I keep thinking about it. There’s one guard, Cody, who lived here till his mum took him in when her pokies thing got sorted. He knows what it’s like, lets a few things go. One day, when the other guards were off dealing with a meltdown, he let Toby run on the grass for a few seconds. Toby still talks about it. I reckon for a quiet game, Cody would hide us in a cupboard, sneak us out late in the second quarter, when the ushers care less about where anyone’s sitting. The idea makes me think of when we were kids, how they’d let you into the cricket free during the last hour – till then, we’d peek through the chain-link fence and cheer when we saw the ball rolling on the sliver of grass between the stands. It was like seeing how the whole world works after being gummed up in the pages of a book written by some dumb-arse who had never gone to school.
