'Crossing the white line'

  It was not a day made for pretty football. The winter rains had arrived with a vengeance the week before, and on the morning of the game more heavy showers had fallen. Clouds hung dark and leaden on the Adelaide hills, and the city skyline was strangely lit against the dark sky. The wind was beginning to whip the tops of the eucalypts and bare-branched poplars that ring Richmond Oval. The ground was green after the recent rains but the grandstand wing was churned up by the earlier Reserves game that the home team had hung on to win by a point.

I searched for Chalien, Tony and Andrew in the stands, hard to pick out among the sea of red and black of West Adelaide's colours, and the similar red and blue of Norwood's. We saw each other and Chalien came down to give me the ticket, kindly pre-purchased for me.

            'How was he?' I asked. 'Nervous?'

            'No, he seemed alright. Bit keyed up, but otherwise OK,' Chalien told me.

            It was Aaron's first league game, a first for the Bayliss family.

            'I sat on the bench for two league games for North Adelaide,' Tony told me in answer to my question, 'but, in the days before the interchange rule, I never got to cross the white line onto the field, so I was never recorded as having played. My dad played a few games for Norwood Reserves, but he too never made the firsts.'

            'Like my own father,' I said. 'Broke his collarbone at training in the week he was to make his league debut, and never got the chance again.'            

    The cheer squads for the two teams were huddled on the ground as they waited for the entrance of the teams. They endured a sharp shower of rain that left puddles of water on the sides of the oval and drenched the crepe paper banners, so lovingly prepared in the previous week.  When the West Adelaide squad lifted their banner for the team to run through, it disintegrated immediately offering less than a second's exposure to the message of the 'Mighty Blood 'n Tars'. The opposition's banner fared little better, but was held together by the photo of their 200-game player. Perhaps a portent of what was to come for the home side.

            'C'arn the Bloods!' The home side's supporters gave voice as the home team ran onto the field. Aaron bent to touch the turf with each hand in his familiar pre-game routine, and after the warm-up, took up his position in the forward pocket.

'Go Westies!' The home crows urged their team on as the umpire tossed the ball up to begin the game. A Bayliss had crossed the white line into league play and a new era had begun.

            First blood was drawn by the opposition, a rushed behind. West cleared the ball down the grandstand wing, and Aaron soon had his first touch in league football, a kick forward. The ball moved back and forth on the ground and was soon again in West's scoring zone. Aaron handed out a pass that led to a goal for the home side. However, this was the last goal West would see until the second half as scoring for the home side dried up. At the first quarter siren, Norwood led by 15 points—four goals one behind to one goal four behinds.

            Aaron had been taken to the interchange bench halfway through the first quarter and returned to play halfway through the second quarter. The second quarter was dominated by Norwood, who kicked three goals four to West's solitary point, giving the visitors a six-goal lead at the half-time break.

            The day had become darker and the wind colder as the day progressed, and the thermos of coffee was welcome. The smell of frying onions was almost irresistible and long queues formed at the sausage sizzle.

            Injuries to two of West's players reduced their interchange bench to one player but something the coach said at half-time had rallied the home side as they came out full of running. Early in the third quarter, Aaron marked in the right forward pocket, thirty-five metres out from goal and speared through his first league goal, the first of three for West in the quarter, and their haul of three goals three for the quarter reduced the deficit, but two late goals from the opposition left Norwood with a healthy 26 point lead at the last break: Norwood nine goals four behinds, West four gaols eight behinds.

            By now the day had become dark and bitingly cold and the hills and city were obscured by cloud. The middle of the ground was a mud-patch and the ground heavy. Conditions were not made for pretty football, and the game deteriorated into a scramble for possession of the slippery ball. Norwood added two goals and West a belated single near the siren and Norwood ran out comfortable winners by 31 points—eleven goals five to five goals ten.

            As a spectacle, the game was not memorable. However, for one Norwood player, it was a special occasion as he celebrated 200 games of league football. And for the Bayliss family, it was also a special occasion. Maybe, as coach Shaun Rehn remarked after the game, it takes fifty games to make a league footballer, but Aaron had crossed the white line for the first time. And nobody can take away the thrill of the first league game, the first touch in league football, and the first goal—kicked from the right forward pocket of Richmond Oval on Saturday, June 18^th, 2005 at 3.30 pm.

            And let's not forget the stats!

Best players:             Dragicevic, Jericho, Donaldson, Bayliss, Porplyzia.

Goals:                         Wiggins 2, Dragicevic, Bayliss, Fisher 1.

Kicks:                         9 (only 2 players got more)

Marks:                        3 (only 4 players got more)

Handballs:                  3

Frees for:                   1

Frees against:           1

Tackles:                      2 (only 2 laid more)

  Congratulations, Aaron. It was special to be there for your first. I hope that I'll be there for your 200th.

  From your grandfather, Neil Quintrell

20 June 2005 

 

Creative Writing