Battle Royale by Tony Wilson

Author:Tony Wilson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2016-10-06T04:00:00+00:00

‘Um . . . sorry . . . I’m so sorry . . . I was trying to throw them . . . at him.’ Joel waved vaguely at Scott.

‘I was only trying to get me paper!’ Slug Moustache said, but then he grinned. ‘Ha! Pretty funny though. Never expected to get buried alive!’

Scott’s mouth was flapping like a goldfish. ‘You’re . . . you’re . . .’

‘Nugget,’ Slug Moustache said, holding out his hand. ‘Actually it’s Geoff, but you can call me Nugget — everybody does.’

Scott was stunned by the reappearance of Slug Moustache, the one who had rejected Troy.

‘You’re the Vic Country selector!’ Scott blurted. ‘You’re the one who . . .’

‘Scooter!’ Joel yelled. ‘Shhhh!’

Nugget’s eyes opened wide. He seemed amused and surprised to be recognised. ‘Why, that’s spot on, kid! How did you know that?’

‘We saw you!’ Scott said. ‘At the Sharks game last week. You were watching the twins.’

By now Adam had killed the motor on the mower. He walked over. Nugget watched him approach.

‘Good lord, you’re a Selwood!’ he said, extending his hand. ‘And your kid brother’s right. I am one of the Under-12s Vic Country selectors for the central Victorian region, and gee, it’s a thrill to meet you. You’re a hell of a player, kid.’

Nugget still had his hand out, so Adam trudged forward and shook it.

‘And this strapping fella must be Troy?’ Nugget waved towards Troy, who’d stopped bagging clippings. He started hand-pulling non-existent weeds out of the lawn.

Troy shrugged. He had been like this — low-spirited — since Scott had blurted the bad news. He didn’t answer.

‘Are you . . . Troy?’ Slug Moustache tried again.

Troy refused to look up. ‘Yeah, I’m Troy.’

‘Wow, both of you are here! You’re a jet, too, Troy! First class. One of the best forwards for your age I’ve seen for a long time around here. And believe me, I’ve been around a while.’

‘Why don’t you stop lying to my face, saying stuff like that?’ Troy snapped. ‘What’s the point of saying that if you’re not even going to pick me!’

‘Troy!’ Dad had killed the whipper snipper and removed his protective earmuffs, so he heard everything. He walked over to intervene. ‘That’s enough, Troy!’

But Troy hadn’t finished. ‘You stand here now, saying what a good player I am, but I know you’re not picking me! Maybe I’m not meant to know, but I know, because my two brothers overheard you in the grandstand last week.’

Troy pointed to his younger brothers. Joel felt sheepish about spying.

Nugget seemed more confused than angry. ‘What? That doesn’t sound right. What did you hear us say, son?’ He was staring at Joel.

‘Um, I think the other guy, the one with the hair who you called Rosco — he said that you needed A. Selwood, and then, you said he was best on ground and picked himself, then he said, “D’you want T.?”, meaning do you want Troy, and you said, “No thanks, one’s enough for me”.’

Nugget’s moustache started to twitch. Then it dived for the corners of his face as he started to grin.

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