That one day in september

• Tom Moorfoot, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2005

THAT ONE DAY IN SEPTEMBER.


I glanced up at the clock. Time was ticking over and Nathan Buckley had just kicked a goal to put Collingwood in front by five points. There must be less than twenty seconds left and each one of them, very valuable, in the AFL Grand Final.

The sun was scorching and I was sweating bucket loads. I took a sip of water. My stomach was doing somersaults and the water regurgitated back into my mouth.
The noise of the crowd rebounded off the high stands of the MCG as the football was bounced high into the air.

Gary Ablett Junior cleared it from the centre and handballed to his younger brother Nathan. Their father was my hero and I knew he would be in the stands watching.

I shrugged off my opponent and led strongly out of the goal square. A sensational drop punt from Nathan Ablett was coming in my direction. I took a wild leap, soaring over three Collingwood players. I shoved my foot in an opponent’s back and launched myself into the air, stretching my body to its full capacity.

I felt the ball touch my fingertips. Juggling it between both hands, everything seemed to be going in slow motion. I fell heavily to the ground.
The dampness of the turf on my face and the heat of bodies covering mine were unpleasant. I finally found my way out of the human rubble. The leather of the Sherrin clutched tightly in the arms.

In the distance I could hear the crowd screaming and cheering. The umpire blew his whistle to signal a mark and then the siren sounded. If I missed this goal, I would be DEAD MEAT. Every Cats fan would be out to get me! Not only was the Grand Final at stake, Geelong had not held a premiership cup for 42 years.

My stomach wasn’t doing somersaults anymore, it was bungy jumping. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand. I thought of my hero Gary Ablett and how he had never had the thrill of winning a Grand Final. I had to kick this goal!

I walked back nervously to take my kick and could hear the crowd chanting my name. I removed my mouth guard and put it in my sock. I had to do this! There was no other option. I was Fifty metres out on a forty-five degree angle. I’d practised this shot after training time and time again under the lights of Kardinia Park.

I took my run up, dropped the ball onto my boot and sent it sailing towards the big sticks. The goal umpire gave the two finger salute and the crowd roared. I had dreamt of this moment my whole life. I looked around the stadium in disbelief; everybody was chanting my name TOMMY! TOMMY! TOMMY! But something even more unreal caught my eye. A large wink from my hero Gary Ablett!