A Footy Tale
Written: 2nd Jul 2004 | Last Updated: 2nd Jul 2004
After a little while, everything went quiet. There was a squeak at our back gate, and both boys came in looking for something extra-long to help rescue the football from an altercation with a tree. I offered to assist, but they were determined to undo the snafu themselves.
What had happened was the footy had landed way up in a wintering jacaranda. It was stuck forever as far as I could see, embraced by possessive, arm-like branches. It was too high for climbing, so the boys began launching things at it like so many bombs and javelins in the hope that one of them would hit the target and force the ball back to earth.
Of course, the first missile - a well-pitched tennis ball - got snared…then a garden fork went up and hooked a branch…a rake went up and stayed there…a broom followed and so did two enormously long, telescopic pool brush/scoop handles. Eventually, the jacaranda looked like a Christmas tree – and the red footy sat sturdy and defiant at the top like a star, refusing to budge. The whole construction looked rather wonderful, with fork tongs and aluminium poles shining in the weak, afternoon sunlight.
The boys now had a real problem. Not only couldn’t they kick the footy around, but neither household could sweep, dig, rake or clean pools until the implements were released from the tree. With intense discussion and considerable effort, each item was eventually retrieved…and the trouble-making football finally tumbled down to the boys’ waiting hands. The camaraderie displayed during the rescue mission was marvellous to behold.