'Boom! Splat! Four of them were all over me. As we hit the ground the only bit of me sticking out from under the pile was my left foot. One by one they slowly peeled off me, until I was the only one left lying there in the mud. I couldn't move. I didn't have enough wind left to hoist myself up onto my feet.'
When daylight comes it'll be Saturday morning. At ten o'clock Jack will be on Jefferson Street Reserve, playing against Carlton Park. It's a gruesome thought. It'll keep him awake for the rest of the night. Jack makes a promise to himself. He won't go back to sleep until he comes up with some killer moves.
