falls backwards, and I bite my bottom lip, trying not to laugh. I have to stop myself from falling off the chair. “Jake Austen is one of our young guns. With the surname of Austen, he got the nickname Powers.”

“So, tell me about your nicknames, Tank .” Paige’s eyes shine, the biggest grin on her face. She looks radiant and in her element, and I’m loving our conversation. I hope we can use this material.

“Well, I got Tank because I’m built like one. I also get Lover Boy, which I’m not that fond of.” My smile has gone. “Sometimes, I get Papa Bear, especially when I’m in a foul mood. What about you? Did you have any nicknames growing up?”

Paige’s face has also grown more serious. “No, not really. I mean, it’s hard to shorten a single syllable name.”

“See, in Australia, we’d add an ‘o’ to the end, so you’d be Paige-o.”

“I think I’ll pass,” she says, again screwing up her nose.

“Perhaps some of our listeners might suggest a nickname for Paige. I’ve got instructions from the Monarchs’ PR team here. I’m meant to ask you to like this episode and subscribe and tell all your friends about us.”

“Yeah, give us a thumbs up and hit that subscribe,” Paige adds. “But this has been fun, and I’ve learnt about pockets and flanks and balls ups.”

“No ‘s’, just ball up.” I chuckle.

“Well, maybe I’ll learn more phrases and ask you about them next week.” Paige is smiling again.

We sign off, and I stop the recording.

“That was amazing.” I feel so energised.

“It was fun, yeah,” Paige agrees.

“So, we’ll do it again next week?” I probe.

“Sounds like a plan.” Paige hasn’t stopped smiling. Her face lights up, and her round cheeks seem to almost highlight her eyes. I’ve probably got no idea what I’m talking about, but there’s just something about her that invigorates me.

“I was thinking this week, you could join the WAGs and watch the game with them to get a bit of an idea from their perspective.” I pull out the cable to the microphone and start winding it up.

“WAGs?” Paige asks.

“Sorry, wives and girlfriends. Not that you’re either, of course, but they’re a friendly bunch.”

“I’ll think about it. ”

I glance at my watch. If I head home now, I’ll be there about the same time Moira arrives with the kids, and I can spend some time with them before dinner. I don’t want to leave Paige, though. I want to learn more about her. Jeez, I’d love to hear about her experiences of farm life. I’d just like to spend some more time with her,

“So, um, do you want to grab a coffee or a drink or something?” I ask her, my pulse racing and my mouth dry. I’m not asking her on a date, just a debrief after our recording, aren’t I?

“Um, thanks, but I have…” Paige points over her shoulder.

“Of course. I just. If you wanted to like debrief after that or something.” I shouldn’t have asked her. I should have just left it.

“All good.” She gives me one of her half smiles. “I’ll um, I’ll call an Uber.”

“Where are you going? Let me drive you?” I must appear desperate to spend more time with her, because I am. I have no idea what’s come over me, and it’s somewhat disconcerting.

Paige

What I thought was going to be a small podcast with half a dozen listeners has blown up. Kim sure knows her promotional stuff. There’s even been an article about it in the Bayview Gazette .

Kim messaged me and told me how great I was and how good Willo and I were together. I know meant on the podcast, but I can’t help but wish she meant outside the recording booth, too.

I think he asked me out. Well, he asked if I wanted to grab a coffee after the recording. I said no, but allowed him to drop me back at the office. We drove in silence. It was a little awkward, but I didn’t want to give the impression that, well, any impression really. I want to sink into the background, which is silly seeing I’ve agreed to do this podcast. It’s like I can be outgoing and gregarious if I need to be, like if I’m putting up a reel on my socials, but I enjoy being alone, too.

Kim put an ad in the podcast for SleekSpeak, and Jenny is thrilled with the concept. She’s even thinking she’ll start up an office podcast giving some tips on marketing and promotions. I know Debbie and June have already pitched concepts to her for material.

Before he dropped me off, I gave Willo my phone number and told him he could give it to Kim. Reluctantly, I agreed to sit with the WAGs to watch this evening’s game. Through text, Willo introduced me to Belinda, who is married to Matty, the team captain. She promised to be there, except she has a newborn and if something comes up, she might not make it and suggested I look out for Angelique or Jenna.

The entrance is the same one I went through prior to the function I attended. I present the pass that was delivered to the office and am directed towards an elevator and told to head to the second floor. I know to simply press the number two on the panel and have no idea what level I’ll be on, not that it matters.

“Paige?” A woman with a baby strapped to her chest stands outside with another glamorous woman.

“Hi, yeah, I’m Paige.” Once again, my voice gives way, causing me to croak out my greeting.

“I’m Bel, and this is Jenna. Her partner, Wilson, is one of the centres.”

Both women are gorgeous, and I feel totally out of place. Bel doesn’t look like a new mom and has stunning long blonde hair and looks like her makeup has been professionally applied. Jenna has striking red hair that falls in waves around her shoulders with gorgeous green eyes. Both women are wearing skinny jeans and tight tops. I feel frumpy.

Despite their looks, they both seem friendly and don’t give any impression they’re looking me up and down or judging my wide-legged pants.

“I listened to your podcast in the car on the way here,” Jenna enthuses. “It was great. You two have amazing chemistry.”

“Oh, we’re not together,” I say quickly, holding up my hands.

“It’s just good to hear Willo laughing,” Bel adds. “I think he was starting to last year and then, with the injury and all… ”

“I don’t really know him that well.” I rub my nose.

I don’t want these women to see me as being involved romantically with Willo. First, I don’t really do relationships, and I’ve told myself I’m not going to just fall into bed with people. Second, this is Willo Lovemore, Lover Boy, and I don’t think he’s going to be paying attention to a fatty like me.

Introductions are made to other players’ family members. It seems all of them have heard the podcast. I shouldn’t be surprised, as these are people involved in the club, but I really was only expecting a handful of people to tune in.

Like the President’s Function I attended, there is a room to watch the game in if we want, but I choose to sit in the stands between Bel and Jenna. Bel is a natural mom who thinks nothing of feeding her baby when he fusses. It’s not something I’ve been exposed to before, and I find it a little weird, even though I know it’s just a baby eating.

“What are these things they run through before a game?” I ask the ladies beside me.

“Ah, the banner. They usually have some witty line on them or celebrate a player milestone. They used to be made of crepe paper. It’s just one of those traditions,” Bel offers, the Monarchs’ song blaring overhead.

“The cheer squad handles them,” Jenna adds. “They take it pretty seriously, too.”

Apart from a banner, there are machines shooting fire into the sky as the players make their way onto the ground.

“Hello, darlings.” Another stylish woman seats herself next to Bel. “Rory wouldn’t settle, and I thought I’d have to bring him, but thank fuck, he decided Yiayia was just as good as me. Hi, I’m Angelique.”

“Paige. Hi.” I shake the hand she has held out over Bel.

“Cool. Forgive me, I’m running around after four kids and forget who’s who in my family, let alone the Monarchs, but who are you with?” Angelique scans the ground before seeing someone and letting out a huge cheer.

“Oh, I’m not.” I wonder if I should be here at all .

“Paige is doing a podcast with Lover Boy. She’s new to football.” Jenna greets her friend by entangling fingertips across Bel and me.

“So, Basha’s mine, and he plays on the back line. Number Twenty-five.” Angelique points to a player in the distance who is doing some exercises with his teammates.

“Have you met Matty?” Bel asks.

“No, only Silver,” I reply.

“Ah, Cooper Sterling.” Jenna giggles. “Number Twelve.” She points him out. “He’s got the hots for the coach’s daughter.”

“Not Maddison?” Angelique asks.

“Kimberly. The one who works at the club.” Jenna seems to be the one with the gossip.

“Yeah, Maddi’s working at my school. I’ll get to work with her next term when I’m back from maternity leave. Gaz won’t like his girls dating players, though.” Angelique chuckles.

I didn’t get the impression Silver and Kim were an item. If anything, she seemed to try to distance herself from him.

“So,” Jenna adds, “my fiancé is Wilson Marks, Number Eight.” She points to a tall player in the centre of the ground.

“Is he one of the ball tapping? What do they call them again?” I ask, forgetting half the things Willo explained to me on the podcast. Maybe I’ll have to listen again.

“A ruck? No. He plays centre to centre half forward usually.” Jenna cheers as the siren sounds and the game is underway. I’m still surprised there’s no national anthem or anything. The players simply run out, warm up, and then the game starts.

In a matter of seconds, the ball is kicked and punched down the ground and is in the hands of Willo, who looks like he’s lining up to kick at the goals.

After the ball sails through the centre of the posts, the crowd cheers, and half the Monarchs’ team embrace Willo with hugs, head rubs, or pats on the bottom.

It’s a fun atmosphere sitting with these women. At halftime, with the Monarchs already sixty points up, we head inside where tea and coffee are located, along with trays of cakes and sandwiches. I’m included in their conversations and introduced to people whose names I forget as soon as I’m told them, let alone who they’re here to support. The women tell me about their partners. I discover Basha is Sebastian Leonardi, a back player, who, at thirty-four, is probably playing his last season, according to his wife. Jenna and Wilson are planning their wedding to be held a few weeks after the Grand Final.

“All good?” Jenna looks over at me as I sip a glass of water.

“Yeah, there’s just so many names and faces.” I blow out a breath and shake my head.

“Wait until you’re here for an afternoon game.” Jenna squeezes my arm. “There are kids running around and even more people.”

Bel is off talking with people, and Angelique has gone to the bathroom, claiming it is one of the few times she can pee without a kid interrupting her.

I like Jenna, despite us having little in common. She’s a clothing designer and has her own label, which features wedding and formal gowns. She talks to another player’s partner about how she’s struggling to design her own wedding gown.

This talk of weddings and babies seems foreign, but it’s not uncomfortable for me to be part of. I went to the wedding of a colleague last July in New York. She invited all the office, otherwise, I don’t think I would have been included. Brittany and I were just glad we weren’t involved in the day-to-day wedding talk.

A lot of the girls I went to school with are married. A few even left school to have babies. I was one of only a handful from our graduating class to go to college. I’m so grateful I could escape. Don’t get me wrong, Minnesota itself is gorgeous. Mrs Williams tried her hardest to sneak me clothes and even food when my dad wasn’t watching, but he is a proud man who wanted to pretend he was providing for his family, even if the family is just me. Most of the time, he just ignored me.

He couldn’t understand why I wanted to go to college and expected me to stay and be there for him. We had a huge fight when I insisted I was going. He blamed me for leaving just like my mother, and we haven’t spoken since.

It’s not like we ever had a loving relationship. He expected me to keep our home clean and cook him meals. And ‘house’ is a bit of a stretch. It was little more than a shed, but at least it was a step up from the trailers the single guys lived in on the farm.

I’m brought back to the present by Angelique returning and suggesting we take our seats for the second half.

The game was all but over at halftime, and the Monarchs win by 114 points. A thrashing is what Bel terms it. Once again, Willo plays well, and even Basha kicks a goal in the last quarter. Apparently, it’s rare for players from the back line to get close to the goals.

I make a note of things I want to ask Willo on the podcast this week. I’m looking forward to it. Willo is fun to be around and doesn’t seem to mind that I have no idea what the heck is going on during a football game. I think I worked out more today. I learned from the ladies that when the crowd yells out “Ball,” it is an attempt to get the referees—I mean umpires—to give a free kick for some rule. It doesn’t mean a player had gone too close to another player’s crotch region.

The women are making their way down to the changerooms after the game, but I excuse myself and head towards the taxi rank. I’m not ready to stare at half-naked athletes just yet. It’s been a fun evening. I’m yet to see the Monarchs lose a game, although I believe they lost in the first week, and I wonder what the atmosphere would be like then, but now the crowd outside is jovial and upbeat.

I make my way to the front of the line of people waiting for a cab and climb in the next one that pulls up.

The driver isn’t chatty, which suits me. I’ve had a great evening and met some lovely women. I’ve even agreed to catch up with Jenna for a pedicure after work one day this week.

I hope Marj will be proud when I see her, because I’m proud of myself for once. I didn’t think I’d fit in, and, sure, I was quiet a lot of the time, but these women didn’t care. They welcomed me into their fold and accepted me for me. They asked nothing of me and didn’t care that I’m neither a wife nor girlfriend.

Sure, at first they hinted that Willo and I have chemistry, which I’m trying to ignore. If they were like this with me when I’m just a friend of Willo’s, I wonder what it would be like to be part of this group if we were more than friends. It’s almost a shame I’ll never find out.