Blue Bloods | Cookie and the calf blood

ON a Saturday morning early in 1996, 16-year-old Davina Wright (then Cooke) was woken in bed by a loud tap on her bedroom window. It was her sister, Louise, fully kitted out in Royals gear – socks up, boots on, head taped, ready to play.

“She’d run home from Rivett Oval to number three Bangalay Crescent and she’s telling me through the window, ‘get up and put footy boots on, the team is short, we need you to play’,” Wright says.

“I was reluctant, but there’s a part of me that is slightly terrified of my sister, so I don’t really remember if I had a choice!
“But she said, ‘don’t worry, we’ll just stick you out on the wing.’ So, begrudgingly, I headed off down to Rivett Oval.”

The next thing Wright knew she was gripping her sister by the jumper, crouching down in the front-row, and poised to pack into the game’s first scrum. She knew nobody except her sister. There was blood dripping onto
her right calf. “I wish I’d said no! I was angry, I was so out of my comfort zone and here were all these women touching me, invading my space!” Wright says.

“It’s when I met this red-haired second-rower – well, her head, anyway – when she packed in next to my hip. It was then that I felt the blood coming out of her nose dripping down my calf.

“And that was it: officially mortified. I wanted to hide. I was really not okay.

“After the scrum, I went straight to the sideline and dry-retched.”

After the game, though, Wright was approached by the tall, flamehaired second-rower whose dried blood was still on her leg. And the girl
was smiling, beaming, through her still-bloodied nose.

“She was so happy,” Wright says. “And she was the whole time after the game. Lindsay Morgan was her name. And that was it – friendship
formed, new team found.

“I was in!”