Into The Team (20 page)

Todd gazed at the floor, his breathing back to normal. “I don’t know,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting this. That day was special for me too, it was the last day we spent time together.”

“I’m sorry,” Daryl said. “I’ll turn it off.”

As he turned to switch the player off, Todd reached out for him. “No. It’s ok,” he said gripping Daryl’s shoulder. “We can watch it. I’m ok.”

Daryl hovered in front of the screen.

“I’ll be alright,” Todd assured him. He wiped his eyes again and opened them wide, smiling as he did. “Look, no tears.”

Daryl nodded slowly. “Come on.”

With an arm around Todd, he lifted him off the floor. Resting his head against Daryl’s shoulder, Todd smiled as they settled on the sofa.

They watched the match in silence, right to the end, and saw that incredible run they both made up the pitch, the one where Todd remembered feeling like he’d turned to liquid, taking Daryl’s final pass and slamming it into the net.

As the camera zoomed out and he saw his father rush onto the field to grab him, Todd closed his eyes. And as he did, he felt Daryl’s arm flex against him, giving a tender grip that made Todd reach his arms around Daryl.

Saturday’s game was in Bristol. They played a lower table club and trashed them six nil. Sean Thompson scored three, Jason Collier scored one, and Daryl scored two. Todd was quietly pleased as he watched from the crowd, especially when Daryl’s reaction to his goals was little more than a smile and a brief clap of his hands. Daryl showed total confidence throughout the game, and Todd felt that confidence with him, as though he were out there on the field, playing alongside him.

Watching Daryl’s lithe elegance mesmerized Todd. His form was fluid and certain, the way he weaved through the opposition, almost like a ghost in the brilliant white away kit, brought back that game they’d shared as kids. It made Todd’s heart warm to know, after all these years, that Daryl was the kid on that pitch who had struck up an unspoken alliance with him and helped him score a goal that had made his father proud.

When Todd had woken up on the sofa yesterday morning, with his arms wrapped around Daryl’s waist, fully clothed, their heads resting against each other, he hadn’t been surprised. There was no WTF moment. No sitting up frowning, or carefully pulling his arm from underneath Daryl’s back, trying his best not to wake him, out of fear they’d have to look at each other and ‘deal’ with the unplanned sleeping arrangement. Instead, Todd had remained unmoving, enjoying the sound of Daryl’s soft breathing and the slow rise and fall of his diaphragm. Although there had been nothing sexual about those moments, there had been something. But Todd hadn’t known what that something was because he’d felt nothing in his life before to compare it to. Not even with Cherrie. But he remembered thinking in those moments that turned to minutes, before Daryl woke up and turned his head, giving nothing but a restful smile, that he didn’t want anyone other than Daryl beside him.

As dusk settled, the team charged back up the motorway with high spirits. Still four points clear at the top, and with an increase in goal difference, lots of laughing, shouting, and the odd sing-a-long (‘the Reds keep em coming, the Reds keep em coming, the Reds keep em coming till they shoot, shoot, shoot’). Even the air inside the bus seemed to join in.

As they neared Greater Manford, and energies seemed to dwindle, talk amongst Trent, Gavin, and Luke, who were seated around Todd, turned to Wednesday’s charity match.

Halfway through the conversation, the boss walked up the aisle. Signaling to Todd, he nodded to the back of the bus.

Todd followed the man towards the backseats where Wayne and Craig sat. Before he reached them, the boss turned around and gestured to an empty seat. Todd stepped in and sat down. Aiden sat opposite, one foot in the aisle, his body turned slightly towards Todd.

“Wayne’s provided me with some good reports,” he said quietly while leaning across. “And from what I’ve seen myself, you’re looking more match-ready by the day.”

Todd felt a growing pride as the boss nodded with his words. Even though Gavin had told him he was always going to be on the bench for Wednesday’s match, it was still good to hear praise from the boss. So keyed up by what he was hearing, he forgot who he was talking to and made a confident statement.

“I know I’ll be on the bench,” he said. “And I aim to be ready when called.”

But the boss shook his head and gave him a grave look.

“Oh, no,” he said. “You will not be on the bench.”

Todd’s mind collapsed and he opened his mouth to ask how the boss could praise him one minute, and then say he wouldn’t be on the bench? The words didn’t come.

The boss winked. “I’m playing you from kick off. You’ll be midfield with Daryl and Kieran.”

Air rushed into Todd’s lungs and remained there. With a mouth open, wanting desperately to say something, he could only shake his head and gaze at the boss.

“Wednesday’s game will be a key moment for you,” Aiden went on. “It may feel daunting to jump into a complete match, but I think you’ll respond well and hit the grass running.”

He gripped Todd’s shoulder firmly, stood up, and returned to his seat.

Todd gazed at the back of the seat in front of him. He was going to be a full match player. He was going to run out onto the pitch to the sound of countless cheers. His girl, his mother, his mates, they would all be there. The press would be talking about him. His picture would be in the newspapers. He would be on the pitch with Daryl. And Kieran.

“Ok, everyone…” Wayne’s voice boomed from the back of the coach.

Silence fell across all seats as those near the front stood up and turned to face him.

“Today we slaughtered the home team,” Wayne said as he stood in the aisle. “Which is good news in itself. But we also have some other good news.” He leaned forward and gripped Todd by the shoulders, pulling him up. Todd stood in front of him, feeling firm hands pressing his shoulders.

“Our new rookie…” Wayne went on. “Will officially make his mark this Wednesday in the upcoming charity match against our long term rivals - the London City Turds!”

Howls of laughter echoed after Wayne shouted the nickname for Eastend United, who were currently second in the league. And although Wednesday’s match was a friendly, the way the captain spoke said there would be an undercurrent of hostility on the home turf.

“We know our Toddy boy will do us proud,” Wayne continued, gripping his shoulders and pulling him close. “He may still be a whippersnapper, but he’s got feet faster than light, and eyes like an eagle.”

Heads raised, shoulders lifted, and eyes beamed at Todd as a slow chant of his name rang out. Todd couldn’t stop his grin, and as he looked at each face on the bus, he could almost feel himself on that pitch with them. Wayne’s hands grabbed his head, rubbed fiercely. Craig’s were on him too. Soon, all the lads were at the back of the bus, each one giving Todd an affectionate grip.

Everyone but Daryl.

From his seat near the front, Daryl lifted himself slightly and smiled at Todd. Todd smiled back, comfortable in the knowledge that Daryl didn’t need to do or say anything more.

Later, in the hotel room he’d booked for Cherrie and himself, Todd lay awake in the dark with his arms around her. She slept soundly, but he couldn’t. His stomach was somewhere else tonight, not just fluttering like it did when good news came, tonight it had taken off and gone for a glide.

The lads were all doing their own thing – no party at Sean’s mansion. Daryl had gone to visit his parents, Kieran had headed home too. Todd wondered what they would be doing now, if they were asleep or out on the town. He found it hard to imagine Daryl out on the town; it was easier to imagine him at his parents, probably sleeping in his old room.

Kieran? He would be out with his old mates, a few beers and a curry perhaps.

Carefully removing his arm from Cherrie, he edged away from her and lay on his back. Did he still have a choice to make regarding those two? He wasn’t sure. With the boss playing him with them both on Wednesday, that choice could be made for him on the pitch. Whoever he clicked with in play will be the one. Todd knew who he wanted it to be as he closed his eyes and tried to sleep again.

Today is the day, today is the day, today is the day
....

Todd stood in a brand new pair of shining, navy blue football boots, laced up tight, his shins padded over black, woolen socks. Soft, silky, black shorts, with their single, fine red line down the outside, caressed his bare thighs. And what can only be described as golden red cotton clung snuggly to his torso, complete with the number 20 in large yellow stitching beneath the name “Mackerson”.

It didn’t register with him that he was about to venture out onto the most famous pitch in English football for the first time. With his teammates around him, it felt as if he’d done this time and time before, and that tonight was just another one of those times.

He didn’t know where this reassured state had come from, but it felt right. And with the lads geared up, waiting to vacate the club’s locker room and march out to the fans, he knew this was where he was meant to be. The faces of Daryl, Kieran, Wayne, Craig, and all the lads from the house, showed confidence as they waited. And Todd had received firm, assuring hugs from each of them, letting him know he belonged with them, and always would.

The boss stood in the center of the room, looking over them.

“Tonight will not be fun,” he said with eyes that demanded to be seen. “I know it’s a charity match, but at this club we only play serious. So I want you to forget about the friendly game and go for it as if you’re playing for three more points on the table.”

Seeing the team nod, as if they’d heard those words before, Todd copied the expression and gave the boss his most certain of stares. He didn’t need to be told. The man could count on him.

After a few more words to them all, Aiden approached him.

“I know Wayne’s had a word with you about the press,” he said. “But I want to say something.”

Todd stood to attention, every nerve in his body firing. Wayne had told him earlier about how the lads, no matter how new they were, had to face the cameras with a sure and solid expression, as if they were long standing members of the club.

“The press will be respectful if we win,” the boss said. “If we lose, which we are not going to do, they like to probe a bit more. If they stop you for questions, which they will try to do because you’re a new face, I want you to be polite, don’t smile too much, answer quickly and confidently, nod sincerely and walk away.”

“Yes, boss.”

“But I advise you to avoid them at the end of play,” he went on. “We deal with press releases in a more controlled manner at this club.”

“Ok, boss.”

Aiden patted him on the back.

“Go on and give it your best, but above all, enjoy the experience. And remember to always look out for your teammates on the pitch.”

Todd would have no trouble with that. He was on the inner right with Kieran to his left and Daryl alongside him on the outside. In front he had Wayne and Craig, the two center forwards for the match. With Gavin on the far left, and Trent, Marco, Luke, and Brad in defense, Jake sat alone on the bench.

He lined up with the lads and they marched out of the locker room and down the corridor to the steadily growing cheers.

Turning the last corner and heading up the steps, Todd’s heart galloped ahead. He imagined the rows of geared up faces, waiting for their team to step onto the pitch. He imagined the photographers around the edges aiming their cameras and focusing their lenses.

As the teams entered the screaming chaos of the stadium, the smell of clean grass filled Todd’s nose. He looked up and saw countless faces and red shirts. The screams turned to roars. For a moment it popped his ears and he felt he was walking down a transparent tube as he went out onto the field. Flashes of light broke out from every direction. The heat from the floodlights beamed down from each corner.

He felt proud; proud to be wearing this red top and silky black shorts, proud to be alongside this team of men he’d spent every waking moment with for the last four weeks. And as they lined up in the center of the pitch, and he gazed ahead into the crowd, he suddenly realized he’d reached that moment he’d dreamed of ever since his father first took him to stand in a similar crowd as a seven year old.

Today is the day…dad
.

Tears welled at the corner of his eye, but he smiled them away, and thought of nothing other than his love for this game and the solid bond he felt with his teammates.

As they took positions and the referee performed the toss up, the crowd hushed and the flashes became fewer.

The whistle blew.

Todd’s heart settled into a steady flow as the ball was played. His legs were alive and his feet ached for a touch on that ball. Wayne had it first, and passed it to Craig, who played it forward. As Kieran rushed to the centerline, Todd did too, and the crowd went wild.

It was back to Wayne now, and Kieran was on his right, Todd sprinted ahead, dodging the green shirts of Eastend United as the opposing players tried to mark him. Then Kieran had it, and after a tight lock between two challengers, Todd saw his eyes lift up to him. Todd’s legs pushed forward, freeing him from cover. Kieran chipped the ball up and it came down to his feet. It was his!

He went for it.

Straight into the penalty box, chased by three green shirts, he faced a mass of legs as the defense tried to block his path. To his right he saw Daryl and made a clear pass. From Daryl it went to Wayne, from Wayne to Craig. Craig lobbed it into the box and Todd was there. Hurling himself up into the air he caught it with his head and slammed it against the cross bar.

The crowd, who had been fired up, groaned in disappointment, but Todd heard those clapping hands and felt approval coming down the terraces at him.

As he sprinted back to position, Kieran clasped his shoulder.

“Nice header!”

Todd thanked him with a friendly pat on the back.

What a way to start. He couldn’t believe within the first minute he’d taken a shot. His heart was on fire now.

Play resumed after the goal kick, and it was up to the home end to defend. Trent and Gavin tackled the ball away from a fierce looking green shirt with the name McCollen on his back. A long kick to Wayne at the centerline triggered another mad scramble up to the away goal as Wayne and Craig went on the attack. Heavy defense put up a good fight.

By half time it was goalless. Wayne had made two shots on target and Craig hit the goalpost once. Daryl had sent one wide after Todd passed him a long cross.

Having kept up his pace, Todd felt more alive now than at any point in the last few weeks, he didn’t even want the half time break, but the whistle blew and cheers rang around the stadium.

As they marched off the pitch, Todd breathed steadily through a dry mouth.

“We’ve got them off guard,” the boss said as they sat in the dressing room sipping isotonics and resting their legs. “They didn’t count on our reserves being ready.” He glanced at Todd and winked. “Let’s keep up the pressure. Don’t let them beyond that centerline. You’ve had seventy percent possession. The crowds and the press will be expecting a goal soon.”

Hugs, grips, and kisses to cheeks followed before they marched back out.

Todd’s adrenaline burned through his legs as he heard a higher pitch in the cheers and shouts from the stadium. Even the lights above seemed brighter and sharper.

The boss had swapped Daryl to his left now, and Kieran was on the outside. Daryl winked at Todd just before the whistle blew.

This time, the away team played cautiously. Taking possession from kick off, they kept the ball back, passing it slowly between the defense and midfield. It was a poor tactic, and one that showed weakness in attack. But Todd was wary, and kept an eye on each of those green shirts, spotting the flow of the legs and the gradual push towards the centerline.

He looked to Wayne and Craig, who hung back just over the line, and decided to stay behind them with Daryl, ready to make the run at their signal. But Todd found it hard to keep back, and slowly but surely, he inched his way forward as the green shirts progressed.

The crowd booed at the slow pace of the game. But the away team continued to keep things simple in their approach.

On the far side, Gavin moved up, aiming straight for a tackle. This sudden attack rattled the green shirt in his path and the ball was lobbed across to the man Todd marked.

Legs in motion, the crowd roared, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Daryl running alongside. Todd threw himself up and slammed his head against the ball as it came in, aiming it straight at Daryl’s waiting feet.

The crowd exploded as Daryl zipped through those green shirts. Todd hurled himself down the outside, avoiding cover without taking his eyes off the ball that Daryl tapped in and out of the defenders legs.

Wayne, Craig, and Gavin were on the far side of the box. Todd kept back to the corner and Kieran arrived just in time to receive from Daryl. He had it a second before passing it to Todd. Two green shirts came at him, but before they had chance to challenge, he kicked it over the box towards Craig.

Wayne had it, then Daryl. In a blur of panic, green shirts seemed to be all around him. Todd legged it to the box, his eyes on Daryl. Daryl twisted and weaved through the attack and in one microsecond the ball was flying. Todd’s heart went to his throat. The crowd exploded as the ball slammed the back of the net.

A surge lifted Todd inside. Without him realizing it, his legs had taken him to where Daryl stood with his head gazing up at the crowds. In a second he was on him, hands clasped to his shoulder, lips pressed to his cheek.

Kieran’s arms were on him, then Wayne’s, and Craig’s, Gavin’s, Trent’s, Brad’s…every arm and leg bundled together, lips and hands covered sweaty faces. Pressure in Todd’s head felt like he might explode. The roaring crowd added to the surge.

As the team broke up, he gripped Daryl around the head and kissed him hard. Then it was back to their end to take positions. Nothing could stop the pure feeling that ran through his nerves. As flashing cameras sparkled the crowds, he had the unmistakable hunch this game was theirs.

With the ball in play again, he was on the move. Craig had it, then Wayne. He chipped it over to Daryl, who took off with it again, heading straight to goal.

In seconds Todd was level with Daryl. Daryl glanced at him before passing.

Todd wasted no time. With Kieran a few feet back he knocked to him and headed into the box. Kieran passed back to Daryl. Clocking Todd, Daryl sent it straight to his feet. Todd spun with it, and after a few twists through legs that seemed to surround him, he was free and on target.

His brain clicked like some great internal machine had triggered, sending signals down his legs. Through the roaring crowd he heard Daryl’s shouts.

“Take it Todd. Take the fucking shot.”

He wasn’t even aware of that moment when his foot slammed into the ball. He didn’t remember seeing it fly up and over the head of the defender in front of him. All he knew was that the crowd was alive with hands in the air, their screams flowing down the terraces in a thundering wave.

His neck wasn’t his own anymore. Neither was his head. Hands gripped. Lips smacked into his cheeks. His eyes were streaming.

Did he score? He must have. His team were all around him, hands layered on his shoulders and head. He couldn’t see anything but red material. He couldn’t feel anything but warm flesh against his bare legs.

The mega voice from above, like an android on high, blared around the stadium.

“Todd Mackerson makes it two - nil to the Reds!”

The crowd chanted.

The team broke up and he was alone outside the penalty box with Daryl clutching his head, pressing it to his.

“You did it baby!” he said through gritted teeth.

Todd couldn’t believe it. He turned back to see the goalkeeper frowning hard, the ball clutched under his arm. Looking back to Daryl, Todd saw his eyes beaming brighter than usual. “I fucking did, didn’t I?” he asked as though needing confirmation.

Daryl grabbed his head, brought it back to him and kissed his cheek again.

“Come on, lad.” He smiled and nodded down the field.

Todd sprinted back to their half, his brain on fire and his legs flowing with new energy. With every breath his lungs could take, he felt lifted higher, like he was on air now, hearing the crowd chant his name repeatedly.

“Mack-er-son, Mack-er-son….”

He made it back to position and took several deep breaths and waited for the downcast goalie to kick the ball into play.

When he did, it went low and easy, straight to the opposing defense.

More slow play followed as the away team made a gradual build up again. Todd looked to Wayne and Craig, expecting them to move forward in attack. But they stayed behind the centerline and kept their eyes on the ball as it was passed from green shirt to green shirt.

Looking across the field at Gavin, he saw him holding back too. Todd figured it was time to defend their lead.

As the ball made it closer and closer to the centerline, his heart upped its beats and his legs fired into life. He had to be ready for a sudden attack, which he could feel coming. Those green shirts were up to something, and if he were in their position, with nothing to lose, he’d be raring to start the onslaught.