‘Hey, you OK?’ Deen’s voice brings me back to reality, though the rush of blood in my ears is still a little loud.
‘Why are there so many people here?’ I ask. Maya had said that there would be more people than anticipated, but I didn’t think the local paper would get this much attention. And I had no idea that people on the internet would actually be motivated to leave their house and come to watch this match. I just hope that the girls on the team can handle it.
‘Your team is a viral sensation,’ Deen says enthusiastically. He rubs my back, like he knows I need the reassurance. ‘You going to be OK? You don’t have to talk to the reporters.’
‘Yeah, I know. I won’t.’ I spot Jen, leading the Divas towards the pitch, a frown on her face. She’s clearly as unhappy about the turnout as me. But seeing her, and seeing the team, actually helps put my mind at ease. It reminds meof the real reason why we’re here and why we’re playing this match.
‘I should go and talk to Jen,’ I say, turning to Deen. It’s only then that I see the large cardboard sign that he has tucked under his arm. ‘What’s that?’
‘Oh, this?’ Deen asks, innocently. He grins as he untucks it and flashes it in front of my face.The Divas are number one – they’ll score a home run!it reads in glittery gold bubble letters.
‘You know that a home run is … baseball, right?’
Deen just shrugs, looking at his sign with a proud smile. ‘It gets the job done. I was initially trying to find a rhyme for the Divas, but the best I could come up with was “Go, go the Divas, give them amnesia,” which seemed a bit aggressive.’
I roll my eyes, glad that Deen didn’t go with his first instinct. I would take the baseball reference overamnesia– which doesn’t even rhyme with the Divas, but I don’t have the heart to tell Deen that.
‘I’ll see you after the match, OK?’ I say.
Deen nods, giving me an encouraging pat on my shoulder. ‘I brought some snacks from the restaurant, and I’ll be handing them out to the crowd with your friends and Ma.’ He nods to a corner of the field, where my friends are talking to Ma, each with multiple tote bags bursting with snacks slung around their arms.
‘Ma came?’ I ask, astonished. We haven’t really talked about football or my coaching since she helped me source t-shirts for the team. Every time I’ve had dinner at hers, we’ve skirted around the topic, even though it has taken over my life. Instead, we reminisced about Baba and talked about her thriving garden.
‘Not only did she come, she invited a bunch of Bengali aunties and uncles,’ Deen says. He points to the crowd,where I can see a small gathering of familiar faces. I even spot a smiling Zulaykha with her fiancé, and they wave at me enthusiastically when they spot me.
Deen doesn’t seem as fazed by Ma’s sudden support as me. Maybe because Deen has always been able to read her, in a way that I haven’t.
‘Did she … say anything?’
Deen shakes his head. ‘No. She must have seen it in the papers or something … She just told me that she wanted to come with me, and she asked if your friends were going and when I said I didn’t know, she made us drive to your place to pick them up.’ Deen must see the worry creasing my brow because he gives me a reassuring smile. ‘It’s good that she’s here, I promise. Now go, and stop worrying so much.’
I take a deep breath and nod. ‘Thanks. I’ll see you soon.’ I turn away from him and walk towards Jen and the team.
‘Wow, what a turnout, right?’ Jen says, feigning a smile as I approach. She’s clearly just as nervous about all the attention as I am. ‘Who could have predicted this?’
Apparently, Maya, but I don’t say that.
At least the girls seem enthused about the crowd.
‘Do you think they’ll interview us for the news?’ Sara asks, trying to fix her messy ponytail into something more presentable.
‘You can borrow some of my make-up if you want!’ Jade offers enthusiastically, offering her a clear plastic make-up bag that’s full to burst. I intercept it from Jade, frowning at the girls.
‘You know you can’t wear that much make-up while playing football. What you have on already is fine,’ I say firmly. ‘And … you shouldn’t talk to the reporters. It’s not a good idea.’
Sara frowns, deflating a little, but when Jen nods in agreement with me, the girls seem to remember the real reason why they’re here. I hand Jade back her make-up bag and pass around some hair ties for the girls who need them.
I see Maya, leading her team onto the pitch. She gives Jen an enthusiastic smile and greeting, before turning to me with only half the enthusiasm she had for Jen. There’s so much I want to say to Maya but now is not the right time. And I’m not brave enough anyway.
‘Should we get started?’ Maya asks.
‘Yes, we’re ready to go,’ Jen says. She waves to the referee, who starts to get everyone organised.
Westbrook win the toss for kick-off, and Jen, Maya and I move off to the touchline, letting the teams take their positions. With a blow of the referee’s whistle, the match begins.
Despite Westbrook kicking off, Sophie manages to get the ball from them quickly. She weaves it around a few players from the other team, but just as she’s about to pass it to Sara, she’s tackled. But Sophie doesn’t just lose the ball, she falls to the floor, and a loud crack reverberates around the entire park.
The whole thing seems to happen in slow motion, and I can see Sophie’s face contort in pain. For a moment, I’m stood frozen. My mind floods with the memory of the practice where I injured myself. How it had ruined everything for me.
