Page 22 of Play Hard

Fergus was at his side in an instant. “You okay? What happened?”

“Fine.” Robert drew in more precious oxygen. “He just...outran me.”

He and Fergus moved back up the pitch to prepare for kickoff. Liam jogged over to Robert and asked in a low voice, “It’s not the knickers, is it? I’ll never forgive myself for hurting your game.”

“Not that,” Robert said with a laugh. He’d forgotten all about the undergarments.

“Thank God. Stay strong!” He patted Robert’s back, then moved off into position.

Robert hadn’t lied: The knickers weren’t the problem. He was simply out of shape. He should’ve known that skipping the treadmill week after week would eventually affect his stamina and speed.

Tomorrow, for sure, he’d get back to his gym routine—cardio, weights, yoga—no matter how busy he was with the Glasgow Effect app.

No, tomorrow was recovery day from this match. And Monday he had that meeting with the funders. And then Tuesday was football practice. Then Wednesday was recovery from practice.

Thursday, then. Definitely Thursday.

Probably.

* * *

Liam hadno time to worry about Robert’s performance, as there were plenty of demands on his own. With Mitchell’s goal coming so late in the game, the Warriors needed to score, pronto.

Which meant Liam was being sent forward.

As he charged up the left touchline with the ball, he felt like he was encroaching upon alien territory. Overcoming his center-back’s instinct to tack toward the middle was liberating but also a wee bit terrifying.

He heard a thunder of feet, then a Barrowfield winger cut him off near the halfway line, trying to drive him inside. Liam faked him out with a nimble flip-flap, nudging the ball to his right with the outside of his foot then whipping it back the other way with his instep.

Oh my God, how’d I do that?he thought for a millisecond before continuing forward, leaving his opponent behind. A roar of approval rose from the Rainbow Regiment, who were now on his side of the pitch in the second half.

Ten yards later, he was met by a Barrowfield fullback, who managed to trap him against the line. With nowhere to go, Liam kicked the ball against the fullback’s legs so it would bounce out of play for a Warriors throw-in.

He stood there for a moment—long enough to look like an eejit—before remembering throw-ins were now his job.

Liam hurried to pick up the football, then carried it back to the touchline, wiping it with his shirt to dry it (so much for not getting muddy). He surveyed his teammates, deciding which to throw it to, knowing he had but a few seconds to choose.

“There’s only one Liam Carroll…” the Rainbow Regiment were now singing to the tune of “Winter Wonderland.” “He’s got you over a barrel…”

He drew his arms back over his head, then heaved the ball at Warriors midfielder Evan, but it fell short and was promptly intercepted by a Barrowfield defender, who passed it up to the winger for another attack.

Well, that was crap.Liam raced back down the line, relieved to see Craig was slowing the winger’s progress and averting imminent disaster.

The Regiment kept singing for him, a new version of an old chant. “He used to stay back, now watch him attack. You’re wanking in a winter wonderland.”

As the second half neared the end, Liam used his nearby teammates as a guide to positioning himself: Okay, Craig’s shifting to the other side, so I’d better stay back or risk a gap in defense. Now where the fuck is Colin? Liam was so far out of his comfort zone, he couldn’t have glimpsed it through a telescope.

The clock reached ninety minutes, with only two minutes of stoppage time added. Liam felt a defiance rise within him.

We’ve already lost Katie. We arenot losing this match.

Rather than keep possession and kill time, Barrowfield foolishly made a long pass toward the Warriors goal, where it sailed out of play. The Warriors had one final chance.

Heather hurried to retrieve the ball for a goal kick. She set it on the edge of the six-yard box, then waved at Liam to move forward.

He started running.

“Heather Wek, she’s hard as feck,” the Regiment chanted. “She’ll break your neck like a ragin’ Shrek!”

---