“You did well today.I think you’ll make it pro one day.Not at imaginary ball, as you’re quite shit at that, but at the real stuff.”
“Thank you.And if the role of a drill sergeant ever comes up, you’ll get it, hands down.”
“You are so kind, but flattery will only get you more burpees.”
“No!No more!I can’t take them.”
She laughs.Like an actual movie villain.
“Remind me again why I hired you?”
“Because I’m the best and you know it.”
I grunt at her and drink the protein shake.I don’t feel like admitting she is right.
I would love to say that Trish Camp went by smoothly, and without any incident at all.However, it didn’t.Trish woke me up earlier and earlier each day, making me run longer, making me endure more burpees, and when I wanted to stop, she made me do more.
I will never, ever admit this to her, but I’m glad she pushed me so intensely.Returning to the team today will feel like a holiday, and I will be ready to outrun everyone.I can also confirm I am now “adequate” at “invisi-ball.”I'm proud of this for reasons I’m not sure of.
Walking into the dressing room, I’m greeted by Jackson with a nod.He was one of the quiet ones on the England squad.Bradley, on the other hand, also part of the England squad, gives me a wide berth.I ignore it, because, well, fuck him.In the eyes of the media,I am the victim.There have been calls for interviews, to what my side of the story is, but I have declined them all.I know they will make it worse, twist my words, and use them as ammo to hurt AJ.
“Welcome back, Kyle,” says Whitney, our Welsh goalie.
“Thanks.”
“Missed you the last two games,” he says, strapping up his giant hands before inserting them into his gloves, a red dragon emblazoned on each.He’s an extremely proud Welshman, and I respect that.
“Me too.Can’t wait to get back out there and help the team.”
“You’ve got a Golden Boot record to protect too,” says our captain, Shippers.“Can’t believe that prick started on you,” he says, pulling on his training kit.“What was it even about anyway?”I shift uncomfortably.
“He was probably drunk.I can’t remember much.You know what the media is like.They take anything out of context and run with it.”
“So, he wasn’t about to beat you up?”Bradley asks from the other side of the room.I’m extremely glad he’s piped up.I was wondering when someone was going to put fifty pence in the dickhead.
“I don’t recall saying that,” I say, opening my kit bag and taking out my boots.
“I can’t believe you let a queer looking guy put a hand on you anyway,” he says, blowing out air from his lips.
I bite back my anger and swallow my rage.It wouldn’t be good to get into an actual fight with another one of my teammates.
“What makes you think he’s queer?Have you had sex with him?Are you a lover of his?”I rise to the bait, and instantly regret it.Bradley comes around to my side of the locker room and stares at me.He’s taller than me, but not by much.I look into his dark brown eyes, and I smile.This seems to wind him up more.Good.
“I’m one hundred percent straight.One hundred percent Alpha Male,” he announces proudly, and he actually flexes his muscles.Honestly, what the fuck is wrong with some people.He’s twenty-nine years of age, and he’s acting like aroadman.
“Then you should have nothing to worry about,” says Shippers, and I’m glad for his intervention.
More players filter in, and I continue with my ritual.
Training is as easy as I suspected it would be, thanks to Trish Camp.I’m doing some warm-down stretches on the far side of the field when my manager comes over to me.My heart flips in my chest.
“Good work out there today.I’m going to put you on the bench against the Magpies.Stay out of trouble and you’ll get more game time.Use it to help the team and you’ll be back in the starting lineup.”
“Thank you, sir,” I say, giving him as much respect as he deserves.You don’t become one of the greatest managers of all time without earning respect from everyone in your profession.
I finish my private training session with shooting practice.Sinking every shot.Swish.
Chapter 27
