6. Mr Damage

“Raaargh!!” sounds the battle cry and suddenly we are ambushed by two young boys as they hurl themselves onto our bed. Saturday morning World Championship Wrestling is about to begin. I quickly escape to prepare breakfast, leaving the three “boys” to have their fun. They love this rough and tumble play. It always ends with one of the boys in tears but they return the following weekend for another bout with their dad.

John has always encouraged our boys in this sort of play. He did it with his brothers when he was a boy. I think he thinks it prepares them to be “men”. He doesn’t want them to grow up to be weak defenseless cowards. Those enjoyable days spent together when our children were small are now over. All three of them have grown into confident, caring and gentle adults.

To John football is just an extension of this kind of alpha-male competition. Putting yourself up against another male in a contest of strength, speed and agility is the ultimate test of male supremacy. A bit primal perhaps but a lot more courageous than taking up weapons. If more males let out their aggression on a football field rather than with guns and bombs we would all live in a more peaceful world.

Aussie rules football is a rough game. Every week players are seriously injured, some needing emergency surgery. Last week we saw Western Bulldogs player Robert Murphy get “fairly” tackled by the massive Magpie Anthony Rocca. Murphy has been playing like a real champion, but now his knee is so badly injured he will not be playing again this season. This weekend Blake Caracella of Collingwood was tackled causing his neck to jolt back awkwardly. He has a fractured vertebra and bruised spine. He is still in hospital.

I hate to see these injuries occur, but it is the very nature of the game. My husband John does not share my concerns at all. But then he is a male who played football. He was a tough competitor specialising in speed and tackling. His team mates called him “Mr. Damage” because he would do damage to their opponents. Late in his football playing days he broke a bone in his hand as a result of an insignificant collision during a game. He was then nicknamed “Mr. Damaged” and his football playing days were over.

Jeremy’s first real match in his new life as a professional footballer resulted in him being hospitalised. He had been playing well until a team mate delivered a “hospital handball” to him. He was consequently tackled, flattened, and knocked unconscious. After placing a brace around his neck, he was carried off the ground on a stretcher and then taken to hospital in an ambulance. There he was x-rayed, scanned, and monitored until given the all-clear to go home.

We heard about this via a phone call from an official of his club. I felt so far away from him. I had these visions about throwing gladiators to the lions. No one in that stadium knew him at all. Who cared as they carried this young man off? I imagined the crowd eagerly calling for another victim. I was being overly dramatic of course.

Too much thought about what might happen on the ground is a curse to the players. They may not venture out there if there was uncertainty or fear in their minds. I try not to convey these thoughts to Jeremy. Mr. Damage does not share these fears, so why should Jeremy.

This weekend Jeremy plays in the firsts of his designated team. He has been named at Centre-Half Back in the newspaper but plays on the forward flank changing onto the ball. We try to pick up the radio broadcast but fail. It is hard going about our daily business knowing he is playing and we don’t know what is happening. His team wins by one point. He kicks three goals and takes some nice marks. He rolls his ankle in the second quarter but plays on anyway. After the game his ankle swells and he gets it x-rayed. It is not broken but badly sprained. He is unsure whether he will play next week. He is named in the newspaper as the leading goal-kicker and one of the best players for the game.

Meanwhile we are invited to join the parents of his AFL team for lunch and to see the game. We meet these parents of longtime AFL footballers gaining a little more insight. “Our” team wins well under perfect blue winter skies. It is encouraging for the new younger players like Jeremy. He is not there of course so I send him SMS messages throughout the game. This rekindles our desire to see Jeremy so we put plans into action to visit him in two weeks time.