Page 19 of Playing the Field
And despite my scepticism about him, we fall into a surprisingly easy conversation about Crawford United and how much he admires what we’re doing and how happy he is that Bailey has finally got a break.
‘He’s such a good footballer; he just never pushed himself as hard as I did. He used to worry he wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure of always needing to win. But now he’s watched me having some shockers and seen that I’ve survived it, he’s more comfortable with the idea of just rolling with the breaks. Although of course it’s always much better when you win.’
He asks how I got into football– Dad’s doing, of course– and reveals why he did. ‘It was that or learning guitar to impress the girls. And I’m shit at guitar,’ he admits.
It’s while I’m laughing at this that I realise I’m actually enjoying his company and struggling to reconcile the person I’m sitting opposite with the one who’s essentially on suspension for an act of aggression. I know this is a very different environment to the noise and adrenaline of a football pitch, but he seems so laid-back. It’s hard to imagine him getting angry about anything.
He surprises me again when I ask him what he does when he’s not playing football. I thought he might say something like playing golf or video games, but he tells me he’s just finished a degree in computer science.
Noticing the rise in my eyebrows, he asks, ‘Did you have me down as a high school dropout?’
‘Not at all. It just seems like a lot to take on alongside a football career. Although I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if you’d told me you were expelled for flirting with the teachers.’
He laughs. ‘I did have to do my degree remotely. I couldn’t have all the professors swooning in my lectures. You know what it’s like.’
I’m not sure if he means literally. If he does, it’s a very nice compliment.
‘I got a two-one,’ he adds. ‘Not just a pretty face. But in all seriousness, I worked hard for it. I know the football isn’t going to last forever and I didn’t want to get to the end of it without a plan B.’
‘Oh God.’ I clap my hand up to my face.
‘What?’ He sounds alarmed.
‘After all the things they’ve said about you in the papers, I didn’t realise your deepest, darkest secret would be that you’resensible.’
He cracks up at this. ‘It’s not something I’ve ever been accused of. But I’m not the loose cannon they’ve made me out to be either. They create their own reality when they don’t know all the facts, so you can’t believe everything you read.’
‘That must be hard.’ I certainly hope it never happens to anyone at Crawford.
‘The people who count know I’m not a bad person. I fucked up for sure, but I had my reasons. It certainly won’t happen again. I’m just going to have to ask you to trust me on that.’
There’s a pause then, while I contemplate it, until I realise I’m probably looking at him a little too intensely. He really does have a very nice face and I need to stop staring at it. He doesn’t seem fazed, though– I imagine he’s used to it.
‘So do you want to stay for one more?’ he asks, nodding his head towards my nearly empty glass.
And I find that I do. He’s such easy company I could chat to him for hours. But I haven’t completely forgotten that I came here specifically to talk about Crawford United, so I request just a half this time and tell him it’s so I can remember all the good advice he’s about to pass on to me.
‘Now who’s the sensible one?’ he says with a grin.
But I flip this back at him when he orders himself a sparkling water, even if it is because he’s driving. He tells me he doesn’t usually drink at all during football season– it’s only during the summer break that he occasionally indulges.
We end up staying till closing time, the minutes slipping away as we talk about match strategy, team bonding and training regimes. By the time the final bell rings and Ben excuses himself to brave the bathroom before we leave, I’ve come round to thinking that he could indeed be quite handy to have at Crawford’s training sessions.
The landlady comes over to collect our empties and tells me, with a conspiratorial wink, that she’s never known Ben to bring a girl here before. This takes me by surprise, but I don’t really know what to make of it. Should I feel privileged that he’s shown me a bit of what I suspect might the real him away from the glare of the Premier League? Insulted that he didn’t think I was worthy of a swankier venue? Or should I not be reading anything into it? There may have been some flirty banter throughout the evening, but I think that’s just the way Ben is.
If tonight was about persuading me there’s more to him than the temperamental attention-seeker he’s been described as in the press recently, then he’s done a good job of it. But my main takeaway is what I think he could bring to Crawford United– if Dad and Cassie will let him.
12
‘No way,’ my sister says emphatically when I bring up Ben’s offer of help at the kitchen table meeting the following evening. ‘I’m perfectly capable of knocking those boys into shape myself. I don’t need some hot-headed yob muscling in and trying to prove he’s better at it than me. Guys like Ben Pryce always feel like they know everything.’
‘It’s not like that at all,’ I assure her. ‘I had a good chat with him and he isn’t out to tread on anyone’s toes. You know I wouldn’t even be suggesting this if I thought he was. He’s just willing to share his knowledge and I think we’d be crazy not to even entertain the idea. It’s not like opportunities like this will come knocking every day.’
‘You do have to wonder what’s in it for him,’ Bob says.
‘Absolutely nothing, apart from maybe getting to spend a bit more time than usual with his brother. He just wants to help, he believes in what we’re doing, and as he’s got three years’ experience of Premier League football, I really think we should take advantage of it.’
‘Help by imparting his bad habits on our players?’ Cassie hasn’t stopped scowling. ‘He’s slated onTop Goalsevery other week for some kind of blow-up on the pitch. And let’s not even get started on his off-pitch activities.’
