Page 1 of Playing the Field
Prologue
Strike out!
Millford City striker Ben Pryce’s footballing future is hanging in the balance following an altercation with a fan earlier today.
The 22-year-old, who was on target to be the top goal scorer in the Premier League after his hat trick against Barcombe last Saturday, was sent off the pitch sixteen minutes before the end of City’s clash against Hamcott Park after a heated exchange with one of the away team’s supporters.
It’s not yet known what sparked the incident, but the Hamcott fan is thought to have made derogatory comments as Pryce lined up the corner kick that could have propelled Millford City to yet another victory. Pryce was immediately shown the red card and left the pitch to boos from the visitors’ stand.
Although there has been no further comment from the Millford camp, a source tells us Pryce is now facing a six-match suspension and a hefty fine for poor conduct. This means he will miss Millford City’s three remaining matches, giving rival strikers Harry Fuller and Frank Headingly, from Walthorp Town and East Hedgely respectively, the chance to overtake his 26-goal tally.
He will also be forced to sit on the bench for the first three games of the next season, which, after his recent spout of bad behaviour on the pitch, raises big questions about his future at the club he’s played for since he was 19.
‘If they can get decent results without him in these upcoming games, they might start wondering if they can do without him,’ pundit Owen Smith warned on Channel Six’sTop Goals. ‘For a club looking to streamline its spending, they’ve got to be looking at their more expensive players and thinking about who they can afford to lose. And when you have a highly paid player like Ben who isn’t even on the pitch, making that cut might seem like a no-brainer.’
Hamcott Park has been facing its own financial woes, with the current owners close to finalising a deal that will see their home ground sold to property developers and the club relocated to cheaper premises more than 60 miles away. Chairman Karl Steadman has been accused of treating it as a business primarily and only a football club after that, but the Hamcott Park fans’ desperate pleas for a last-minute change of heart have gone unheard.
Pryce has been one of Millford City’s star players since he joined the club three years ago, helping to keep them well away from the relegation zone for three consecutive seasons thanks to his impressive goal tally. But only time will tell whether we see him back in the squad or if his career there has reached its final whistle.
1
‘I know it’s been on the cards for months, but I still can’t believe it’s actually come to this,’ my dad says, his voice heavy with defeat as he sits at our kitchen table, staring at the message on the screen of his mobile phone. I can count the number of times I’ve seen him this despondent on one hand– and right now is one of the worst.
But I know why he’s so downhearted– because I’ve been sent the same message. Thanks to a combination of greed and poor management, our beloved football club has ignored the protests of all its fans and confirmed it will be relocating to a stadium sixty-three miles away. Which means many of the fans who, like him, have loyally supported the club through good times and bad for most of their lives will no longer be able to go to the home matches.
And the fact that this devastating news has come on the back of a humiliating defeat yesterday to a team that didn’t even have all eleven players after their striker was sent off– for assaulting a fan of all things!– makes it an even more bitter pill to swallow.
‘After everything we did,’ Dad sighs.
We attended every consultation, replied to every email designed to make us feel like our voices matter, even stood through a whole match with our backs to the action, wearing T-shirts with ‘Keep Hamcott Park in Hamcott’ on the back, but to no avail. The eleventh-hour U-turn we were all praying for never came. The final confirmation has just been posted on the club website and emailed to fans.
‘I don’t mind doing the drive,’ I tell him, trying to find a way to make things better. ‘I know it will mean not having a beer in the pub beforehand and probably getting stuck in rush hour traffic on the way home, but we can still go. Lots of people can’t. In some ways we’re the lucky ones.’
But we both know it won’t be the same. Not without the shouty bloke two rows in front who thinks he knows more about the offside rule than the referee. Or the old guy in front of him, who shuffles in on walking sticks every Saturday and promptly falls asleep, often only waking up in time to see the last ten minutes of the match. It will mean our club’s fans will make up a smaller proportion of the crowd than the away fans even at our so-called home matches. It will be like every game is an away game.
‘Bob and Marge will no doubt be happy to squeeze into my back seat,’ I say to Dad, still trying to find a silver lining. They’re the couple who’ve sat next to us for the last twenty years, ever since the very first game Dad took me and my sister Cassie to when we were four and six– old enough to properly appreciate it. Thinking about all those happy afternoons at Hamcott Park now, I can’t even begin to imagine the roar of the fans not being a regular fixture in my life.
And there’s another reason why this is such a blow. When I was eleven, my sister thirteen, my mum left my dad, leaving us all heartbroken. At that age it was so hard to understand why she would want to go and live on her own in a tiny village in rural Cornwall and not stay in the hustle and bustle of Hamcott. The truth is, she found Dad’s love of dinner parties and socialising exhausting and desperately craved a more peaceful existence.
Cassie and I could have gone with her, but we chose to stay with Dad. Neither of us wanted to change schools, lose our friends or live in the middle of nowhere. We’d see Mum in the holidays and she promised to call us every day. Dad, meanwhile, put on a brave face and tried to keep our lives as normal as possible, and a big part of that was making sure we still went to see Hamcott Park as a family every Saturday.
It was good for me and Cassie, but I think it was even more important for Dad. Bob and Marge, among others, rallied round to help him bring up his two headstrong teenage daughters. They became like an aunt and uncle to me and Cassie, and having their support meant everything to Dad. Still does, in fact. So I know he’ll be fretting that things won’t be the same any more, even if Cassie and I are grown-ups now.
I look around the spacious rustic kitchen that was the main reason Dad insisted he and Mum bought this house, where I still live with him. How many Saturday afternoons after a home match have an assortment of people found their way back here, knowing Dad will have something tasty ready to heat up and share while the latest game is discussed at length? And then I think of our pre-match hangout, The Fox, where a crowd of Hamcott fans congregate for a pub lunch and a pint every other week. Will it now lose all that business?
Dad frowns at the kitchen cupboards behind me, disappointment rolling off him in waves. I hate seeing the wind sucked out of his sails like this. He’s one of those people who never wants anyone to see him having a down day, but today there’s just no hiding it.
But Dad being Dad, I should have known he wouldn’t let this keep him down for long. We’ve never been a family to just roll over and give up. So just as I’m about to remind him we fought as hard as we could to prevent this from happening, he slaps the table and pushes himself to his feet, his chair scraping back across the mottled tiles. ‘This isn’t the end of this,’ he says, his voice full of determination.
And I nod. ‘There are still two more home matches before the season wraps. We can still make the most of them.’
He turns his gaze to me and says, ‘That’s not what I mean.’ And it’s almost like I can see the fire light up again behind his eyes. ‘Footballers come and go– we all know that,’ he says. ‘We’ve seen countless players move on to other clubs or go out with an injury over the years. But the one thing that has never changed in this club is its heart. So all we really need to do is to let these players go, but keep that heart pumping.’
‘What are you talking about, Dad?’
‘We’ll let them go.’ His eyes are positively sparkling now. ‘And we’ll start a brand new club. One that’s run for the fans, like it used to be. Like it should be.’
It’s my turn to frown. ‘We, as in us? Me and you?’
