Page 86 of Playing the Field
‘I love you inDying Days,’ he gushes, thumping his chest. ‘Big fan.’
‘Playing it cool as always,’ Craig mutters, rolling his eyes.
Angela laughs. ‘It’s always lovely to hear. I hope you’ll all forgive the intrusion today. I’ve got such a fascination with what goes on behind the scenes. I think it comes from being on TV and knowing how different the reality is to what you get to see on screen.’
‘It’s not usually like this,’ Craig tells her.
‘But if it helps you guys be even more awesome, then it’s got to be worth it, right?’
‘Exactly, so how about you get back into position,’ Cassie says, her voice commanding. ‘Hands to the floor, buns back in the air please. Two more minutes of downward dog then we’ll have just enough time for dancer pose, then tree.’
She catches my eye again and winks at me as the players drop back on to all fours. Angela smiles approvingly and says, ‘That’s how to boss it.’
‘I’m just going to film a bit of this for the fan site,’ I tell them, and Angela asks if I’d like her to join in with the team for it.
‘I don’t imagine the floor is particularly clean.’
‘Hands can be washed,’ she says brightly, ‘and there’s no harm in letting people see my fun side every now and again.’
The resulting footage later becomes our most-watched reel.
Hamstrings stretched, Cassie gets everyone into dancer pose to work on their thighs. While Angela is perfectly poised, with one leg raised up behind her, the same can’t be said for Jacob or Elliot, who wobble precariously next to her. It gives Elliot the giggles, which sets everyone else off. It makes me optimistic that Cassie may be onto something here. The team definitely seem to be leaving the stress of the match behind them.
‘Last up, tree,’ Cassie instructs. And this time Angela makes her way round the room while everyone’s balancing, telling each player how privileged she feels to meet them. It’s so humble, given that she’s the star, and I think they all fall a little bit in love with her.
Back out on the pitch, our fans have another surprise in store for us. As the lads fire themselves back up with a few short sprints, the crowd launches into a rendition of our new team song. It makes my heart swell. The sound of four thousand voices echoing round the ground in support of our players will never grow old.
‘Come on, boys,’ I whisper under my breath, crossing my fingers in my lap as the referee blows the whistle and the second half gets underway. They so deserve a break. Please let it be today.
But it’s a fraught first ten minutes for our team as Ashbridge waste no time piling on the pressure. They quickly close in on anyone who gets the ball in midfield until it’s back in their possession. Twice they break away from our defenders and race towards the goal, and we only get away with their first surge forward thanks to a poorly taken header. The second onslaught is even more gut-wrenching as the ball skims the top of the net with mere inches to spare.
‘It’s giving me palpitations,’ Angela admits and I think we all share that sentiment.
Our fans step their chanting up a notch and the team song rings out round the stadium. Spurred on by their support, Nico manages to keep hold of the ball long enough to reach the thirty-yard mark, but it’s almost like he’s so surprised to find himself there that he doesn’t know what to do next and Ashbridge take full advantage of his hesitation, leaving Crawford on the back foot yet again.
Some solid teamwork from Thomas and Jacob puts things back in our favour, and this time Bailey weaves his way through the opposition with a timely display of the skill for which we selected him in the first place.
‘That’s my boy,’ I murmur. ‘You can do it.’
But when he passes the ball wide to Adio, instead of running with it Adio decides to fire a wild ball down the pitch in the hope it’ll be picked up by Craig.
I think everyone watching feels their heart sink, believing he should have just kept hold of it as both Craig and the Ashbridge defenders tear after it. But it’s the seventy-seventh minute, legs are starting to get tired and it turns out Craig just has the edge.
The Crawford fans leap to their feet, hollering ‘come on’ at him as he gets to the ball first.
‘Keep your cool now, don’t rush it,’ I murmur, on the edge of my seat as his teammates scramble up the pitch to help him.
But Craig isn’t waiting. He deftly switches the ball to his right foot and pelts it towards the goal when he’s still some distance away, and for a second you could hear a pin drop as four thousand fans hold their breath.
We follow its arc with our eyes, willing it– for once– to go in, and there’s a horror second in which we all hear the clink of metal that tells us he’s hit the post yet again. But just as disappointment is about to send everyone slumping back into their seats, the ball ricochets awkwardly, slips through the goalkeeper’s fingers and drops into the back of the net. I can’t even describe the euphoria or the volume of the cheering as Craig slides across the grass on his knees in celebration.
I get goose bumps at the sight of all the dancing, hugging and even tears in the stands, while the rest of the team pile on top of Craig on the pitch. We’ve done it! We have finally broken the dry spell that’s plagued Crawford United since the beginning of the season and scored our first ever goal. I’d say it’s just about the happiest I’ve ever been.
There’s an agonising wait for the clock to tick down after that. The fightback from Ashbridge is relentless, with no less than three shots on target, and I can feel the tension throughout my whole body, my hands balled into fists, my knees squeezed together, my jaw clenched. But Thomas and Levi defend as if their lives depend on it, and Elliot makes the save of the match, flinging himself into the path of the ball in the closing minutes as if he’s trying to save a family member from a flying bullet.
I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved than when I hear the three long whistles from the referee to signal the end of the game. As the crowd erupts, Dad, Cassie and I race out on to the pitch, throwing our arms round the players who haven’t sunk to their knees as if they’ve just won the FA Cup. It’s been such a long time coming. It issucha relief. And to have won against the top team in the league only makes the victory sweeter.
If Ashbridge are in any way put out by our over-the-top celebration, they don’t show it. They were here too once upon a time, so they know how much it means. When Dad and I have finally calmed down a bit, their managers congratulate us on a brilliantly played game and wish us well for the rest of the season.
