5. One day in September

Picture this: a lone young footballer walks slowly across the centre of the ground. His arms hang loose. You can’t see his face because he is walking away from where you sit in the stands. If you could you would see that he is upset. A popular song plays loudly over the sound system. The words “Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?” by the Foo fighters emphasize his defeat. Scattered across the ground his team mates sit or squat where the final siren found them. Heads in hands, they too feel this defeat heavily. Meanwhile the jubilant victors leap about hugging one another soaking up the glory and applause from the spectators.

This Grand Final was a close low-scoring game that could have gone either way. A real contest between two well matched teams of enthusiastic, athletic young men. Jeremy personally did not have a great match. At one defining moment he was lining up for a set shot for goal. He was about 50 metres out and on an angle. He missed and I later asked him whether he was distracted by the helicopter hovering just above the stadium, or the sight of himself on the big screen directly in his line of sight. He said he had been unaware of these things and he missed the goal because he did not kick the ball straight.

These scenes are etched in my memory because I was privileged to be there as a parent of a player – Jeremy. As I sat there watching him standing alone at the centre of the MCG I could feel his disappointment, but I also felt such enormous pride. He had conducted himself so well as a leader of this team. He had done everything he possibly could in his pursuit towards a career in football. He had helped to bring his team to this game on this important day.

Football is a game and the very nature of it means there are always winners and losers. His team were amazing. There is no disgrace in this loss. Before his team left the ground they assembled at the boundary before their small group of supporters and applauded us. How noble they were in defeat.

This game was not important by comparison to the main events scheduled for the MCG for that one special day in September. It was AFL Grand Final Day and despite the fact that two interstate teams were playing off for the Premiership Cup, the stadium was now full.

The pre-game entertainment began with some sky divers dropping in, expertly pulling up for a walk landing. Various singers performed: Delta Goodrem; the current batch of Australian Idol contestants; Dame Edna; Michael Buble tried to sing through a haze of fireworks smoke and an audience chanting for their teams. Some jets flew by and performed aerobatics. The Cup was delivered by helicopter.

The crowd was ecstatic by this stage. They wanted to see their teams play football. The atmosphere was amazing – words easily written that fail to convey the actual feeling when you are immersed in such an event. The game was close with the lead changing often in the final minutes.

We were emotionally detached from the outcome of the main game and exhausted after two great games of football, the excellent pre-game entertainment, and the excitement of the day. We left and met at the club rooms to commiserate, celebrate, and bid farewell to this group of parents, players and team staff. The players hugged, and drank alcoholic drinks, and hugged some more. We didn’t see Jeremy for three days after that as the commiserating and celebrating continued. We finally breathed a sigh of relief knowing that our involvement and commitment was over. There was just one more event to attend; the Club Presentation Night later that week. Then we are needed no more. Free to get our own lives back. If only I could remember what that was.

Once again Jeremy does not play in a real match this weekend. His league has a break whilst some interstate teams play off. He played in a practice game to gain back some match fitness. He tells us that he had at least ten possessions in the first quarter. He played on the forward flank changing onto the ball. He kicked two goals and reports that he is feeling very fit. Meanwhile his AFL team plays in another State.

We have heard some whispers of changes to his AFL team. Some of the older players are failing to regain their previous form after repeated injuries. Jeremy may get elevated to the main list. He may yet make his AFL debut before the end of this season. I feel excited and worried by this prospect.

This week there was a photo of Jeremy and some other players from his team in a major newspaper of that State. There are six players in the photo. They are at training and are all kneeling, obviously stretching. They all have their heads turned looking at something out of view that is making them all smile broadly. It is a photo that their mothers and fans would appreciate. The caption identified them all but mistook Jeremy for another player who is not in the photo. He is still very much unknown.

Like addicts trying to kick a habit we are craving for football action, so this weekend we go to watch a match locally where many of the players, who were in that special Grand Final team with Jeremy last year, will are playing. But it is not the same. Many of them are out with injuries and Jeremy is not there so our emotional involvement is indifferent. At the first sign of rain we head for home.

4. Draft rollercoaster

Without hesitation Jeremy willingly jumps onto the AFL Draft Rollercoaster Ride along with about 1700 other hopeful and capable young footballers. They soon all realise that only about 90 of them will come out at the other end successfully.

The ride begins when players are at about the age of 16 years and they find a firm position in an under 18 team that is above the level of local football. The football is excellent. Most of the boys can kick straight. They know a pass will be delivered to their chest. It is almost perfect football; a dream come true.

So it was for Jeremy. Whilst each player will have a slightly different experience of the ride, this is Jeremy’s tale. He trains hard, plays hard; bonds with his team mates, coach and support staff. He makes all the right sacrifices, abstaining from alcohol, fatty foods, and night-before-the-game parties. It’s all good.

He sees the AFL recruiters at every game. They sit alone, watching, assessing, and scribbling notes on their clipboards. They stand out like sore thumbs. They do not cheer the teams or talk to anyone, and stay away from the small audience of supportive parent spectators.

All is going smoothly and then he gets injured. He can pinpoint the moment it happens. It was just one of those things. There is a long road to recovery. Weeks of not playing and modified training. He visits the doctor and the physio. He is often asked how he is going and he easily responds in medical terms. It is frustrating watching his team play while he sits on the sidelines. He itches to get back out there.

Finally he is well enough to get back on the ground. He plays well and is invited to go to the AFL Draft Camp in Canberra. WOW! What a fantastic opportunity! He feels excited and humble and very scared. What will happen there? He knows the AFL selectors and some top coaches will be there. He knows there will be interviews and testing.

They do test and measure everything – well almost. The things AFL clubs want to know about each individual far exceeds anything a single person ever really need to know about themselves. After this Jeremy knows his: skinfolds; flexibility; agility; how high he can jump from standing and from a run-up; how fast he can run 20 meters, and 3 kilometers; his reflex response; the weight he can lift; his greatest number of chin-ups and push-ups; his highest score for the beep test; his height, weight, hand span and shoe size; his gait; how straight and how far he can kick a football; his ball handling skills; his recovery response; his psychological profile.

They interview every player to find out what their interests are and try to judge what sort of person they are. What about the significant qualities that cannot be measured? Can a player handle rejection? How do they distinguish between a real team player (like Jeremy) and someone who is only focused on themselves? And what about personal integrity? How do they rate a good sense of humour? But this is purely a scientific exercise. They offer no encouragement or words of support or advice. Even the interviews are brief, superficial, and fail to touch on the human elements that really shape us.

On return he feels flat. He has no clue how he performed or where he rated. All of his team mates who shared this experience say they feel exactly the same. A week or so later he receives his results in the mail. He can now see how he compares with the others. It’s OK. He isn’t the best, but he is far from the worst. Small encouragement.

He tries to focus on the footy; on the games because that is what it is all about. He loves his team mates so it’s easy to slip back into the training and routine.

There is also school work and exams to consider. He thinks he may still need to consider an alternative career if he doesn’t make it to the AFL. It is so hard to focus on one thing wholeheartedly, working towards that sole outcome with the passion that the AFL clubs require, and still have a Plan B in mind.

Finally the footy finals and school exams are over and it’s Draft Day! He has had some encouraging words from agents and recruiters. He is an outside chance – perhaps. He knows he is not in the top 10. Those players know who they are. His father didn’t play AFL football so there is no side-door option for him that is offered to some players. So fingers crossed.

He huddles around the radio with his parents listening to the selections as the clubs make them. It is a slow agonising process. He listens out for the clubs who have shown interest in him. Numbers and names are rattled off. Team mates are selected and he feels excitement for them. It gets to 70 and it’s all over. No luck. He wonders why they didn’t pick him. Why?

After a day of really feeling the impact of rejection he realises it’s not all bad. He still has another year of the under 18 competition. There is next year. Another year! A whole other year of this emotional and physical roller coaster ride. But what else do footballer’s do except play football?

So after a small break it is all on again. It’s easy because this is what he knows and loves: training; being with the boys; getting out there with a ball; playing together to win.

This year he is in the leadership group. He has had a year of experience now. He knows what to expect, what the marks are, and what to aim for. He has “Draft Camp” status. There is a photo and an article about him in a major newspaper. There are extra expectations on his ability and performance now. He secretly wonders if he can live up to these high expectations. He begins to make mistakes on the field: missing easy goals; misjudging passes; he feels slow. But his team is winning. It looks like the team has a chance to make the final four. He focuses on the team and the premiership. He tries to forget about the draft.

Then he gets selected to play in the state team for the under 18 National Championship. A couple of his team mates are selected also. This is an honour. The training takes him away from his main team and to other venues with other coaches and players that were/are his opponents. His mind has to make some quick readjustments. They are working towards the under 18 premiership also. They are all trying for AFL selection also. Now they discover they all want the National Title as badly as this new coach does.

He finds it difficult to adjust to his position in this team of elite under 18 footballers. They are all great players. The players quickly bond because they are all in the same situation. Jeremy performs well enough within the team making sure he does the job the coach sets for him. His team wins the National Championship. He is elated and proud to be a part of this team. He celebrates with the other players, and then says goodbye to his new best buddies.

Meanwhile his other team has gone on without him. They have lost some and won some. A place in the finals is not a certainty. There is some work to do yet. He returns to the fold and tries to regroup the team.

The team manages to get a finals position and miraculously scrapes through to the Grand Final play off. This is played at the famous MCG on AFL Grand Final Day. What a huge buzz! The game is televised on pay TV. It is a great contest. His team plays well but is beaten by the team who held number one position for most of the season. His team had beaten them once and this other team was not going to let that happen again.

Jeremy is so upset at the final siren that he actually cries. It is such a huge disappointment to him. It feels so bad to lose this game. This is the last game he will play with this particular group of players that he has come to count as his best mates. He has to move on. The whereabouts of that is still yet to be known.

Another AFL draft looms. He feels his chances are no better than last year. In fact he has had less interest shown from AFL clubs. He gets positive encouragement from some agents, recruiters and of course from his team support staff. He is invited to attend a state AFL draft screening and performs well enough. No worse than last year.

On AFL Draft day he sits close to the radio listening to the selections. The top 10 is predictable. He knows all of these players now as team mates and he knows how good they are. The father/son players are known and chosen. Some of his team mates get chosen with some surprises. Not him. He is overlooked again. He wonders what more he can possibly do? What will he do now? He is surprised that the rejection does not hurt quite as much as it did last year. But he is still shattered. It seems unfair. He has done everything. He knows his performance on the field was not his best. He knows he is as good as many of the players that were selected. He is crushed. For a little while anyway. Then it’s back to training with a local VFL club. What else can he do? The bonus of this is that many of his other team mates are there training alongside him, so it is an easy transition.

He receives phone calls of shared dismay and kind encouragement from people who know him and know football. There is disbelief. They tell him to hang in there, to not give up and stay focused.

Two weeks later the rookie draft comes up. This hardly excites him but it is his last chance for this year. He gets selected early by an interstate team. He is in! He is an AFL player with a team and a number.

So he has two days to pack his bags. He gets on a plane and leaves to go to a place where he has never been before and where he knows absolutely no one. He will have no emotional support base that is familiar to him. He leaves all of his friends, family, team mates, and everyone he has ever known in the world. He is still only 18 years old and he has a great deal of work ahead and one season to prove himself to these strangers.

The team Jeremy plays for has a bye this weekend so he is not playing even though he is raring to go. He is back doing full training sessions which this week included a session of surfing. He will go along as part of his AFL team to watch them play at home. They will need to play 100% better than they did last weekend. Unfortunately they lose again and even though Jeremy did not play he too is punished during the next grueling training session.

3. Not a fan

I am not a genuine fan of football. Not aussie rules, nor rugby, soccer, or any other game that lays claim to the word “football”. I am involved by default.

Being born and raised in Victoria Australia ensures I have an inherent knowledge of aussie rules football as “The Main Game” in town. For me aussie rules is football. All other codes require validation in normal conversation, but then I am from the generation from before the game went national.

Being an active girl I played netball, tennis, and competition swimming. Swimming was my main activity. I loved it with a passion. My sister, brother and I competed all the year around Melbourne and suburbs. Our parent’s involvement ensured this activity continued for us for many years. It kept us occupied and out of trouble throughout our teenage years. A responsible approach to parenting teenagers I later realised.

My father was not and still is not a football fan. Despite this my brother played the game, almost making AFL selection. Whilst my after-school activities were very active, at school I admit to being a nerd. I loved maths, physics, speaking French, and playing the piano. My preferred culture was not the popular culture associated with aussie rules. I was not a snob. I just had different preferences and football did not even appear on my list.

It wasn’t until I met my husband that my involvement in football began. He played for the local team and every Saturday my sister and I had to walk past the oval to get to netball. We were wearing our netball skirts of course and attracted the wanted and unwanted attention of the males gathered at the football – as only teenage girls can do.

Eventually I found myself regularly watching John play local football. It was a muddy, crude and aggressive environment unconducive to developing skills. He was quite a good player specialising in tackling. He eventually gave it away, turning his back on the heavy drinking commitment required at that level of football. We began a family and moved away.

Our youngest son Jeremy showed keen interest and natural ability with a football by about the age of three. Any chance to be outside with a ball; he was there. By the time he was six we couldn’t keep him off a footy field. His older brother was playing in a local team of under-10’s. Jeremy joined in. He played in that under-10 team for four years!

As a mother you want your children to do the things they love. I get profound enjoyment watching my children enjoy themselves. But it is also a source of extreme worry if these activities are slightly dangerous to their health and wellbeing. So watching Jeremy play football has always been with a mixture of pleasure, pride and worry. I am certain all footballers’ mothers would tell you of this internal dilemma. For the last 13 years I have watched Jeremy play football and I have felt this duality of emotion during every game.

But I am not a fan. I did not support an AFL team as a child or teenager. Since Jeremy started playing I have always wholeheartedly supported the team he was currently playing with. Ironically, now I do have an AFL team to “barrack for”.

I am surprised how football has changed my life. I am a convert to the game. I love it now. I appreciate the physical contest between athletic men. I am enthralled by the passion and the atmosphere at games. I am bewildered by the sudden change of flow that can and does often occur during matches. This inexplicable change of momentum often bringing unexpected results.

Jeremy played football this weekend having a run in the reserves. A guard was placed on his injured leg. He played in the mid field getting over 25 touches but he said his kicking was not good. The guard eventually caused his hamstring to cramp and he was moved into the forward line. His team won by over six goals. He hopes to get a spot back in the firsts next week.

Meanwhile his AFL team was convincingly beaten at home by a better side. Jeremy helped out by modelling clothes in a fashion parade for Mother’s Day. Now that is something I am definitely sorry to have missed. He will post some photos on Flickr for me to see.

2. No “I” in Jeremy

There is no “I” in Jeremy. He has always been the proverbial team player. He is humble. Even at an early age we noticed these tendencies. As he became better at the game he would encourage other young players by drawing them into the game with hand passes and encouragement. This came naturally to him. He never hogged the ball, often to the detriment of his own statistical game.

Not only is he well liked by his own team mates but opposition players like him too. He is fair and competitive. There is no ill-will in him. As he progressed up into teams of higher standards of play he would already know many of the other players who would already count him as their mate. He is a very likable person.

The year he kicked over one hundred goals for the season was in fact a team effort. Sure his goal kicking was on track, but once his team mates realised that the hundred score was in reach, they unselfishly fed the passes in to him.

I remember one day when Jeremy was heading in towards the goals and was within easy goal kicking distance. There was an opposition player and a team mate between him and the goals, so Jeremy hand-balled to his team mate over the head of the opponent. In the goal square the team mate then hand-balled back to Jeremy so that he could kick the easy goal and add to his score towards the tonne. This is typical of the kind of loyalty and bonds that he forges without effort.

There is no game for Jeremy this week though. During the week the doctor inserted a needle into his leg to withdraw the liquid from within the injury on his thigh. His training has consisted of a lot of swimming, weights and hand ball skills. He went along as a member of his AFL team dressed in his club suit and tie. This is a great learning opportunity for a young footballer. Being with the team in the room before and after the game prepares and motivates him for his time to come.

So for a footballer’s mother this means a respite. I don’t need to face the difficulty of trying to hear his game on the radio, and I can be free from the stress of worry. I can visit a local art show, watch some movies, and indulge in enjoyable exercise for myself such as road cycling and running events with a local athletics group.