AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I was having the craic.”
“You were insulting my girl.”
“She’s not your girl, you spanner. She’s my sister.”
“Stay out of this, Hugh. I’m defending my intended’s honor.”
“Gibs, I swear to god if you don’t pack that intended bullshit in—”
“Gibson. Callaghan. Biggs!” Coach barked, dragging my attention away from the heated conversation I was attempting to have with the two assholes on either side of me. “If you’re able to talk, you’re not working hard enough!”
“When can we stop, Coach?” Pierce called out from further up the line, writhing in pain as he tried to maintain his position. “I’m in a lot of pain here.”
“We’re all in pain, dickhead.” Murph, another one of our teammates, bit out. “But some of us don’t deserve it.”
“Pain?” Coach laughed humorlessly. “I’ll give you pain, you little bollox.”
Pain was an understatement for the suffering Coach was inflicting on us. Twenty-five minutes in the plank position was enough to kill a horse. A few hours in the barracks would have been an easier punishment to take.
“Please, Coach. School finished an hour ago.”
“I’ll keep you here all night if you don’t shut your holes and concentrate!”
“I hate you all,” Feely muttered, a few bodies up.
“Jesus, I can’t,” Robbie Mac groaned, collapsing in a heap on the grass. “My arms are bolloxed, Coach. I’m dying here.”
“Back in the plank position!” Blowing on his whistle like a demented lunatic, Coach marched up and down the line, using his foot to shove any rogue asses back into position. “I want you eating grass and puking it back up, ye little bolloxes!”
Another five minutes ticked by achingly slowly before the sound of that god-awful whistle pierced the air again. “Right. I want everyone on their feet. Shake it out and then give me two hundred suicides.”
“Ah, Jesus, Coach.”
“I have homework.”
“I have work.”
“Please, God, no!”
“Make that three hundred!” Another sharp whistle sounded. “And if you’re all still breathing afterward, we’ll wrap up this team bonding with a technical session.”
_______________
“Move, your legs, Gibs.”
“I am, Cap.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yeah, I fucking am.”
“Your frame is completely stagnant, lad,” he continued to complain. “Lift him higher.”
“Easy for you to say, back-bitch,” I bit out, heaving against the pressure in my shoulders as I tried to hold my form and not drop my teammate, who I was attempting to thrust into the air for a practiced line-out.
“Don’t drop me, Gibs,” Danny called out. “My body’s in bits.”
“I’ve got you, lad,” I grunted, all earlier issues well and truly sweated out of my system.
