No Press Freedom In Being Taped Up and Sock-Gagged By Jocks
By me, OrdinaryWorld :)
CHAPTER 1: Front Page
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This was a mistake.
One huge fucking mistake.
That is all I can think of as I peer around me and take in my surroundings. There are a few oblong-yet-deflated and classically-red Sherrin balls in the supply closet with me, along with a broom, a few chairs stacked upon one another, and a few articles of long-abandoned clothing with questionable cleanliness lying in a pile in one of the back corners.
The air is musty and stale, and I snort in the air, trying to combat the allergic reaction to the dust. Six of the uni’s footy guys I’ve been investigating are before me, sweaty and exerted after a shitty afternoon training. Triumphant smiles adorn their faces, but there is a certain shock, their eyes wide, almost as if they are as surprised by this whole… situation as I am. And what a bizarre situation it was!
I struggle against the constricting tape, yet there is no give. It’s bloody uncomfortable, and my face must undoubtedly be as red as the Sherrin right next to me. I wish I could call out for help, but the foul crew sock in my mouth would put a stop to that before I even started. Despite all the prior chaos, I caught a glimpse of the sock whilst the command of “Farken get it in there!†was being fulfilled. I didn’t have a clue of to whom it belonged, all I knew was that it was from the bag of one of the guys and its colour was a sickly brown, rendering it no longer white.
Oh, and it tasted unbearably salty and gross.
Despite the mouthy stuffing, I try to call out anyway with a pathetic “Mmmh! MmmmmPPPh!!â€
Naturally with my luck and the sock, it goes nowhere.
Flynn – the team’s famously talented captain and infamous person and one who I had never seen in person but had heard stories of – looks down upon my form. His eyes bore into me, with the steely intensity of both a man on a mission and one who rarely doesn’t get what he sees himself as being owed. I know then and there that once my mouth is unclogged of this “bad†sock (“FUCK me mate, that looks BAD, what the fuck?!†as one of the guys aptly put about 10 minutes prior), I will either confess to my doings on my own accord, or it will be forced out of me by him.
“Well, isn’t this something!†Flynn cackles, as his teammates look amongst themselves and me, laughing out of sheer disbelief at the absurdity of it all.
My eyes blink. How did I get here? Fragments of the past few weeks float into my conscious, as I try to piece it all together, anything to distract from my present situation crashing down more and more by the minute.
Allow me to introduce myself.
My name’s Hudson, an average uni kid studying journalism and politics at Empest University. I’m also one of the journalists and editors for the Empest Inquirer (or EI for short): the student-run magazine on campus.
Okay, that was a lie. I am not the average uni kid, because I was determined to break something – break a real story. Getting something major under my belt would make me feel like I did some real work, finally. Not to mention that it would also hopefully give me something real and tangible to put on my resume, Hell it could even be my ticket into a cadetship with The Age!
Which is why when I heard the rumours, I simply had to jump in and investigate. See, the footy club on campus – while great at the sport – had a rather undesirable reputation. They weren’t just warriors on the field, but in real life too. They were always up to something. God, you just had to be there on campus after the silly string incident. The Vice-Chancellor had to make a uni-wide announcement!
Silly string aside, they were also notorious for their internal culture. Rumours of alcohol-fuelled rampages at parties and hazing both against players AND non-players. Even a beating, although that was even more of a rumour and spoken in hushed tones. Basically, everyone had heard at least one story about them, and none of them were good. And Flynn, God, the rumours about him in particular: let me tell you, wild shit.
The uni had tried to step in several times: probation, suspensions, threats of deregistering as a club. You can make some temporary progress that way (it’s damn funny watching a group of macho blokes who probably sling around ‘faggot’ in private having to participate in Pride matches with rainbow socks) but it’s hard to stamp out a culture, if you get what I’m saying.
As such, I was going to write an article that put everything to light – all the stories, once rumours, into something verified, concrete. Some REAL journalism.
Emily – my boss at the student paper – had cautioned me. “You know, you could run into some serious shit here Hud. You know what they’re like.â€
“I know,†I replied with assurance at one of our weekly meetings, “but this is something I have to do. It could be our biggest story of the year! Think about it!â€
She put her elbows on the table and massaged her temples, and with an answer that still rings today, said “Alright, do it you fucken idiot, but you’re not getting any help from me or the other people with it. And give me reports! Lord knows we don’t need another defamation suit.â€
And so, I got to work. Posters around campus with the EI logo requesting testimonies, social media posts requesting interviews, interviewing the people who responded, official contact with the uni, everything. I got some damn good stuff too, juicy stories, and some even with photo proof!
But I didn’t have everything I needed. I needed more, it wasn’t yet complete. I got precisely what I needed when in a stroke of luck, I had a player on the team contact me who wanted to help me out – Chris. He privately told me that he was also worried about the team’s conduct and ESPECIALLY that of Flynn.
God… if only I knew.
Anyway, he informed me as to the best way to sneak into the central sports facility without detection, and that there would be a bonus training session in anticipation of the footy tournament starting back up again. He told me that after the training ended, I’d be able to listen in to the discussion of the footy team’s changing room via a small gap in the wall.
Rudimentary, yes, but it got the job done. What I didn’t anticipate though, was a random fucken player leaving early, and as such catching me in the act of staking out the changing rooms.
And THAT is when all hell broke loose.
Allow me to elaborate…
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We're back after almost 4 years (my first story was in May of 2021)! I hope you lot enjoy this one as much as my first tale.
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Cheers!
I guess he is no longer incognito for this news piece... 
