Page 64 of Playing the Field
The Oakhampton players are not about to let them stay downhearted though. After a quick celebration in front of their fans– no doubt kept short because it’s a difficult win to celebrate in the circumstances– they turn back to our players, raise their hands above their heads and applaud them good-naturedly.
It warms my heart watching our lads’ heads lift. They poured their hearts and souls into the match today and it’s generous of Oakhampton to acknowledge it. Meanwhile, a chant starts up in the stands– one voice at first, then twenty, fifty... until all four thousand former Hamcott fans are singing at the tops of their voices. ‘We’re Crawford till we die, we’re Crawford till we die...’
This time I can’t stop the tears rolling down my cheeks. And when I glance at Dad his cheeks are wet too, though I know he won’t want to admit it. We might not be going home victorious, but the support we’ve had for our players is astounding. Our boys really showed up today. And sooner or later their hard work is going to pay off. I just know it.
35
Luckily, news of the crowd numbers reaches The Fox before we descend upon it. It turns out it was Olly who Dad was messaging in the half-time break, to warn him he might be about to get very, very busy. And in the time it takes for our players to warm down, the ground to empty and for a large number of us to make our way over there, Olly pulls off something of a miracle.
He loads up a couple of tables in the pub garden with canned and bottled beers for anyone who doesn’t want to queue inside for a pint on draught, and ropes in some of his regular customers to man the tables and collect the money, telling us they spent almost an hour bringing up stock from the cellar with him. He even gets all the cars cleared out of the car park so it can be used for overspill.
Even then it’s a battle to get the drinks served fast enough, but they make it work. And Olly has also batch-cooked every sausage roll he had in his freezer, handing them out free of charge to anyone who’s peckish.
Our players manage to put their disappointment to the side as they mingle with the supporters. Dad and Cassie have done a good job of convincing them they played well enough today and that they’ll only get better– and that the number of fans who came to watch them should give them a clear indication of the belief people have in the team.
One of my proudest moments of the post-match get-together is when the Oakhampton players arrive– on Dad’s invitation– and are warmly welcomed by everybody. They might have beaten us, but they have our fans’ respect thanks to their magnanimity. Dad has said from the beginning that his hope is for both our fans and our players to be courteous to the opposition teams, so I know this will make him happy.
In the locker room before today’s match, he said to our players, ‘I’m aware that you’re not getting paid to play at Crawford, so I’m doubly grateful to you all for being here. But I also know that because of this, some of you may move to different clubs in the future, where there is a salary, so my best advice to you is this: stay on everyone’s good side today, even if the game goes against you, because those players you’re coming up against now, one day you might end up on the same team.’
It’s good advice for all areas of life, if you ask me.
Inside the pub, Olly bangs an empty glass on the bar and calls for Dad to give a speech. The colour flushes across his cheeks as the noise of conversation recedes and hundreds of eyes turn towards him. Several people take out their phones and start recording.
‘Go on, Mike,’ Marge urges. Dad holds up his pint in acknowledgement then begins.
‘Firstly, I just want to say the biggest thank you to everyone here for the overwhelming support you’ve shown Crawford United today– for the atmosphere you created at the match, for the boost you gave our players on the pitch, and of course for your money, which will help secure the future of the club going forward, hopefully for many years.’
This gets a laugh from the crowd.
‘When Lily, Cassie and I sat down in our kitchen just three short months ago and cooked up this idea to create a new football team, some of you thought we were mad, some of you thought we had no idea what we were doing– and I’ll happily admit, you were all absolutely right. But we never stopped believing a new football club was what Hamcott needs, and when I look around at all of you here with us now, it doesn’t just validate that belief, it smashes it right out of the park.’
He waits for the whooping to subside before he continues.
‘Oakhampton played a really strong game today, so congratulations to them once again. But our players showed heart and determination and promise, so I want to say thank you to each and every person who plays their part in our team. We know we’ve still got a lot to learn and we’re at the very start of our journey, but it’s our mission to improve week on week and to give everyone here a real reason to call yourself a proud Crawford fan.
‘You know we can’t promise you a win every Saturday, but what we can promise is that we’ll never give up trying. So stick with us and let’s enjoy this ride together.’ He raises his glass again. ‘To everyone here and to Crawford United!’
When the cheering has subsided and the hum of conversation has resumed, Dad makes his way back to where Cassie, Ben and I are standing, shaking hands with everyone he passes on the way like the mini celebrity he’s fast becoming. I squeeze his arm. ‘Proud of you, Dad.’
He clinks his glass against mine. ‘Back at ya, kid.’
And I’m suddenly happier than ever about the part I’ve played in making this happen– and will continue to play, too. Whatever the outcome at the end of the season it will be something to be celebrated, because perhaps even more important than the team itself is the bond we’re creating among this newly connected group of people.
The players, bar Jacob who’s too young, have all been told their beers are on the house by Olly. While Crawford’s rules ask them to refrain from drinking alcohol on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays– namely the days before any training or matches– there are no such restrictions on a Saturday night. I’d be willing to bet they lose count of the number of supporters who also offer to buy them drinks.
I notice Thomas, especially, really engaging with the fans, asking about their own sporting endeavours and who their favourite footballer of all time is. Happily, at least two of the younger ones say him.
In another corner Phoebs is chatting to Craig and he’s laughing at whatever she just said. I notice his eyes don’t drift once– he’s completely engaged. Maybe her reverse psychology really is working.
I think everyone stays at the pub longer than they intend to, so I imagine there’ll be a few sore heads in the morning, mine included. Not that I’ve got anything pressing to get up for now my exams are behind me. Ben and I might head to the beach once he’s finished his workout and I’ve had a Crawford handover chat with Marge. After the stress of the last two days, I could do with some time to relax.
I’m glad the team have such a lively evening for their first post-match get-together, though. Regardless of the result, it has felt like a celebration thanks to the incredible turnout and the air of optimism our newfound supporters seem to share. If this is a sign of things to come, we’re in for a memorable season. There may be a long and possibly rocky road ahead of us, but today all that matters is that we’re on our way.
36
‘It was a great night but I’m never drinking that much after a match again,’ I hear Levi telling Elliot as they change into their football boots at the academy the following Tuesday. ‘I woke up with breath like a cat’s arse.’
‘That’s disgusting,’ Elliot says. ‘What were you drinking?’
