Page 85 of Team Russian


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“You really don’t have to walk me up here,” I said to Sasha as we entered the VIP and partners area.

“Are you kidding me? Like I’m going to have grumpy bum giving me a hard time on Monday morning,” she said, and snorted.

I laughed, thinking of The Russian holding court in the office. We got to the grandstand we needed and Sasha walked straight in, wearing her Saints’ uniform; she greeted the security guy. I flashed my VIP pass, but he recognized me and congratulated me on my game last night. So kind.

Mia and Alice were both there, along with their younger brothers whom I met – Alice was in her Saints’ uniform, so I was guessing she had been working earlier or was still on the job. Then Eddie’s partner Tiffany arrived, along with Buzz’s fiancée, Laura. Tiff and Laura insisted I sit next to them, which was great ... I really liked Tiff, and Laura was a lot of fun. The two of them together were a bit outrageous and outspoken, which was just what I needed – a distraction.

“You know our boys don’t like each other,” Laura nudged me, “… so we should become best friends.”

“Men,” I shook my head and they both laughed. Then the coach’s wife, Elizabeth, came over to greet us and I met her for the first time. She would have been in her fifties, and so striking. I had heard she was an ex-model and she still had the classic good looks and grooming.

“Ah,” she said, smiling at me as she took my hand. “I heard that The Russian had lost his heart and I can see why.”

“Thank you,” I said, delighted to hear word traveled fast.

“Congratulations on a very impressive last game too,” she said. “I was allowed to watch a bit of it when all the other soccer games had finished,” she said, with a roll of her eyes.

I laughed.

“I know the feeling ... I’m always torn between sports, but living alone I usually control the remote,” I told her. We spoke for a few minutes and then, Elizabeth went to sit with a friend, and Tiff, Laura and I went up to the bar to grab a drink. We got back just in time as the boys began to come out on the oval. I looked out for my guy ... I was so excited to be able to watch the whole game without reporting on it.

The Russian, like all the players, had his own dedicated fan group and his fans were a mix of all ages, especially young kids and females keen to get his attention. There were banners with his name on it, and as he did the lap of the ground with the team, the kids ran along the edges calling out to him and other players. As he came around to my side, his eyes sought me out in our grandstand and when he found me, I swear his chest deflated as he relaxed and exhaled. For me it was the opposite – my heart rate went up and my body went on alert. Mm, funny that.

The Saints were playing the New York Reds and last time they had played them, it had been a draw. Both teams were determined not to let that happen again, although it was a bit of an occupational hazard in soccer.

“That’s a fine butt your man has there,” Tiffany nudged me, and Laura burst out laughing.

“You can’t say that,” Laura said.

“Why not?” Tiffany looked horrified. “I can admire the view.”

“It is a fine butt,” I agreed, “there are quite a few fine looking butts down there.”

Laura shook her head. “Carla, do not encourage her. Tiffany, you look at your own man’s butt.”

“Oh, I’ve seen Eddie’s butt many a time and I never tire of it,” Tiffany began. As if he knew we were talking about him, Eddie looked straight up at us and gave Tiffany a quick smile.

“Ain’t love grand?” I said.

“It will be if they win,” Tiffany said.

“Hell yeah. When they lose, Buzz goes into this deep funk ... takes all my skills to lift him out.”

It made me think about my own performance in relationships, after the Suns lost games. Sometimes you forget to think about the partner and what they go through too.

The game began and the crowd really got into it, and so did we. It was so much fun to be watching instead of working, to see The Russian’s moves, watch him in action, watch his concentration and the way he read the play. It was great to see the other guys playing as a team too, especially now that I was getting to know them all personally. Plus, I got to watch The Russian for the whole game and not have to give equal time to all players ... bliss.

The game started off fast and full-on, as if both teams decided it was the first half that was going to win the match. We—being the Saints—got an early goal and we went berserk, so did the fans. It was nicely fed to Tomás who put it away; we all congratulated Alice as if she had kicked it herself. Just as the Reds looked like they were going to increase their assault, my man The Russian counter-attacked with venom, redirecting the ball and feeding it to Captain Fantastic, who moved it back down to the Kaiser—Nik, Sasha’s man—and in it went for a goal. We were so excited that nothing could have ever provided the high we were on.

The boys were looking good out there, and my guy in particular was looking gorgeous – determined, sweaty, in-charge and mine. Mm, I would have loved to do him right there, right then. I opened my bottle of water and took a cooling sip ... better. The Saints had a 2-0 lead going into half-time, and as the boys left the field, Laura and Tiffany dragged me back to the bar. They were such a bad influence.

I made sure I was back in place before the team ran out again, and right from the start the NY Reds were in trouble. Thank goodness – I know it’s great for the fans, but I can’t stand a tense and close game when I’m emotionally involved ... it just kills you. The Saints had it all over the NY Reds; in fact, it just looked like the visitors lacked imagination. In the heat of the moment the referee pulled out the yellow card for one of the opposition who was playing against Buzz – I heard Tiffany mutter “thank God it wasn’t Buzz”.

It was all downhill from there for the Reds; the Saints brought it home and sealed the result with a fantastic display of team effort – Lucas, The Russian, Harry and Tomás were all involved in that final goal, and the Saints booked their place in the finals. At the final whistle, the huge crowd was on its feet cheering the Saints who had taken the game 4-1.

It was going to be a great night, and tomorrow, The Russian was going to meet my parents.

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