Ishmael and the Hoops of Steel

  I stared at him in disbelief.

  ‘Razz, didn’t you see Miss Tarango’s face just now when you oh-so-subtly tried to match her up with Mr Guthrie?’

  Razz dismissed my concern with a wave of his hand. ‘Bah! That’s nothing. She’ll end up thanking me. You’ll see.’

  I knew I couldn’t change Razz’s mind so I changed the subject instead.

  ‘So, are you going to do what Miss suggested? Are you going to seriously look at HPE teaching?’

  ‘Said I would, so guess I have to. But it’s a bit stupid, don’t you reckon? Me a teacher.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s stupid at all,’ I said. ‘You’re already coaching and training junior kids plus our volleyball team. You’re doing a great job as Sports Captain and Mr Murphy says you practically run those afternoon activities with the boarders. I think you’d be a great teacher.’

  ‘Really?’ Razz seemed more than a little stunned.

  At that point Scobie, Bill and Ignatius joined us at the table.

  ‘Hey, guys, wanna hear something hilarious? Miss Tarango and Ishmael think I should become an HPE teacher.’

  ‘An excellent idea,’ Scobie said. Bill nodded.

  ‘What, really? You too?’

  Razz looked at Ignatius. ‘I got a feeling these guys are just being nice, Prindabuddy. I know you won’t pull any punches, man. Tell me honestly – I can take it – do you really see me as an HPE teacher like Mr Hardcastle?’

  Ignatius thought about it for a moment.

  ‘No,’ he said.

  Now it was Scobie’s, Bill’s and my turn to be a little stunned.

  ‘See? I told you guys,’ Razz said, struggling to look pleased about being proved right. ‘There’s no way I could …’

  He was silenced by the Prindabel Power Pointer hovering in front of his face.

  ‘I haven’t finished,’ Ignatius said. ‘Mr Hardcastle could never have got me on to a volleyball court. You have. And I’m not hating it or afraid of it any more. So no, I don’t see you as a HPE teacher like Mr Hardcastle. But – and I’ll probably regret saying this – I think you could be a very different one … a better one.’

  ‘Really?’ Razz said, completely gobsmacked. ‘Gee … thanks … Thanks, Ignatius … thanks, man.’

  The bell rang for the end of lunch then and everyone got up to go. Razz was the last one to move. I think he was still trying to imagine a future for himself that he’d never even considered possible before.

  He wasn’t the only one.

  13.

  OPERATION GET RAZZ INTO UNI

  Like me, Razz kept his promise to Miss Tarango and he discovered at the Courses and Careers Expo that getting into HPE at uni was at least a possibility – if he could improve his grades enough. And yes, when you looked at some of Razz’s grades, it was a seriously big IF.

  Razz’s HPE results weren’t the problem. He was getting top marks there, at least in the practical assessment part. Modern History was solid as well. Ms Heckenvaal had made sure of that. And English and Film and TV weren’t too bad. But Maths, Multi-Strand Science and particularly Economics were a real worry. Razz had a big decision to make, and for once it wasn’t something he could joke his way around or rely on his natural ability to see him through.

  ‘If you’re serious about trying to get your grades up,’ Scobie told him, ‘we’ll all help you. Are you serious about it?’

  I’d never seen Razz look so nervous. It took a while for him to answer.

  ‘Yeah.Yeah, I am.’

  It was probably the hardest thing Razz had ever had to say. And as soon as the words left his lips, we had ourselves another quest. Operation Get Razz into Uni. It was decided that Scobie would oversee everything, Ignatius would focus on Razz’s performance in Multi-Strand Science and Maths, I would be responsible for English and Bill would cover Film and TV. We knew that Sally was also going to be a huge help. Our first task, however, was convincing Razz to ask Mr Barker to let him drop Economics where he was really bombing out, so he could use the extra time to work on improving his remaining subjects.

  ‘No way he’ll let me do that. After that Hamlet thing last year, Barker thinks I’m a waste of space.’

  ‘Hey, I bet your mother could convince …’ Prindabel’s comment shrivelled up under the heat of Razz’s glare.

  ‘What if I come with you, Orazio, and help argue your case?’ Scobie said.

  It was turning into a time of tough decisions for Razz, but he eventually agreed. The next day when Scobie and Razz returned from their appointment they told us that Mr Barker said he would let Razz drop Economics if he could prove that he was committed to his school work. That meant he had to pass all the upcoming end of semester exams and show a clear improvement in his overall grades.

  ‘Barker reckoned it wouldn’t be easy. But he said he thought I could do it. He even wished me luck.’ Razz shook his head in disbelief.

  ‘Firm but fair,’ Ignatius said with grin. ‘Mr Barker would make someone a great father.’

  But Razz was too lost in his own thoughts to hear.

  So with Operation Tarango already progressing steadily, Operation Get Razz into Uni lurched into life. If only Operation Get Kelly to Invite Ishmael to the Lourdes Formal was proceeding as strongly. And as for Operation Win at Least One Volleyball Match, that was about to come down to the final roll of the dice.

  But none of us could have predicted just how much would be riding on it.

  14.

  THE POOR SUCKERS ARE US

  By the time the mighty Fighting Fifths reached the final round of the volleyball season we had built a magnificent record of six losses and one forfeit.

  Our last game of the season was the return match against Windermere High. The last time we were down to play them they had to forfeit after most of their team was struck down with the flu. It gave us our only points. We didn’t even rate it as an embryo step since we’d done nothing to earn it. Ignatius suggested that we should mark it down as a zygote step and he was so pleased with this joke that for the next week or so he’d break into his weird, hissing laugh every time he thought of it.

  The Windermere High team were second-last on the points table, with a couple of very narrow victories. No prizes for guessing who was two points behind them at the bottom of the table. On the Monday before the match Ignatius caught up with us all in morning Homeroom. He looked pretty excited. He told us that he had discovered something ‘interesting’.

  ‘A whole new level on Super Nerdio Brothers?’ Razz suggested.

  Ignatius ploughed on without missing a beat.

  ‘No, something to do with volleyball. Last night I completed a thorough review of the entire season for Mr Hardcastle, checking the accuracy of all the points tables for the various age groups and analysing the position of each of the schools,’ Prindabel said, placing a folder on the desk and patting it gently with his bony hands. ‘Now, as you know, trophies are awarded for each of the five age divisions from Year Eights to Opens, and as the name implies, the Overall Champions Trophy is awarded to the school that performs best across all of those age groups. Now each team gets points for their age group depending on where they finish up on the table and these points contrib–’ Razz grabbed his head and crossed his eyes.

  ‘emergency! Emergency! Boredom overload. Brain freezing. Must. Get. Help.????

  ‘Maybe you could “cut to the chase”, as they say, Ignatius?’ Scobie said.

  ‘Right. Well, as it stands, even with one round to go, St Daniel’s has the Under 13 and Under 16 trophies wrapped up already and it’s the same with Churchill College in the Under 14s and 15s. The only age level still in any doubt is ours – the Opens. So that means, whoever wins the Opens trophy will be crowned champion volleyball school. Interestingly enough, in the Open division St Daniel’s and Churchill College are actually tied in first place, and according to my calculations, there’s only one result in this weekend’s Open division matches that can possibly move either a St Dan
iel’s or a Churchill team up or down the table and break the deadlock.’

  ‘Wow, really, man?’ Razz said, pushing his hands back through his hair. ‘You mean the whole season’s championship depends on one team and one game. Why didn’t you just say so? Talk about your humungous pressure! What game is it? Who are the poor suckers?’

  Ignatius Prindabel held up Saturday’s fixture schedule and pointed a long finger at the bottom of the list.

  ‘St Daniel’s versus Windermere High. The Open Fifths,’ Ignatius said. ‘The poor suckers … are us.’

  ‘What? No way! Your calculator must have Alzheimer’s, Prindabel. It can’t be us. We couldn’t possibly change the Open trophy points thingy. We’re last on the table. And whether we win or lose on Saturday we’ll still be last.’

  ‘Not quite, Orazio. If we lose on Saturday we’ll be last, yes. But if we win on Saturday, we’ll be tied for last with Windermere.’

  ‘Tied for last?’ Razz said, doing an imitation of that Home Alone kid. ‘Oh, wow! Yippie! Happy days! Yay! Notify the press! Let’s declare a public holiday!’

  Razz leant forward and patted Prindabel’s hand.

  ‘P-buddy, I don’t want to rain on your parade, dude, but “tied for last” is still “last”.’

  ‘Except,’ Ignatius said, pulling his hand from under Razz’s, ‘Rule 13 Sub-section (d) Clause (vii) says that “when teams are tied, the combined points for both positions on the table will be shared equally”. So, in our case this means you take the points for coming last, which is two, and add them to the points for coming second-last, which is four, so that makes six …’

  ‘I’ll be checking that later just in case you’re trying to put one over on us,’ Razz said.

  ‘… Then you share those points equally between both teams involved in the tie. So each team would receive three points.’

  There was no clowning from Razz this time. His eyes just grew larger and his mouth fell slowly open.

  ‘So if we beat Windermere and tie with them on last place, we’ll get one extra point for St Daniel’s.’

  ‘Correct. And that extra point will win St Daniel’s the Open Trophy and that will make us champion volleyball school. Isn’t mathematics wonderful!’

  Ignatius was beaming.

  Razz was going pale. ‘But what happens if we don’t win?’

  ‘If we don’t win, it will stay a tie in the Open division and Churchill will be awarded the Overall Championship Trophy because their Open Firsts are higher up the table than ours. That’s Rule 16.8.’

  Everything seemed to be closing in and pushing down, like someone had turned the knob on the gravity dial up to ‘crush’.

  Razz reached forward and grabbed Prindabel’s face in both hands.

  ‘Ignatius, listen to me. This is serious. Whatever you do, man, don’t let Hardcastle know about this, OK? ’Cause if he finds out, he’ll go completely nutso and our lives will be hell.’

  With his face still squeezed between Razz’s fingers, only Prindabel’s eyes darted back and forth bouncing around the rest of us. Then a word slipped out from his squished-up fish-mouth.

  Unfortunately for us, the word was ‘Ooops.’

  15.

  AIRY-FAIRY, TREE-HUGGING, CHEESECLOTH-WEARING, INCENSE-SNIFFING HIPPY TWADDLE

  Razza’s plea came too late. Ignatius had given a copy of his ‘findings’ to Mr Hardcastle as soon as he got to school. As it turned out, Razz was right about the ‘completely nutso’ bit.

  It started that afternoon when Mr Hardcastle turned up at our training to give us ‘intensive, individualised instruction’ for what he described as ‘the most important game ever in St Daniel’s volleyball history’. Apparently (as Mr Hardcastle was keen to remind us at every conceivable opportunity), in twenty-two years of trying, St Daniel’s had never won the Overall Volleyball Trophy. Fabulous, no pressure.

  Mr Hardcastle also announced that he was scheduling training sessions for us every day that week right up until the ‘big game’. That’s when Mr Guthrie suggested they have a ‘quiet word’. Everyone in the gym, and possibly some people outside, ended up hearing most of those quiet words.

  Mr Guthrie’s quiet words included things like ‘over the top’, ‘too much pressure’, ‘just a game’ and ‘carrying on like a lunatic’ while Mr Hardcastle’s quiet words were more along the lines of ‘character building’, ‘do or die’, ‘treating them like babies’ and ‘don’t give me any of your airy-fairy, tree-hugging, cheesecloth-wearing, incense-sniffing hippy twaddle’.

  A compromise was only reached when Mr Barker wandered into the gym to see what all the shouting was about. It was finally agreed that we’d stick to our normal two training days for the week but that Mr Hardcastle would work with us for the first day. He did, and it was pretty full on. When it was over we collapsed in an exhausted huddle on the gym floor for a Mr Hardcastle pep talk. He looked tense. After observing our team at close range all afternoon, he could probably see his dream of a first volleyball championship for St Daniel’s disappearing faster than wrinkles at a Botox convention.

  From what I could hear over my own wheezing lungs and pounding heart, the key message of Mr Hardcastle’s pep talk appeared to be that we were going to ‘kick Windermere’s lily white, pimply butts’ and show all those ‘wimpy ladies’ at Churchill College what ‘real men’ were made of. (I got a feeling that Mr Hardcastle hadn’t done Ms Heckenvaal’s History of Feminism unit.) The rest of Mr Hardcastle’s talk consisted of gems of wisdom such as ‘Quitters never win and winners never quit!’, ‘Go hard or go home!’, ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!’ and ‘Losing is NOT an option!’.

  Our second and final training session wasn’t quite so turbo-charged. We concentrated a lot on serving practice and finished with a muck-around game with Mr Guthrie joining in. When it was almost time to head off home we got our second pep talk of the week – only this time ‘Woody’ Guthrie style.

  ‘Look, guys,’ he said, shaking his dreadlocks, ‘if we win on Saturday, obviously that would be great. Amazing, in fact. But if we don’t win, just remember, nobody dies and the world doesn’t end. I don’t want you to let other people’s expectations and hang-ups weigh you down, OK? Just go out and have fun, give it 100 per cent and play for each other. Same as you’ve done all year. Do that, and no matter which way the result goes, you’re still winners. Any questions?’

  ‘Did you know that Miss Tarango is anti-whaling just like you, sir?’ Razz asked.

  I liked Mr Guthrie’s talk much better than Mr Hardcastle’s. And what he said made a lot of sense. But when game time arrived on Saturday and we saw the normally empty mezzanine level of the gym packed with St Daniel’s supporters including Brother Jerome, Mr Barker, Miss Tarango and, of course, Mr Hardcastle, the only words that stuck in my brain were these:

  ‘Losing is NOT an option!’

  16.

  THE RAZZINATOR

  When, we started our match against Windermere we had everything going for us – overwhelming home-crowd support, the incentive of a championship trophy for motivation and an opposition who had nothing much to play for.

  On top of that, during Monday’s training Mr Hardcastle had taken Razz aside for special tuition and made him practise his serving for ages against the Firsts. All the hard work paid off. As well as his stock serve, Razz now had a slow serve, a swinging serve, a top spin dipping serve and a bullet-out-of-a-gun serve that Scobie christened the ‘Razzinator’.

  Also, because of their last forfeit, Windermere had never seen Theodore morph into a giggle blob before. That meant that ‘the Brown Undies Effect’ was back in full swing and not only that, but the Mudman had brought along his A-game.

  We had more good fortune when we won the toss. Razz’s first six serves were virtually unplayable, including one sandshoe-crushing Razzinator that knocked the Windermere receiver clean off his feet. Then they finally managed a return of serve and one of the Windermere players successfully blocked one of The
odore’s shots at the net. The Mudman cranked his death glare up to ‘Annihilate’ while Razz leapt in front of him shouting, ‘No, Bunga! Stay! Bad! Mustn’t touch! Remember what happened last time. You don’t want to get that sticky red stuff all over your clothes again, do you?’ Windermere’s blocking didn’t seem quite as committed after that.

  Unbelievably, we ended up taking the opening set easily 15–5. Our embryo steps had gone straight to puberty!

  The second set was a slightly different story. The word had got around about why we wanted to win the match so badly. Now Windermere had something really worth playing for too – crashing our party and stopping St Daniel’s winning the championship trophy. As other matches finished and more and more of their supporters and players turned up to watch our game, our overwhelming home-crowd advantage dwindled away.

  But we had even more problems than that. Windermere had started to work out our strengths – i.e. Theodore and Razz – as well as our glaring weaknesses – i.e. the rest of the team. They began concentrating most of their efforts on Ignatius and Scobie and directed everything they could towards them. Scobie in particular became a very popular target for serves.

  We ended up losing the second set 15–9.

  It was all down to a third and final tie breaker set. First to seven. No advantage. We had a quick break filled with heaps of encouragement from Mr Guthrie and Razz and then returned to the court determined to get off to a good start, just like we did in the first set. The last thing we wanted was to find ourselves tied at 6—all with all the weight of the school on our shoulders and everything hanging by a thread on the very next point.

  Ten minutes later the game was tied at 6–all, we had all the weight of the school on our shoulders and everything was hanging by a thread on the very next point.

  Both coaches simultaneously signalled for a time-out. It was looking bad for us. Windermere would be serving the last point. Their best player had the ball in his hand. Scobie was stuck in the back court. He was giving it his all but he’d hardly dug a serve out all match. He’d be in their sights for sure. Razz, Scobie, Bill, Ignatius, Theodore, Melvin and I gathered in a close circle around Mr Guthrie. We waited for his words of wisdom.