Clark Kent climbed the last few steps and checked the tickets in his hand.
"Are these our seats, Dad?"
"This is us."
His nine-year-old daughter - decked from head to foot in brown and gold, including her number 15 jumper and her scarf that proudly proclaimed she was in her tenth year of membership - looked back at him. "Eight seats?"
"Yup."
The girl walked along the empty row, plonked herself down, and planted her Hawk flag between two seats. "I bags sitting next to Seb," she said.
Clark settled his four-year old son onto the seat and sat next to him. The boy looked up with eyes that were replicas of his mother's. "Do you think we'll win, Dad?" he asked anxiously.
"I hope so," Clark answered fervently.
"We will," his daughter said, her voice devoid of all doubt. "We are Hawthorn."
"Geelong only lost two games all year," her brother said doubtfully. "And they slaughtered Port Adelaide in last year's Grand Final."
"We have Hodgey," his daughter declared.
Clark hid his grin. Sometimes, he wondered if Victoria thought Luke Hodge had more powers than Superman. "We know the Hawks will do their best, Austin," Clark said as he rested his hand on the boy's small shoulder. "We'll just have to hope that will be enough."
Austin smiled at him, and Clark hugged him closer.
"Dad?"
"Yes, Victoria?"
"Are Hodgey's ribs OK?"
Uncertainty had crept into his daughter's tone. "He says they're OK." Clark said.
She considered his statement for a long moment, and he knew what was coming next. "Do you know for sure?" she asked. "He was crunched bad last week."
"Victoria," Clark said with just a hint of admonition. "Hodgey says he's OK. Do you think Clarko would've picked him to play if they had any doubts about his fitness?"
Victoria accepted his reply with a tiny smile. Clark knew his secret was absolutely safe with her, but she did enjoy pushing the boundaries sometimes. He figured that shouldn't surprise him - after all, Victoria Kent was Lois Lane's daughter.
His son tapped on his arm, and Clark smiled down at him. "Do you think Mom will cry if we lose?" Austin asked.
"Maybe," Clark admitted. "But if she does, her two best men will give her a hug, and that will make her feel a whole lot better."
Austin smiled, dispelling his concern. Clark couldn't always see a lot of himself in his son but one trait they shared was how much they hated Lois being upset about anything.
"We're not gonna lose," Victoria said. She grinned knowingly at her dad. "But I still reckon Mum'll cry."
"It won't be the first time she's cried over Hawthorn," Clark said.
Victoria's jaunty confidence waned a little. "Imagine if we win," she said in a voice loaded with yearning. "Can you imagine how awesome that's gonna be?"
"The last time Hawthorn were in a Grand Final, I hadn't even met your mum," Clark said.
"Did you go to that game?" Austin asked.
Clark chuckled. "No, I didn't," he said. "I didn't barrack for Hawthorn then."
"He didn't even know that Hawthorn existed," Victoria said. She held her hand towards him. "Can I read the Record, please?"
Clark handed her the Grand Final edition of the Record, and Austin slid across one seat to sit next to his sister and look over her shoulder. Clark glanced down at the number 23 on the back of his son's Hawk jumper, and his memories wound back to the day in Geelong when he and Lois had strolled around the boardwalk at Eastern Beach - the day she had told him about another Grand Final and another Hawk wearing the number 23 jumper. Clark had wanted so much to hold her hand. Twelve years and two children later, and he still loved holding her hand.
The years had passed so quickly. Tomorrow was their twelfth wedding anniversary - officially. They'd celebrated their real anniversary three weeks ago with a family stopover in Hawaii on their way to Australia for the finals. How many times had they flown over the Pacific in those years?
At least fifty, Clark realised. And that didn't include the thousands of times he had flown to Melbourne to see Lois. Nor the times he'd been in Melbourne and flown back to Metropolis to be Superman. Nor when - once he and Lois had moved permanently to Metropolis - he'd brought Lois to visit Seb and Chris in what they had dubbed 'The Tower House of Toorak'.
The first two years of their marriage had brought challenges. The efforts to rebuild Hawthorn had been long and arduous. Pressing financial needs had meant that on-field results had suffered, and they'd finished second-bottom on the ladder in 1997, bettered that by only two places in 1998, climbed to 9th in 1999, and finally tasted finals again in 2000. However, success had been both limited and short-lived, and it had petered out to more disappointing years.
Finally, at the end of 2004, the winds of change had swept through Hawthorn. Alastair Clarkson, 'Clarko' - a man who had played for Melbourne on the fateful night of the merger match - had been appointed to the senior coaching position, and he had orchestrated a youth-oriented rebuilding program to develop a team that could be competitive in finals.
But that had all been in the future during the early years of their marriage. Lois had lived in Metropolis for three months each year, working for the Planet - initially as a junior reporter. The 'junior' part of her status had dropped away when, during her stay in 1997, the team of Lane and Kent had finally gotten incontrovertible proof that Lex Luthor was the Boss - and that he was the one who had ordered the placement of the bomb that had changed Mayson Drake's life forever.
Perry White had begged Lois to stay and be Clark's permanent partner in work as well as in life, but her mission at home wasn't yet done, and after Christmas, she had returned to Melbourne.
Their lives had fallen into a pattern that - although not ideal - was workable. Thanks to his superpowers and the privacy of Seb's Toorak house, Clark had managed to see Lois almost every day of their marriage.
Then, at the end of the 1998 season, Seb had returned to Melbourne and married Chris, they had moved into The Tower House, and Lois had moved to Metropolis. Clark still brought her home regularly - officially, they spent about three months in Australia each year.
Clark smiled as he recalled the night they had told Chris the secret. It was two days before her wedding, and Lois and Clark had decided that it was unfair to expect Seb to keep something like that from his wife.
The four of them - Clark was in Melbourne for the wedding - had been eating together in the dining room of The Tower House.
"Chris," Lois had said. "There is something we need to tell you."
The soon-to-be-bride grinned happily. "Seb eats fairy bread?" she guessed.
"He does," Lois said. "But that's not what we need to tell you."
"Seb's already married?" she said, trying to look as if she really thought that was a possibility.
"No," Lois said. "It's about Clark."
"Oh, I know *he's* already married," she said lightly.
Lois had grinned. "No. Something else."
"OK."
"He's Superman."
Chris had spooned a chunk of chocolate-ripple ice cream into her mouth as if Lois's disclosure contained nothing of great note.
"Did you hear me?" Lois asked.
Chris swallowed and nodded. "Sure, I heard you."
"Don't you believe me?"
"Of course I believe you."
Lois had looked shellshocked. "That's it?" she exclaimed. "That's *all* you're going to say?"
Chris had burst out laughing. It had taken a considerable time for her to regain enough composure to speak. "What would you like me to say?" she'd finally spluttered.
Lois's eyes had narrowed. "You knew, didn't you?"
"No," Chris said. "But I've seen how Clark begins to look fraught if he's away from you for half an hour. There is no way he'd go back to Metropolis and leave you here if it really meant he wasn't going to see you for months on end."
"So, you *did* know?" Lois said.
"At first, I figured that Clark must know Superman," Chris said. "They both come from Metropolis, so it seemed plausible. I assumed that to stop Clark getting unbearably morose, Superman brought him to Melbourne regularly to see his wife." Chris put down her spoon, wiped her mouth with the napkin, and grinned at Lois. "Of course, Superman is married, so I guess that means you must be Ultra Woman."
Lois had nodded, and both women had laughed riotously.
Lois still made an occasional appearance in the spandex suit, although she'd taken long breaks from being Ultra Woman during her pregnancies. When people enquired - and they did frequently - Clark said that he and Ultra Woman would welcome a child into their lives and remained deliberately vague. They both felt it was important that no one suspected Victoria and Austin had any link with Superman and Ultra Woman.
A squeal of delight from his daughter shattered the course of Clark's memories. She pushed past him to rush towards Seb and Chris as they slowly climbed the stairs.
Seb unfurled his arm from around his wife and hugged Victoria. "Hi there, Little Miss America," he said with a wink towards Clark.
"I am *not* Little Miss America," Victoria said firmly.
"You sound like Little Miss America," Seb persisted with a teasing grin.
"No, I don't," Victoria asserted. She was right. During their frequent visits to Australia, Victoria spoke like a born and bred Aussie. She had the accent, she used the slang, and she called Lois 'Mum'. As soon as they arrived in the States, she reverted to the all-American kid. Clark had noticed that Lois did it, too - although not as noticeably, and probably not as consciously, as their daughter did.
Seb placed his wriggling three-year-old son on the ground, shook hands with Clark, and ruffled Austin's hair.
"How are you feeling, Chris?" Clark asked.
Her hands rested on the very large abdomen that bulged under the Hawthorn jumper she wore. "I'm just hoping that I don't go into labour during the game," she said.
Seb grinned. "Imagine that! Imagine being born on the day Hawthorn win their tenth flag. That would be soooo cool."
Chris swatted his chest. "If I have to go to hospital during the game, you're coming, too," she said.
He kissed her cheek. "And I wouldn't miss it for the world. I was there at Max's birth, and I have no intention of missing the arrival of the second Master Wilton."
"It's a boy?" Clark asked.
Both Seb and Chris grinned. "Yep," he said. "It's a boy. The only bone of contention is his name. Chris wants to call him 'Cyril'."
Clark grinned. "Because of Rioli?"
"Exactly," Chris said. "Cyril's going to play a blinder today."
Seb tried to look dismayed. "Sometimes, I think she loves Cyril Rioli more than she loves me."
Chris caressed his cheek. "No, I don't," she said. "And anyway, he's about half my age."
"What about Crawf?" Clark asked. "You could call your son 'Shane'."
Chris turned around to reveal Crawford's number 9 on her jumper. "I will always love Crawf," she said. "He's been at Hawthorn for seventeen years and never played in a Grand Final. If we can get him a premiership today ..."
Her voice trailed off.
"She can't even think about Crawf winning a flag," Seb said, smiling down at Chris. "If she does, she gets all emotional."
Chris wiped her eyes. "It's the pregnancy hormones."
Seb put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her tenderly. "If Rioli wins the Norm Smith Medal, you can call our son 'Cyril'. Deal?"
"Deal," Chris said, smiling again.
There were dual shrieks from Austin and Max, and they both tore down the steps to where Barb Wilton was making her way towards them. She hugged the two little boys and then greeted everyone else.
"How's Dad?" Seb asked.
"They're all quietly confident," Barb said. "He messaged me and said it feels just like the dressing rooms before the finals in the eighties - they're all quietly determined that nothing will come between them and the flag."
There was silence for a moment.
"Do you think we can do it?" Chris asked.
There was another silence.
"Geelong have been the best team all year," Barb said.
"But it's about who's the best team on the day," Seb said.
"We'll do it," Victoria said with the confidence of youth. "We have Hodgey, and Mitch, and Cyril, and Buddy. This is our year." She smiled at Chris. "We *have* to do it for Crawf."
Seb turned to Clark. "Where's Lois?"
"She went down to the Cheer Squad," Clark replied. "She should be here soon."
||_||
Lois Lane watched as about thirty members of the Cheer Squad - those who were to raise the banner for the team to run through - filed onto the ground. They looked magnificent in their brown and gold top hats and flowing capes.
Lois couldn't help feeling nostalgic as she watched them walk around the boundary. It had been such a gloriously happy time in her life - cheering on Hawthorn every week, getting drenched when it rained, going onto the ground to do the banner, singing the song after a victory ...
Her eyes scanned the ground. The mighty MCG was looking spectacular. It was filling quickly and close to capacity already. There were large portions of the crowd that wore the blue and white of Geelong, but it was the abundance of brown and gold that brought tears to Lois's eyes. For a club that had had only twelve thousand members back in 1996, this was a statement of strength and unity.
It was time to get back to her family.
Her other family.
Her wonderful husband and their two beautiful children. Maybe the Wiltons had arrived by now, too.
A few minutes later, she joined them all and took her seat between Clark and Austin. Her son leant against her and smiled. He had Clark's smile ... and, as Lois realised, that guaranteed him a *lot* of female attention in future years.
Lois reached across her son to pat her daughter's arm. "You OK, Vic?" she asked.
Victoria smiled, but it was strained. Lois knew exactly how she felt. They both wanted this so much. Last night, when Lois had gone to say goodnight, they had talked about how much this meant. Victoria had asked a couple of questions, and before Lois knew it, she had launched into the story of Operation Payback and the fight against the merger in 1996.
When she had finished describing the night of the vote, Victoria's face was aghast. "I knew there was something about a merger," she said. "But I never knew it came *that* close."
"It came perilously close," Lois said grimly.
"I'm so glad," Victoria said. "I can't imagine not having Hawthorn."
"Neither can I," Lois said. "And one of the best parts is sharing it with you."
They had hugged, and Lois had left the room - overwhelmed with thankfulness that her children could share her love for the Hawks.
The beep of her mobile phone dragged her back to the present, and Lois pulled it from her bag.
'Good luck to the Hawks today, Love Dan and May.'
"Who's it from?" Clark asked.
"Dan Scardino."
Clark's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "When was the last time you heard from him?"
Lois thought back. "I think he sent a text when Victoria was born."
"What did he say?"
"Just 'good luck' for today." Lois read it again. "He signed it 'Dan and May'."
Clark grinned. "Sounds like he found himself a woman."
Lois texted a quick word of thanks and replaced her mobile in her bag. She slipped her hand into Clark's as she watched the players complete their warm up.
"You OK, honey?" he asked.
"I'm nervous," she said. "I want this so much. It's been seventeen years. I want a flag we can remember together."
Clark kissed the top of her head.
"Thank you," Lois whispered.
"For what?"
"For understanding. For never trying to loosen the ties I have with Melbourne."
"I wouldn't do that," Clark said. "After all these years, I understand."
"You were always understanding," Lois said. "Even when you didn't understand."
They laughed together, and Clark leant forward to drop a kiss on her mouth.
"Any regrets?" he asked. "Do you ever wonder what your life would be like now if you'd married a regular Aussie bloke and stayed permanently in Melbourne?"
"Not one regret," Lois said. "I have everything. You. The kids. A great job and a lovely home in Metropolis. Hawthorn and my family in Melbourne. I really do have everything."
"I'm glad you feel like that," Clark said. "Because I have everything, too. And it's all because of you."
His eyes dipped to her mouth, and he moved slowly forward to take possession of it.
"Mum! Dad!" Victoria called. "That's gross. Stop it."
The laughter erupted, and Clark winked a promise to Lois.
||_||
It was a great game.
An evenly poised first quarter led to a second quarter where Geelong totally dominated the play, but their inaccurate kicking for goal kept Hawthorn in the game. A seventy-metre goal from Clinton Young in the shadows of half-time gave Hawthorn a narrow lead of three points.
There was half-time entertainment, but it passed in a blur for Lois. In her heart, she had to admit that Geelong looked the better team. If it hadn't been for their wayward kicking at goal, they would be well ahead.
But Hawthorn had shown typical Hawk determination. One half to go. Two quarters. An hour of football.
She looked along the row. Barb, Chris, Seb, Victoria, Austin - their faces reflected her inner fears and hopes. Max's voice piped above the clutter of crowd noise. Lois felt Clark's arm slide across her shoulders. "The Hawks will be OK," he said quietly.
She managed a tight smile and willed half-time to pass quickly.
A few minutes later, two mid-teenage girls - similar enough in looks that they had to be sisters - tentatively approached Clark. Lois turned to them and realised that they weren't looking at her husband, but at her.
They smiled timidly. "Ah ... you're Lois Lane, aren't you?"
Lois smiled. "Yeah, I'm Lois."
"You got the story about Brownlow leak back in '96?" one of them said. "The one where the umpires' rooms had been bugged?"
Lois smiled, surprised that they had recognised her and shocked that they recalled the story. "Do you remember it?" she said. "Surely, you must have been too young."
"We were three," they said together.
"I'm Megan," one continued.
"And I'm Meredith," the other said.
"Hi, Megan and Meredith." Lois laughed. "You were reading my stories when you were three?"
"No," one of them said. "But our dad is the detective who worked with you on that case."
Lois delved into her memories of her first big story ... and the time she had spent in the police station waiting for the result of the sweep for bugs. "I remember ... the Lions supporter ... ah ... Ben! That's right, Ben."
They grinned. "You sent us a Hawk jumper each, and we started going to all of the Hawks games with Mum and Dad."
"You're still following the Hawks?" Lois said. "That's great."
"Thanks to you," Megan said.
Lois looked behind them. "Is your dad here?"
"Nah. He and Mum are overseas. They are going to be spewing that they missed the Grand Final."
"How did you recognise me?" Lois asked. "I haven't worked in Melbourne for a few years."
"Dad cut out the paper clipping. It was one of our favourite bedtime stories - how we all started barracking for the mighty Hawks."
Lois grinned. "Thanks for coming over and introducing yourselves."
"Thanks for steering our dad in the right direction," Megan said. "I have loved Changa for years. I can't imagine barracking for any other team."
"And I love Cyril," Meredith added.
"Go, Hawks," Megan said.
With a wave that included the whole group, the two girls walked away - one wearing 33 on her jumper and the other wearing 10.
Clark smiled at Lois. "Two happy converts," he said. "Did you really send them jumpers?"
"Yep. I met their dad just before the vote meeting, and he said that if Hawthorn survived, his family would become members."
"Looks like he kept his word," Clark said.
Now the diversion had passed, Lois's tension twisted through her stomach again. "Let's hope today is the day they are rewarded for their loyalty," she said.
The third quarter was more of the same. Hard, tough, tight football as two great teams fought for ascendency.
Then it broke wide open. Five goals in three minutes.
All to Hawthorn.
Three euphoric minutes where the Hawks rose above the contest to dominate ... and unlike Geelong, they made it count.
Twenty-nine points ahead.
Geelong retaliated with two quick goals, reducing Hawthorn's lead to seventeen points. The three-quarter time siren sounded, and Lois let out a long shudder-spiked breath.
A quarter to go.
One quarter.
Half an hour.
Hold on, she begged silently.
*Please* hold on.
Please don't let them come back.
Seventeen points.
Please let it be enough.
Clark covered Lois's hand. "See the score?" he asked.
"Ah ... yeah," she replied. "We're seventeen points up."
"Eighty-nine," Clark said. "Our score is eighty-nine - the year we beat Geelong by six points."
Lois felt her tension loosen enough to allow a smile. "Let's hope, hey?"
"We'll be fine," Clark said. "The Hawks don't lose grand finals from this position."
"I hope you're right."
"So do I," Victoria said, her voice tight with tension.
Lois reached across Austin and squeezed her daughter's hand. "It'll be OK, Vic," she said. "Do you really think Hodgey and Mitch will let this slip?"
Victoria smiled. "Not Hodgey," she said. She lifted her Hawk number 15 jumper from her bag - the day had gotten too warm for jumpers - and pulled it over her head. "I'm going to be wearing Hodgey's jumper when he wins his first flag."
Five minutes later, the siren sounded, and the final quarter began.
The first few minutes were tight. Then Buddy goaled from outside fifty metres. A few minutes later, Mitch booted a left foot goal.
And from then on, it was a blur.
With three minutes to go, the Cheer Squad began singing the Hawthorn theme song. Lois looked across to Barb and saw the tears running down her face. Chris was crying. Seb was trying not to. Victoria was grinning, her hands wrapped around her flag, her body perched on the edge of the seat in anticipation of the final siren.
"Do you think we're gonna win, Mom?" Austin asked.
"I think we are," she said, hardly daring to believe. "I think we are."
Time slowed. Lois urged it forward, craving the finality of claiming the flag, yet also wanting to revel in these final few minutes when everyone knew.
After seventeen years - hard years when extinction had come knocking - the flag again belonged to the brown and gold.
The siren sounded, and Lois leapt from her seat in pumping, gleeful celebration. She hugged Clark. She hugged Austin. She hugged Victoria. She hugged the Wiltons one by one. She even hugged the strangers who'd sat behind them throughout the game.
Yet they weren't really strangers. They were part of the Hawthorn family.
And the Hawthorn family were celebrating.
Ten electric minutes later, the official presentation began with the announcement of who had won the Norm Smith Medal - for the player judged best on ground.
"It's going to be Cyril," Chris said excitedly. "There was the goal when he crumbed it off Buddy. The tackle on the wing when he beat three Geelong players." She patted her stomach. "G'day, Cyril."
The announcer took the microphone. "The winner of the Norm Smith Medal is - from Hawthorn - Luke Hodge."
"Hoooooddddddggggggggggeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!" Victoria screamed. She turned to Lois, her face alight with exhilaration. "Hodgey won the Norm Smith."
Lois kissed the cheek of her excited girl. "He deserves it - he played a superb game."
Seb was grinning at Chris. "Sorry," he said. "No 'Cyril'."
"What about 'Luke'?" she suggested.
Seb grinned even wider. "Perfect," he said. "Luke Wilton - born in a Hawthorn premiership year and named after a legend."
The presentations continued as twenty-two children - dressed in full Hawthorn gear - came onto the stage one by one and placed a premiership medal around the neck of each Hawk player.
Last was Sam Mitchell.
After receiving his medal, he waited while Clarko was presented with his medal, and then they were handed the 2008 premiership cup. They lifted it high - to the ecstatic roar of the Hawthorn faithful.
A part of Lois's brain was recording this for future recall while, simultaneously, another part was replaying the memories of the past. Other Grand Final victories. Crimmo. Champion players. And the night of the merger meeting when she had feared that the fabric of Hawthorn had been too badly torn to ever recover.
It hadn't.
And now, twelve long years later, they were reaping the rewards of the battle fought and won that night.
Their membership was over forty thousand. It had grown steadily - even in the years when there was little on-field success.
They had lodged a profit every single year since 1997 and were debt free.
And now, they had the champion team.
The Hawthorn theme song reverberated around the MCG.
And the Hawthorn Family sang in celebration together.
||_||
Early the next morning, the stream of brown and gold began to seep into Glenferrie Oval. The Hawks no longer trained here, having been forced to seek larger and more modern facilities, but the heart of Hawthorn was here, and it was here that they gathered on the warm Sunday morning.
At the far end of the ground, the Grand Final was being replayed on a large screen. Groups of people were sitting on the grass, watching. Behind them, numerous kids kicked their footballs in a chaotic clutter of flying balls.
The air sizzled with victory. Anticipation, too. The players were to arrive soon - bringing the premiership cup with them.
Lois - one hand in Clark's, and one in Austin's, and with Victoria in front of her - walked through the gates and down the little slope.
"Can I go and kick my footy?" Austin asked, looking up at his dad.
"Sure, son," Clark said. "Stay close to the fence - we wouldn't want to lose you in all those people."
He nodded and took his football to the oval.
"I'll go and kick it with him," Victoria said.
"Thanks, Vic," Lois said.
"I'm doing it for me, not you," she replied with a grin.
"Oh?" Clark asked.
"It's your anniversary," Victoria said. "And we're at the place where you got married. I reckon it's a fair bet that you're about to start kissing."
Clark grinned. "Good idea, Victoria."
She wrinkled her nose. "Do you *really* still enjoy kissing? After all these years?"
"I sure do," Clark said. "Your mum is a supreme kisser."
"I'm out of here," Victoria said, and she hurried away.
Clark put his hand on Lois's back and guided her to the corner where the fence met the grandstand. She backed into the brick wall, and he leant against her. "Twelve years," he said quietly. "And you are even more beautiful than the day you were my bride."
"Aww, Clark," Lois said. She put her arms around his neck and reached up to kiss him. Before their lips met, her mobile phone sounded from her bag. She groaned but snatched the phone and checked the caller's ID. "It's Seb," she said. "Hi, Seb."
"G'day Auntie Lois," came Seb's elated voice. "Luke Wilton was born twenty minutes ago. A strong, healthy young man who will one day play centre half forward for the mighty Hawks."
9. Shane Crawford (Chris wore his #9 jumper to the final in Sydney in '96) - played for 17 years at Hawthorn (1992-2008), 305 games, 1 premiership (his last game).
10. Chance Bateman - 'Changa' - indigenous player.
11. Clinton Young.
15. Luke Hodge - Norm Smith Medalist (Best On Ground in the Grand Final). The previous week, he sustained a rib injury that some thought would keep him out of the GF.
(Hodgey's injury - (10:44))
23 - Lance 'Buddy' Franklin - kicked over 100 goals in the '08 season.
33. Cyril Rioli - at 19 years of age, the youngest man on the ground for either team. Indigenous player.
Alastair Clarkson - Clarko - the senior coach.
Glossary
Bags - dibs.
A blinder - when a player has a great game. 'He played a blinder.'
Crumbed - when the ball is spilt from a marking contest and a player who 'stayed down' takes possession of it.
The Footy Record - or 'The Record' - publication available for sale at the match.
Spewing - upset. 'He's spewing he missed the goal.'
