Steven could see what was happening. The story of him and Udo would run dry soon without some twist. If they circulated a rumour that Javier was involved, it would secure them another front page.
“It’s the hypocrisy that has upset me,” Javier said. “Footballers all over the world sleep around. You lot think they’re heroes. Steven and Udo are in a relationship. There is a difference.”
So much for not talking about my love life.
“It’s damaging for the team. Having wandering eyes,” a journalist piped up.
Javier banged on the gate. “Brockton FC is out of the relegation zone because of one man. Udo Holtmann. I will not have any form of bigotry in my team or outside of it. Udo will be in the starting line up in August no matter what you print.”
“So you definitely won’t be getting rid in the transfer season?”
“Of course not. Don’t be so ridiculous. If a player is happy and settled, they perform better. Everyone knows that. If you left them alone, maybe we’d get there a damned sight sooner.”
Steven froze. He’d never had anyone speak for him like this before. As touching as it might be, he needed it over.
“What’s more,” Javier continued, “if there are any other gay players out there who want to play for a club that will respect and protect who they are, then the transfer window is their best bet. Brockton FC is a safe space. No matter what. Print that.”
The reporters took a collective gasp. Steven’s heart sank. Javier had just handed them a whole summer of reporting. Everymeeting they had with an agent would be a guessing game about who was their gay player.
That was if he and Javier were still working at Brockton FC. He didn’t think Jamie’s support extended to turning the club into a gay sanctuary.
Mercifully, Javier didn’t wait for any more questions.
As he and Steven walked to the safety of Newby Park, Javier sighed.
“I think I got carried away.”
“I think you probably did.”
By the time they made the five-minute walk to the doors of Newby Park and went in, a pale Howard waited for them in the reception area.
“What in the actual fuck did you do?” he screamed.
“Howard. Calm it down,” Javier said, holding his hands up.
“Do I tell you how to get that mob of apes to score goals?” Howard continued, seemingly oblivious to the crowd of staff who had gathered to watch the fireworks. “Well, do I?”
Steven had seen enough drama for one day and it wasn’t even lunchtime.
He couldn’t focus on the sea of people around them. If he saw Udo, he’d lose his composure.
“I think we should take this to Jamie’s office,” Steven said.
Howard swallowed hard.
“No. He’s trying to speak to South Tel. Remember them? Our sponsors.”
Steven shifted uncomfortably.
“What are we supposed to do then?” Javier asked.
“Go to your office,” Howard replied. “Jamie will call you when he wants to speak to you.”
Javier and Steven obeyed. Once in the relative safety of the small room, Javier threw himself down on the couch and groaned.
“Why did I let my mouth take control like that?” he wailed.
“You got riled up,” Steven replied. “For what it’s worth, thank you.”
