Open Writing

'You wouldn't bloody believe it! We lost with the last kick of the day. We must be the stiffest team in the AFL. Only that bald umpire would reckon that mark was fair dinkum. If it was a mark, it was Wallys.'

Grunter Brady was talking to anyone who wanted to listen as he pushed his way out of the ground. Grunter wanted a drink...quickly.

Another Saturday ruined. Grunter was getting fed-up losing to Fitzroy. No matter how low they were on the ladder they invariably pulled something out to beat the Magpies. Their supporters then start running around asking where to buy grand final tickets. That made him mad too. Grunter didn't like being negative so he never bothered watching the replay if Collingwood lost but tonight he would make an exception. He wanted to see a close-up of that controversial mark awarded to Bronco in the goal square, with only 10 seconds remaining in the game. It was a simple kick that let Fitzroy win by a point.

Madge Brady, Grunter's wife, was at home listening to the broadcast of the match. The loss upset her too, but for very different reasons. Her concern was the aggressive and obnoxious attitude Grunter adopted after a loss. Mostly he drank too much, trying to drown his feelings, before coming home. She is not a big supporter of football and rarely goes to a game. She had never mentioned it to Grunter but her team was Fitzroy. The trouble was she thought they still play at Brunswick Street. and that 'Baron' Ruthven was still Captain.

Tonight, particularly, she wanted Grunter to be on his best behaviour. She had invited a friend with a new husband to come for dinner. Madge had become friendly with Lorna Lewis and was anxious to meet her second husband, Roscoe. Lorna's daughter is the same age as Madge's Jacqueline, and they met at a Teachers and Parents night. Grunter preferred to give those meetings a miss.

Listening to the last few minutes of the game, Madge was in a turmoil. Trying to keep an eye on her roast dinner, prepare her dessert and pray for a tranquil evening, had her in a spin. With less than a minute to play, the 'trade mark' goal by Wee Willie when he kicked the ball off the ground from near the point post put Collingwood five points in front.

'Oh God! Please don't let Collingwood lose,' she murmured to herself, standing quite still listening to the last few moments. The Lions rover grabbed the knock out from the ruck and sent a long drop punt to full forward. The excited yelling of the commentators made it difficult to understand that Bronco dragged in the mark. The yelling and booing of 28,000 Collingwood fans indicated they didn't agree. The siren sounded. It was going to be a result 'after the bell'. The noise did not upset Bronco; he kicked truly and ran up the field to give a 'high five' to the rover.

Fitzroy players were ecstatic, jumping on one another. It's almost as good as a grand final win to beat Collingwood at Victoria Park. The players are now doing a lap of honour, bunched together. The mainly Collingwood crowd we're yelling, not cheering. Their players were wandering off the ground, hanging their heads in disappointment.

'He's going to be in a foul mood just when I wanted a nice night', Madge muttered with a sigh.

With another quick look at the roast in the oven and a final check of her table setting, Madge hurried off to change out of her slacks.

Tonight she would wear the new apricot frock she bought for her sister's second wedding. She would take some time to put on her make-up, trying to do it as well as that magazine article claimed she could. 'You Can Make-up Like a Model' the article screamed at her.

'I think I'll skip the mascara,' Madge told the round, lined face in her mirror. 'I still can't get that right. I wish Jacqueline hadn't torn out that page,' she said, nicely assigning blame for any problem to her daughter.

Hearing the sound of a car stopping out front Madge patted her lips with a tissue, pushed her frizzy perm round a bit and hurried to the door. 'Hello Lorna... and you must be Roscoe? Pleased to meet you. I've heard so much about you.'

'I hope you're not a policeman.' Roscoe smiled and Madge immediately felt her friend had made a good choice. More refined than Grunter, was the thought that went through her mind. 'Come on in, Grunter is not home yet, he went to the football. Do you follow the footy, Roscoe?'

'I'm afraid I haven't caught up with it yet. I'm from Sydney and there I had no interest in any football but I have already learned that it will be difficult to do business in Melbourne without at least being a 'newspaper follower' of some team. Up till now, when asked, I have just named the suburb where my rooms are; Carlton.

Madge felt weak at the knees. I hope he doesn't say that when Grunter asks him. If there is anything her husband hates worse than a Carlton supporter she is yet to see it...It looks like being a lively dinner party, Madge thought.

The sound of the side gate, which had only one hinge, being dragged across the roughly laid bricks indicated Grunter was not drunk. He usually kicks it open. Madge hurried to the back door to meet him and quickly whisper they had company. If she could also squeeze into the conversation that she had a roast on, it might quieten his normal rumbustious entry.

'Did ya 'ear the bloody result? Are we stiff or what?' Grunter was in full sail. It was going to take some diplomacy to prevent him strangling the nearest Carlton supporter. Although it was Fitzroy who had beaten his team he always hated Carlton more when anyone beat the Magpies. Pushing passed his wife, Grunter stopped abruptly when he saw the visitors.

'Grunter, this is Lorna Lewis and her husband Roscoe' Madge made the introductions. 'G'Day, Roscoe, who do ya barrack for?'

'Well I'm from Sydney, Grunter...have I got that right? Grunter?'

'Yair, everyone calls me Grunter. My mates gave me the nickname after Grunter O'Reilly, the greatest full back that ever played for the 'Pies. I've got one of the boots he used in his last game. It's hanging in the shed. Did Madge show it to you?'

'Not yet, but we have only been here five min'....

'Madge, what's come over ya. Ya haven't shown Grunter's boot to Briscoe.'

'Roscoe. My name's Roscoe'

'Oh. Whatever mate. I'll show ya the boot later. Where did you say ya came from?'

'I'm from Sydney. I'm a Chiropractor and I met an Agent on the plane who told me he had some professional rooms available to start my practice. Everybody I meet in Melbourne asks me the same question as you did; who do you barrack for? The only place I know is where my rooms are, so I say 'Carlton'

Grunter almost exploded, 'Madge, did ya know this bone-crusher barracks for Carlton?'

'I don't care if he barracks for Koo-Wee-Rup.'

Madge smiled brightly at Lorna. Roscoe couldn't understand why it should upset Grunter whom he barracked for.

'I've never been to a game' Roscoe offered, trying to pacify his new acquaintance, 'but I'd like to go sometime. All I know about the game is what I hear from the players brought to me with injuries.'

Grunter's eyes lit up.

'Ever had anyone from Collingwood?'

Roscoe could see his confidentiality code being put under stress. 'Yes, I had a big bloke recently with a badly twisted knee.' He thought he was being sufficiently obscure. Grunter almost sprang into the air. 'You had Big Ollie in your place?'

Grunter practically genuflected as he shouted the name of his favourite footballer.

'Boy! what a story. Wait till the lads at the abattoir hear this when I go to work Monday. 'How long will he be out? The papers say four weeks, is that what you told him? How long?' repeated Grunter.

'I can't talk about my patients' explained Roscoe diplomatically, but if the papers say that they probably got it from the club. Sometimes, so the players tell me, some clubs add to or reduce the professional estimate of time out. They're trying to get some kind of psychological advantage over future rivals.'

'Will he be back by June?'

'I'm sorry I can't discuss my patients individually. All I can say is that I have seen other players with a similar injury return within four weeks.'

'Bloody bewdy.' Grunter slapped his thigh. 'I thought he might be out for the season.' Grunter was looking on his visitor with new eyes.

'Will ya have a beer mate?'

'A light beer would be nice'

Grunter passed over a Carlton Light. For a man who often drives five miles out of his way rather than drive through Carlton, he saw no incongruity in drinking Carlton beer!

'Dinner's on the table'' called Madge from the dining room.

'Bring your beer with you, mate.' Grunter was now being very solicitous of his new friend. He would soon convert him to the 'Pies and have him dump those Blue Belles or whatever they call themselves this year.

The two men took their place at the table with their wives. Grunter couldn't contain his excitement. He was starting to hero-worship this man who had treated Big Ollie.

'Madge, did ya know that Roscoe has treated one of our best players. Boy, will I beat up on those blokes in the boning room on Monday.'

'Grunter while you're enjoying yourself telling those blokes about Roscoe I'll be telling the ladies at Safeway my secret.'

'What secret?' a puzzled Grunter asked.

'Is Wee Billy Nelson still your rover?' Madge had a twinkle in her eyes.

'Of course he's still our rover. The best we've had for thirty years', Grunter said proudly. Wee Billy was as much an idol as Big Ollie.

'Well,' gloated Madge, 'I had dinner with his sister.'

'Where? When did this happen? How could you know Wee Billy's sister?'

Madge stood up and put her arm around Lorna, 'Grunter, meet Wee Billy's sister...Mrs Lorna Lewis.'