Into The Team (5 page)

“Cherrie’s really cool,” he told them. “She probably wants this more than I do.”

“Just make sure it stays cool,” Trent said. “The boss expects you to put the club first.”

Todd knew he’d be fine; he and Cherrie’s relationship wasn’t intense to the point that it blocked out everything else. They both had lives away from each other.

Noise from the doorway made them turn. Three more lads came in and started undressing.

“This is Luke, Brad, and Marco,” Trent said as the newcomers stripped off.

Todd recognized Luke Hardman as a regular sub for the Reds matches; the boss seemed to favor him over the rest of the bench. With a firm jaw and rigid brow, people often said he suited the name Hardman.

Todd had seen less action on the field from Brad and Marco, but he’d seen their faces many times. Marco Vela was half Spanish, half English, and had grown up in Yorkshire, complete with that thick Yorkshire accent. His dark eyes and black hair, short and curly, around an olive skinned face, earned him a lot of attention from teenage girls. Brad McEvoy was built like a bull, more muscular than the rest of the team, and Todd often admired his physique when he’d seen him with no top on.

The three guys changed into their trunks and dove in. Swimming fast and smoothly across the pool they soon joined the group.

“Hey! New boy.” Marco swam up to Todd and plonked both hands on his shoulders, knocking him beneath the water. When he surfaced, Marco gripped around his shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Welcome!” He grinned.

Todd had no time to acknowledge him before Luke and Brad piled on and he was knocked beneath the water again. With firm torsos all around him he fought for air, and when he broke the surface again, he was smothered in arms and gripping hands.

“We need to check you out.” Luke nodded to the poolside. “Come on; let’s see what you’ve got.”

The rest of the guys shouted encouragement, so Todd swam to the edge and climbed out. He knew he had a powerful looking frame, so was in no shy mood about showing it off.

Standing on the side, he turned to face them. Their eyes scanned his dripping wet body.

“He has more muscle than you, Brad,” Marco shouted.

“No chance.” Brad gave Marco a headlock and shoved him beneath the water.

“I think so.” Trent grinned.

“Me too.” Gavin nodded.

Brad appeared unfazed by their teasing and glided through the water to where Todd stood on the edge. After lifting himself out, Brad stood alongside and flexed his biceps. Todd knew Brad was more muscular than he was, and so figuring the other guys were teasing, he posed along with him.

“Yeah, Todd definitely has more meat on him,” Luke shouted. “You’ve been beaten, Brad.”

Laughs and whistles echoed around the basement.

“Fuck you all,” Brad shouted. “Fuck you all. I will never be beaten.”

He grabbed Todd by the waist, and in one swift move, dived into the pool while gripping his body tightly.

Water flushed up Todd’s nostrils, and he fought to get free. But Brad gripped him tighter, binding his legs as he took him to the bottom of the pool.

Like underwater wrestlers, they locked bodies along the bottom. Todd kicked and elbowed, trying to break free from Brad’s firm hold. But Brad held hard against him.

After almost a minute of holding their breaths in the friendly tussle, Todd felt the grip loosen and swam to the surface.

“Ok, no more messing,” Gavin shouted with a stern face. “Ten laps each, then we hit the sauna.”

The six reserves nodded, and, like soldiers given the order, lined up along the side. Todd fell in between Luke and Brad, and when Gavin shouted go, they kicked off into freestyle strokes.

Todd did the front crawl, but his technique wasn’t as good as it should have been and he forgot to breathe every third stroke. He finished last, with lungs on fire as he climbed out. He stopped to take a few breaths. Having not swum competitively for years, he trailed behind the others, who seemed relaxed as they headed around the pool towards the sauna.

Inside, Todd sat between Trent and Brad.

Faces calmed, breathing slowed, and Todd felt his lungs deflate gradually from his swim and he soon sunk into the pressing heat.

Looking around at the guys, he could tell they were all close. Thighs relaxed against thighs, shoulders slouched to the wall, gently pressing against each other’s. Brad’s arm rested idly against Jake’s leg. Luke and Marco had their heads tilted, seeming to support each other as they leaned in the corner.

Only Gavin appeared alert. He sat opposite Todd and stared at his face the whole time, giving simple, forced smiles, Todd thought. The eyes seemed to be doing more than sizing him up. To Todd, they were assessing something more than a simple addition to the team, or what may be regarded as new competition amongst them.

But Todd wasn’t intimidated, not now he was part of a major fucking club. He was expecting some animosity from the other players; in fact he was expecting more than what Gavin was giving off now. But the other lads seemed genuine in their friendliness, keen on having him here, and so he relaxed into his sauna, not caring about Gavin’s staring eyes.

Getting up the first day wasn’t as difficult as he thought it would be. Just minutes after his alarm went off, Luke knocked and entered Todd’s room, shouting at him to get on with the day. He appeared happy to see Todd up and dressed in his new tracksuit.

They were at The Valley five minutes early and this gave Todd the opportunity to marvel at the place.

Like its name implied, it was situated between two flowing hillsides. The building was a modern complex with wooden facings and a flat roof. At the back there was an indoor pitch, and beyond that, a full sized outdoor field.

The training was a shock. Wayne and the other coaches had them running back and forth, dribbling the ball between cones, doing hundreds of sit ups, push-ups, and on the spot running. When it was time for lunch, Todd felt like he’d been knocked senseless. But the adrenaline ran through him like a hot volt, and seeing the same adrenaline in the eyes of his new team made him want to carry on.

The medical exam after lunch was a breeze. He had to strip off, get weighed, heighted, and even had his balls tickled. When the nurse finished asking her questions about his health, he was allowed to return to the house where he ate, swam, took a sauna with the lads, and then slept.

The serious stuff came early on Tuesday morning. A man in a dark blue suit whisked Todd away from the lads as soon as he got to The Valley. In silence, he was taken to a cozy room with low-lying tables and comfortable leather armchairs.

The man called himself Alex Milton, and he gave Todd careful, but friendly glances as he took a series of documents from his brief case.

“These make up the contract and other agreements between you and the club.” He smiled as he placed the first one down in front of Todd. “It’s a six month contract to train and play matches, when required, for the club.”

Todd lifted the first page and saw his name and that of the club included in the printed text. His eyes fell on a number.

“One thousand pounds a week?” he blasted before looking closer. “Oh no, one thousand a month.” He felt his face go red.

Alex smiled. “That’s your allowance. It may not seem like much but it’s a good start. Plus, you don’t have any expenses to pay out. Accommodation is provided; the club pays bills. The allowance will be taxed as an income. There will also be discretionary bonuses paid out from time to time when the boss thinks you deserve it. It could be extra money in your bank account, or it could be some other commodity.”

Todd swallowed and nodded. One thousand pounds a month was nowhere near what the first team got, but for Todd, after having nothing for the past few years, it seemed like a small fortune. He’d be able to send some to his mum.

After signing the document, Milton dished out form after form detailing the legalities of his contract. Todd was not allowed to talk of the club’s methods, practices, training schedules, match talks, or anything relating to what went on between the players and the boss.

There was even a document which listed all the things Todd would not be allowed to eat and drink: chips, hamburgers, crisps, confectionary, fizzy canned drinks, and alcohol. Although there was a footnote stating that alcohol was permitted from time to time under the boss’s discretion.

Todd didn’t care and signed everything that was passed to him.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Alex asked.

Todd nodded and told him about Cherrie. Alex smiled, but his eyes were serious as he listened.

“Well…” he said, after Todd spoke of how long he’d been seeing her. “Girlfriends are fine as long as they remain outside the club. And by this we mean that she doesn’t become a factor in your ability to provide for the club. Aiden Marshall has a motto that all his players stick to. The motto is that girlfriends are for the paparazzi, not for the players.” His eyes narrowed.

Todd figured Cherri would love being photographed but wondered what this meant.

“Not for the players?”

“Don’t take it literally. What he wants is for you to put your fellow teammates first. They come before the girlfriend you understand? It is they you need to relate to more strongly than the girl you’re photographed with.”

Todd understood. Being part of a team meant you had to develop strong bonds.

“If emotional problems arise, you seek immediate help from Aiden or any of the lads,” Alex went on. “No keeping things bottled up, and no trying to work things out alone. The team is there for you and you should be there for the team.”

Todd liked the sound of that. He never bottled things up anyway; and he and Cherrie were too casual for emotional problems.

“Sex now…” Alex produced another document. “It is a strict requirement that on the morning of a match, whether it is first team, reserve, or charity, or whatever, you do not have sex with your girlfriend. In fact, sex with your girlfriend is discouraged when going through any heavy training period like the one you’re going through now.”

Todd felt his throat go dry. He’d never talked about sex with anyone but Cherrie before.

“Of course, we can’t keep an eye on you twenty four seven. But we expect these ideals and guidelines to be kept in mind when spending time with your girlfriend. The reason for this is simple. Sex uses energy, and Aiden wants all energy to be channeled into making the team work strongly together. So, if you’re selected for a match, you should have no contact with your girlfriend between waking up on the day of the match and until after the match is finished.”

He handed Todd a document which stated this.

Without thinking if he’d be able to comply, Todd signed it. If he were selected for a match, he probably wouldn’t know Cherrie existed.

After all documents were signed, Alex gave Todd his copies.

“If you train well, and you play well,” Alex said with a smile. “In six months from now you will be signing another contract worth a lot more than this one.”

Todd thanked him, dazzled by the confident tone Alex had used for those words.

Later, after training, Todd headed inside with the lads. But before he reached the locker room, Wayne Maxwell gripped his shoulders.

“You’re not finished,” the captain said. “Someone wants to speak with you. Head back out to the field.”

As the lads disappeared through the locker room doors, Todd headed back out of the building.

Standing alone on the field was Aiden Marshall.

Todd’s legs felt weak as he sprinted the short distance to where the great man stood. The boss wore a shirt and tie, hands in pockets and his head high.

As he approached, Todd saw a man who looked no different from the many shots he’d seen of him standing by the sidelines. His age didn’t show. For thirty-eight he could pass as a twenty-something. Short, dark cropped hair, tense grey eyes, and tough looking shoulders, gave him a hard, don’t-mess-with-this-guy, appearance. And when he finally reached him, Todd felt he should bow his head slightly. Instead, he smiled and held out a hand.

Aiden shook it firmly and looked at him for a long moment, his eyes distant but friendly. With a slight nod of his head, as if confirming something quietly to himself, he gestured for Todd to walk with him.

“You have a decent left kick,” Aiden remarked.

Todd wasn’t expecting a compliment to be the first words from the man. He coughed.

“Thanks, sir.”

“I’m not a sir yet.” Aiden smiled. “But you can call me boss, the other lads do.”

“Thanks, boss.”

“I’ve been watching you from my office carefully,” he said. “And, although I’ve looked for it, I haven’t found much to worry about. You’re fast footed, seem to have stamina that just keeps on coming, and three times I’ve seen the flow.”

“The flow?”

“Yeah, the flow.” Aiden stopped walking and turned to him. “The flow is something all my boys have. It’s what makes a player worth selecting. There are times, when watching a game, I see someone get the ball and take off with it. They could be anywhere on the pitch, even at the opposite end from where they need to be. But the moment they get the ball, I have this silent voice inside, telling me this is it. Even if at first they just tap it here and there gently, appearing not to know what they’re doing with it, I can tell something big is about to come. I can see it in the way they move their feet, the look on their faces, the total concentration in their eyes. Their legs are a blur and the ball seems to come to life at their feet. At times it can look like the ball’s following them instead of them following the ball.” He chuckled. “And no matter who is in front of them, how much defense they have to get through, that ball goes in the net.”

Todd nodded. He’d seen this in games before, and those goals were the ones that stuck in the nation’s memory.

“You’ve given me that silent voice every time I’ve watched you play so far.” Aiden’s eyes were narrow but glowing. “And I feel good about letting Dixon bring you to trial last weekend.”

Hearing those words, a lump lodged in his throat.

“Thanks, boss.”

Aiden grinned and rocked his shoulder for a second before drawing a serious face as he turned to walk again.

“Have you had a chance to read the agreements you signed today?”

“No boss, but I don’t see any problems.”

“That’s good. You see, I’ve had this team going strong for eight years. They’re a tight pack, they know each other, they even know what each other is thinking. That’s what is needed if you want to win on the field. My players have to work together in a way that looks to everyone else like they’re a single mind.”

“I understand, boss.” Todd thought about how close even the reserves were. “I think I’m getting to know the lads well.”

“I want that,” Aiden said. “I need you to think of them before you think of yourself. I need you to know them more than you know your own family.”

He stopped walking again and turned to him.

“You have a girlfriend, yes?”

Todd nodded.

“Well, you know girlfriends come in handy for the press coverage. But I’ll tell you now what I’ve told all the others. Let them have their designer wear, let them have their tit jobs, their hair appointments, and their starry-eyed moments in front of the cameras.” His face drew stern and he looked at Todd like a father giving his son a meaning-of-life talk. “But you don’t let them have you. You are for the team, and only the team.”

Todd swallowed. He’d heard hints of these words all week, but hearing them from the boss himself, sent tremors through his guts.

“I understand boss.”

“Any problems, you come to me, or you talk to the rest of the players. Never discuss problems with your girlfriend, no matter how slight you think they are.”

“Yes, boss.”

Aiden watched Todd’s eyes, as if making sure he understood. Seeming satisfied, the boss nodded slowly and lifted his head to gaze across the field where a lone player sprinted. Todd followed his gaze and watched the player. With his shaven head, deep furrowed brow, and thick muscular legs, Todd recognized him immediately as one of the main strikers - Jason Collier.

“He’s been playing at this club for ten years. But I’ve known him since he was seventeen, when he was starting out,” Aiden said as he watched him. “He’s thirty five now, and he’s played for four different English clubs. He always says to me that this is the best club he’s played for, and that shows in his loyalty.”

Todd noticed the player stop and lift his right foot. His hand rubbed around his ankle for several seconds before he continued running.

“He’s injured now?”

“He’s had a slight strain that’s all. Injuries are rare on my team, and if any player does suffer, they recover quickly, with the help of their fellow teammates.”

Aiden patted Todd’s back gently.

“Anyway, keep up the good work, remember what I’ve said today, and you’ll be playing a match at The Quayside before Christmas.”

Todd looked into the man’s eyes and saw he wasn’t just saying it. The image of marching out onto the pitch at The Quayside stadium with ten other men, wearing bright clean red shirts and jet-black shorts flashed through his mind.

“Thanks, boss.”

Aiden gave a soft, self-assured smile. “Go relax in a hot bath.”

Todd turned and jogged towards the building, his head on fire with thoughts of playing in a stadium match.