No one believed me when I found the haunted footy. It was in the grass on the side of the oval and when I picked it up and kicked it it grubbed straight through the goal posts. I was rapt. I’d never kicked such a good grubber before. I whooped with delight. Then I turned around and there standing before me was an ancient spectre, brown and crumbling with tomb dust sloughing off his shoulders. He was wearing a Numbats jersey with number 4 on the back. He looked at me for ages and finally said in a creaking whisper, “I’m Alfie Gunson... I have been haunting this ball for 80 years. Now you have released me by kicking it.”

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