Page 3 of Playing the Field
‘I think it’s a nice idea,’ Marge says. I suspect it’s one of hers.
‘Absolutely not,’ Dad says, starting a reject pile then picking up another slip of paper. But he’s even less enamoured of the next proposal. ‘Magic Mike’s Merry Men? Come on, you lot, these are meant to be serious. Who put that in there?’
Adam raises a sheepish hand.
‘It’s very flattering,’ Dad concedes. ‘But I don’t think anyone...’
‘If we drop the Mike part, I think Crawford United has a certain ring to it,’ Bob interrupts. Which gets the rest of us thinking. A quick search on my phone and I confirm it doesn’t already exist elsewhere.
‘I actually don’t mind it,’ Cassie says.
‘It works for me,’ Marge chips in.
Dad rolls his eyes and moves the paper into a maybe pile with a sigh. ‘Okay, fine, but let’s see what else we’ve got before anyone gets too excited.’
It turns out there are three other Mike-related names, but Dad won’t be swayed from adding these ones to the reject pile. I’d be willing to bet he’s a tiny bit embarrassed, even if he appreciates the sentiment.
Hamcott appears in the majority of other suggestions– there’s Hamcott United, Hamcott Rangers, plus a Wanderers, a Warriors and a Hamcott Blues. Dad adds them to the maybe pile, but even though two of them came from me, I didn’t propose either with confidence. Because as nice as this nod to our neighbourhood would be, I wouldn’t want us to ever be confused with our predecessors.
The final two submissions are inspired by our street name– Queens Avenue United– and the name of the local recreation ground, West Street Park FC. Both join the other maybes.
‘Okay, time to vote,’ Dad says, and he starts reading from the top of the pile.
Cassie puts her hand up for West Street Park. As it’s where the player tryouts will be held, she says, it will have some historic meaning. Dad raises his for the Hamcott Blues– until Bob points out that Hamcott Park play in blue, so that could get confusing. It’s not until Dad reads out Crawford United that the rest of us shoot our hands into the air.
‘That’s decided then,’ Marge says triumphantly, leaving Dad momentarily speechless.
‘Are you sure it doesn’t feel too self-indulgent?’ he asks eventually.
‘I think it’s the perfect nod to the founders of the club,’ she says. ‘All three of you.’
Dad turns to Cassie, the only other person who voted for something different, but she smiles and says, ‘It’s already grown on me.’
‘Crawford United,’ Dad says, like he’s trying it out for size. ‘Crawford United...’
‘To Crawford United!’ Bob bellows, holding his glass aloft. ‘Long may it last and successful may it be!’
And finally, Dad laughs and clinks his glass against Bob’s. ‘Okay, okay, you lot win. It looks like we’ve got ourselves a club name.’
‘There’s only one Mikey Crawford,’ Marge sings quietly.
‘Oh, stop it,’ Dad says, turning pink.
Next up, it’s the kit colour, and our proposals range from lime and navy stripes to orange and burgundy. It’s only my proposal of straight purple that throws in a curveball.
‘Just purple?’ Dad says. ‘Whose suggestion was this?’
I raise my hand.
‘Any particular reason?’ he asks.
I shrug. ‘It’s my favourite colour.’
Dad runs his hand over his stubble while he contemplates it. Then he nods and says, ‘I can picture it with white shorts. A kind of Cadbury purple. What do the rest of you think?’
‘I’m on board.’ Cassie is first to respond. ‘It’s nice and a bit different.’
‘I like it too,’ Marge says.
