Page 7 of Playing the Field
‘Then thank you, that sounds amazing. And in the meantime, thank you all for agreeing to chat to me. Do you mind if I record our conversation? Just so I don’t forget anything.’
‘Not at all,’ Dad says, and soon we’re filling Helen in on what we’ve achieved so far and what we’re hoping to achieve on the long road ahead.
Helen, it turns out, is a big fan of an underdog story and is already rooting for us to succeed. Not only does she want to run this initial piece, she says she’d like to do some follow-ups and asks if we’d be happy for her to come along to watch the player trials too.
‘Absolutely,’ Cassie says. ‘I mean, they’re just in the park so we can’t actually stop you, but it would be a pleasure to have you there. There might be one or two fans watching from the sidelines too.’
Barbour has already told Dad he’d like to be there.
‘Perfect. Then hopefully I can collect some good quotes,’ Helen says with a smile. ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of Alasdair Frowley for a comment too– the author, do you know him?’
‘Do we?’ I roll my eyes. ‘Dad is probably keeping him in business. He’s bought every single book. He loves a good crime thriller. He even queued up outside our local bookshop when the last one came out.’
‘Did you know Frowley was a long-time Hamcott Park fan?’ Helen asks. ‘When I was doing my research I stumbled across a tweet he wrote a few weeks back about how the managers are ripping the soul out of the community he used to live in by relocating the club. I think it would make a really nice piece to hear his thoughts on the emergence of Crawford United.’
‘I had no idea,’ Dad exclaims. ‘Not that I ever look at social media, but his books are all set in LA.’
‘That’s where he lives now,’ Helen explains. ‘But he was in Hamcott as a teenager and apparently never stopped following Hamcott Park. His agent told me he’s shut away on some kind of writing retreat at the moment so he’s incommunicado, but I can let you know if I ever get hold of him.’
‘Yes please.’ Dad nods enthusiastically. ‘I think I like him even more now. Maybe I’ll even get to meet him one day.’
I don’t point out that our budget is unlikely to stretch to a trip to Los Angeles.
Helen wraps up our chat just before the air fryer pings, telling us she thinks our story will make a charming read. Tucking her notepad and phone away, she thanks us for making her life so easy and promises anything we say over dinner will be off the record, but we pretty much stay on the topic of football anyway. She’s an East Hedgely fan, having been introduced to them by her high-school boyfriend, but admits she mostly only has time to catch their highlights onTop Goalssince joining theHerald.
‘Not that I’m complaining,’ she adds. ‘I love my job.’
Graciously turning down Dad’s offer of raspberry crumble and ice cream for dessert, she thanks us for being such great hosts, but explains that she wants to get her piece transcribed so she can get it uploaded first thing. After we’ve waved her off and are back at the table with loaded pudding bowls in front of us, we all agree that it went as smoothly as a first brush with the media possibly could have.
‘Shall we round off the night with an episode ofDying Days?’ Dad suggests.
It’s the TV series based on Alasdair Frowley’s books, about a tough female homicide detective trying to make her mark in a male-dominated police department in downtown LA. It started a few weeks ago so I don’t know why we haven’t watched it before, given Dad’s such a Frowley fan, but he’s always been more of a book reader than a TV watcher.
It’s Mum who loves a good crime drama on telly, so inevitably my thoughts drift to her as Cassie and I make ourselves comfortable on either side of Dad on the sofa. It’s hard not to miss her when it feels like this would have been her perfect end to an evening.
I make a mental note to ask her if she’s been watching the show next time we chat on Zoom. Given how much she’s rooting for me and Cassie to prove our capabilities at Crawford United, I think she’ll like the way the actress, Angela Paramore, captures the detective’s determination.
Dad, Cassie and I congregate at the kitchen table yet again the following evening, with Bob and Marge back this time, and the first topic of conversation is Helen’s article. It talks of fighting back against the big guns and is full of hope, admiration and community spirit, and Marge declares that it feels like a virtual cuddle.
‘We just need to see if it has any impact now,’ Dad says.
‘I don’t think you need to worry about that,’ I reassure him. ‘Traffic to our website has more than doubled today, and a couple more donations have trickled in. We’re a long way off our target but they’re all steps in the right direction.’
And yet another piece of the puzzle has fallen into place off the back of Helen’s feature– we’ve finally found a training ground! Most of the local schools and sports centres Marge contacted were too concerned about their grass getting churned up to agree to let our team practise there.
‘But today Upper Hamcott Academy called me back with a change of heart and I don’t think that’s a coincidence,’ Marge says. ‘They’ve decided the presence of our players might inspire their already sporty students to push themselves even harder and have offered us ninety minutes of pitch time on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.’
‘Lock that down,’ Dad advises, reaching across the table to high-five her. ‘That’s a massive win.’
‘So we’ve now got a kit, a coach, a name, a fan pub, a website, a training ground and a friendly face in the press,’ I summarise– and all this has happened in a little under two weeks. ‘I know we’ve still got a lot of money to find, but I think we can allow ourselves a little pat on the back.’
‘Yeah, at this rate we’ll have our team in the Premier League by 2025,’ Bob says.
‘Steady on, Bob.’ Dad laughs. ‘We’ve got bit more work to do before that happens.’
But I think all three of us are starting to feel like we’re on a roll and that nothing can stop us now.
5
