That set the tone for the session and there was no winning any favours. Leon worked hard, but no one would kick to him. They roughed him up, elbowed him, crashed into him, and wouldn’t handball to him even if he was right alongside. A blond bloke called Mooney took an instant dislike and shoved him into the mud at any opportunity. Mooney’s attitude was contagious, and by the end of training Leon was bruised and annoyed. One of the blokes proposed a visit to the pub, but they all avoided looking at him so he knew he wasn’t invited. Just as well, because to admit he didn’t drink would have been suicide.

When they left, Leon stayed back to have a word with Robbo, who glared at him with little pig eyes and no smile. Leon asked, ‘Am I in?’

Robbo shrugged. ‘Suppose so. We need you to make up the numbers.’

It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but Leon decided it was enough. He would prove himself out on the field.

‘How’s your fitness?’ Robbo asked.

‘Not bad. I’ve been lugging sleepers up in the park. They’re pretty heavy.’

‘You realise the other lads come first. They’ve been training all season, so you’ll be spending time on the interchange bench. The boys like to win. They don’t take kindly to losing the ball.’

This was a bit harsh, given that nobody had passed to him tonight. ‘Sure, I understand,’ Leon said, ‘but I hope you’ll give me a chance.’

Robbo wasn’t making any promises. ‘We’ll see how things go. Can you make it to the game on Saturday?’

‘I’ll be there.’

Leon shook hands and then left. But a surprise was waiting for him in the car park. While he’d been chatting to Robbo, the others had let down his tyres. At least he had a foot pump in the back, so he could sort things out. He supposed he’d better get used to self-rescue round here.

His mum rang as he was filling the tyres. ‘How did footy go?’ she asked.

‘Fine,’ he grunted, pumping with his foot.

‘That’s great, Leon. I’m so proud of you, making a go of it there.’ He heard the smile in her voice.

‘Any more visits from Stan?’ he asked. He was concerned about the influence of his dad’s old drinking mate. She was quiet, and worry welled through him like a fast-moving tide. ‘What’s going on, Mum? Has Dad been up to his old tricks?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘We’re good here.’

Leon thought her voice sounded strained. He would only know for sure if he saw her in person. ‘Glad everything’s okay, Mum,’ he said. ‘I’d better go. It’s raining and I need to get home for a shower.’