Toby took her by the arms and held her back. ‘Settle, Liz. He’s out to it. Nothing you can do.’

She was sobbing, mascara streaking down her cheeks. ‘Will he be all right?’

‘Sure, he’s just knocked out.’

She glanced around wildly. ‘Where are my girls?’

Over at the fence, Wendy had corralled Liz and Mooney’s daughters, and they were both crying shrilly. ‘Mummy,’ one of them called out. ‘What’s happened to Daddy?’

Leon kept watch over Mooney, whose heart rate was fast. But he’d been running, so wasn’t that normal? Leon wished the ambulance would arrive so someone else could take over. He was the outsider here, and they trusted him to look after Mooney—if something went wrong, he’d be scum.

Mooney started to kick and jolt in a convulsion. Liz sobbed hysterically, and Toby led her away.

‘What do we do?’ Robbo leaned over, face twisted with concern. ‘Shouldn’t we pull out his tongue?’

‘No,’ Leon puffed, trying to restrain Mooney’s limbs. ‘That’s an old wives’ tale. We have to keep him on his side so he doesn’t choke if he throws up. Can someone get me a handkerchief or something? He’s frothing at the mouth.’ Everyone seemed paralysed, so Leon ripped off his jersey and wiped the saliva away.

Mooney stilled, then his eyes opened and he moaned and tried to sit up.

‘Lie down,’ Leon said. ‘You’ve had a knock to the head.’

‘Where the fuck am I?’ the blond man mumbled, groggy.

‘At the footy, mate,’ Toby said. ‘Semifinal. Remember?’

‘What day is it?’ Mooney glanced around wildly, obviously disoriented, but he allowed Leon and Mooney to lower him back down to the ground. Then he closed his eyes again, his face deathly white.

Leon was relieved when he heard the siren wailing. Someone opened the gates and the ambulance bounced across the field. The paramedics shifted Mooney onto a stretcher and slid him into the ambulance. They let Liz climb in and then they were away.

After that everyone stood round discussing whether to go on. The team didn’t feel right playing without Mooney. Some of them wanted to call it quits—their will to win had driven off in the ambulance. But Toby’s jaw jutted. ‘Mooney would want us to finish. He’ll be pissed off if we pull out.’

‘We’ll have to forfeit if we stop now,’ Robbo said. ‘It’s up to you, boys, but it’d be a shame when we’re so far in front.’

Toby glared at them all. ‘Come on. Get your arses into gear and win the game for Mooney.’

Reluctantly, the team agreed.