Page 85 of Playing the Field
‘Get in!’ Thomas punches the air.
‘You can give up your paper round now, Jacob,’ Craig teases.
‘There’s more,’ Dad calls out, commanding their attention one last time. ‘Frowley is coming here to watch the game today, so you’ll have the opportunity to meet him. And he’s bringing a special guest with him.’ When he reveals it’s Angela Paramore, it sparks a round of wolf whistles.
‘So I want us to really bring our Agame this afternoon. Let’s show them what we’re made of. Iknowwe can do better than we have done so far. Now it’s time for us to get out there and prove it.’
‘We’ve got this,’ Thomas says, his voice full of confidence.
And an equally fired-up Craig adds, ‘We’re ready for it.’
But there’s still no sign of Alasdair and Angela when it’s time for the team to start warming up on the pitch, leaving me fearful they’ve changed their minds about coming and that our players might lose their earlier momentum.
When they eventually arrive mere minutes before the starting whistle, flanked by our last-minute security guards, I’m almost too relieved to speak. They make their way to the seats alongside me and Dad, and Frowley is immediately full of apologies. ‘We had such good intentions, but it’s not always easy getting through a crowd with Angela.’
Which is no great surprise given how striking she looks in her purple jumpsuit, with her black hair cascading down her back.
‘It only takes one person to ask for an autograph and it starts an avalanche,’ Frowley explains. ‘But your chaps were very efficient at whisking us through once it started looking like we were in danger of missing the kick-off.’
‘Or liketheywere,’ Dad corrects, making Frowley chuckle.
Dad holds his hand out. ‘Mike Crawford.’
‘A pleasure,’ Frowley says, then reaches across to shake hands with me, before insisting we call him by his first name.
‘And Angela,’ the actress says. And I notice she’s even done her nails purple as she puts her perfectly manicured hand in Dad’s then mine. ‘I’m so excited to be here. I even learned the offside rule on the flight over to make sure I don’t say anything stupid.’
‘Eleven hours well spent,’ Dad says with a supersized grin.
I’m slightly in awe of the effort she’s made when I’m just in a Crawford sweater and jeans, but I stop feeling self-consciousness as soon as she’s on her feet shouting encouragement as loudly as the rest of us when Craig and Jamie make it into the penalty box an unprecedented three times in the first twenty minutes. Suddenly we’re just two people who want the same thing.
But it’s agonising for our strikers. The Ashbridge goalie is probably the best in the league and pulls off a series of frustratingly brilliant saves. Then we have to brace ourselves for their counter-attacks and they push themselves back up the pitch with annoyingly impressive speed. But credit where credit’s due– Elliot plays the game of his life. Without him we could easily be five–nil down by half-time.
My adrenaline is pumping as we clap the players off the pitch. If I was someone who bit my fingernails I think they’d be down to the cuticles after the last forty-five minutes. Angela’s face is glowing as she asks me if now would be a good time to meet the players. ‘Or would that be too distracting? If they’ve got a strict routine to follow, I don’t want to interfere.’
I honestly don’t know the right answer. Cassie will be delivering her usual pep talk in the locker room. Will Angela’s presence disconcert the team or inspire them? In the end, I decide there’s nothing to lose.
Alasdair stays pitchside with Dad, keen to hear more about how we’re planning to use his donation, and our security guys head off to find refreshments as the corridor to the locker room is not open to fans. Angela’s animated chatter about the match as we walk reminds me of how giddy I used to feel when Dad first started taking me to see Hamcott Park.
‘It’s so much more dramatic than baseball,’ she says. ‘You do usually get a good atmosphere in the bigger baseball arenas, but even if it starts off entertaining it just goes on and on– and it’s so repetitive. I’d say it’s worth seeing once if you haven’t seen it before, but I can’t imagine devoting every weekend to it like you guys do with your football.
‘The last time I went with my boyfriend it lasted more than five hours. Can you imagine? I could have flown from Los Angeles to New York in the time it took the LA Angels to win. There’s no ebb and flow like we’ve been seeing today. Maybe I should persuade him to start watching LA Galaxy instead. I’ve never thought about it before, but I could really see myself getting into it.’
We arrive at the locker room and I shout out ‘incoming’ before pushing open the door, to give everyone inside fair warning. But while I’m expecting to find the players sitting on the benches while Cassie runs through what she wants to see next from them, it only occurs to me when I’m confronted by the sight of eleven bums pointing up towards the ceiling– not as terrible a view as it might sound– that it had been too quiet for Cassie to have been mid-speech.
She registers the alarm on my face as our eyes meet, but when I spin round to tell Angela it’s not a good time to meet the players after all, it’s too late, she’s already followed me in.
‘Oh gosh,’ she exclaims. ‘This is more than I bargained for.’
‘We’re doing some yoga,’ Cassie explains.
‘Now?’ I ask, incredulously.
‘I thought I’d try something different,’ she explains. ‘Rather than trying to hype everyone up, we’re working on grounding ourselves so we can focus better.’
‘Oh, that’s exactly what I like to do before a big scene,’ Angela says. ‘It stops me from panicking about whether I’ll fluff my lines or not. I highly recommend it.’
The sound of her voice has the nearest players scrambling to their feet. I watch Scott and Jacob smoothing down their tops and sweeping their hands through their hair. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Levi smile so broadly.
