ONE
STEVEN
Brockton FC’s assistant manager Steven Cox sat in the dugout with his boss and manager, Javier Tosar. He glanced up at the stands. A sea of mint and white football shirts. The colours of his team. All eyes on the pitch. Steven rubbed his sweaty palms on his tracksuit bottoms.
“Millions of pounds’ worth of footballers out there and they’re bloody coasting,” Steven muttered.
“What happened to all the passes we practiced?” Javier grumbled. “No one’s keeping possession of the fucking ball.”
Javier leapt to his feet. His face a worrying shade of red. Steven half expected fire to blaze out of his nostrils and char the grass.
“Adam, get up the pitch!” Javier screamed. “Colin, back him up!”
Steven got up. “God I wish I were out there,” he said.
Javier slumped down on the chair next to him. “So do I. What the hell is wrong with them?”
It was mid-April and mercifully no rain after a severe winter. The away match against the seaside resort of Brighton shouldhave been an easy win. Unfortunately, their opponents were one goal in the lead.
Brockton FC forward Shaun Riggs raced up the left wing with the ball. Steven tracked him like a hawk. The crowd roared. Could this be the moment?
Shaun passed the ball beautifully. Both Steven and Javier jumped up.
“This is more like it,” Javier shouted.
“Come on, Jerzy,” Steven hollered. “Give him some support, the rest of you.”
Three Brighton defenders were on Jerzy in an instant, but he stayed ahead of them. Over by the goal, new signing Udo Holtmann was totally unguarded. With expert precision, Jerzy struck the ball hard. It flew over the defenders’ heads and hit the ground in front of Udo.
“Beautiful,” Javier shouted.
For a second it appeared as if everything had come together. The Brighton players raced to shut down Udo. Steven held his breath. The sun made Udo’s golden hair shine. His handsome face in total concentration as he lined his shot up.
“He’s taking too long,” Steven said under his breath.
In no time, the Brighton defenders swarmed all over him. Udo sliced the ball, but it went massively wide. Steven grabbed his head.
“Fuck!”
The Brockton fans booed at Udo mercilessly.
“What the hell was that?” Javier cried out. “How long does he need to think about it?”
Shaun shouted something at Udo right in his face. Poor Udo couldn’t meet his teammate’s eye.
The Brockton FC captain, Adam Williams, ran over and broke it up.
“Now we’re going to have players scrapping on the pitch,” Javier grumbled. “The media will love that.”
Steven had no words. They still had time to rescue this match.Brockton were dangling over the relegation zone which meant demotion to the Championship. If they were going to stay in the Premier League, they had to turn this around.
Twenty-five minutes later the referee blew the whistle to end the game. Thankfully, Jerzy Brylska, another new signing, had scored, giving them a draw with Brighton.
Steven and Javier followed the dejected team into the building. As usual, a gang of reporters were waiting for a debrief.
“Adam,” Javier called. “You can speak to them.”
It was a smart move. Adam never courted controversy or said anything stupid. He’d always been popular with the female fans. Strong jawline, stubble and wide smile. What wasn’t to love?
