Page 200 of Playing By Ear

“Just another match, huh?” Katie muttered beside Jamie.

“Imagine what it’ll be like in the stadium,” he replied.

“From social media I knew a lot of fans were coming, but I didn’t realize it would be this intense.” Her pale face was pinched with anxiety.

Katie was so big and tough, Jamie often forgot she was barely twenty years old. None of the Warriors had experience with such an important match, whereas their opponents, Forthside United, had played in three Amateur Cup finals in the last four years and won every time.

The wind came up, swirling the smoke away and revealing a throng of Rainbow Regimenters line-dancing in the Hampden carpark.

Jamie smiled despite his nerves. With such fans behind them, how could they lose?

“I’m so terrified, I might actually boak.”

Perry gripped John’s arm as they made their way to their seats in the stadium. “Seriously?”

“Gonnae no worry, before we left I took Dramamine, which should keep my stomach contents inside my body. Not that I have any stomach contents, as I was too nervous to eat first or second breakfast.”

“Dramamine always makes my head a bit loopy,” Perry said.

“Same,” Ben said behind them, “especially on an empty stomach.”

“Me, too,” John said. “So today should be interesting!” An uneasy chortle bubbled up from his throat.

Thus far, Perry was too busy forming a picture of the world around him to be nervous. It sounded as though the crowd was clustered on one side of the stadium, here in the South Stand, which made for a better atmosphere in the cavernous, bowl-shaped venue. The day was sunny, but the wind was picking up, which usually meant fast-moving, strobe-inducing, migraine-making clouds.

Still, to be here on this immense day was worth any pain. A headache was temporary, but he and Jamie…they might be forever.

Jamie tried to keep the head as he entered the tunnel that led to the Hampden pitch for prematch warmups. But he couldn’t stop thinking of the legendary players who’d stood on this path. Diego Maradona. Zinedine Zidane. Not to mention yesterday’s hero, David Gray, who’d headed home a stoppage-time goal to win Hibernian their first Scottish Cup in 114 years.

So many pros had shone here. Now it was the amateurs’ moment in the sun.

“Guthrie, aren’t you the one going with a cam boy?”

Jamie looked over at Forthside United queued up along the opposite wall. The tall blond forward, Grimes, was leering at him.

The player in front of Grimes looked between them, then asked, “What, the blind one who lets guys perv all over him for money?”

“Youse looking for a private show?” Jamie asked them. “It’ll cost extra.”

Laughter echoed against the tunnel walls from all who’d heard.

Jamie’s teammate Craig elbowed him. “Nice one.”

“How is it even legal?” Grimes asked with a bit of a sputter. “It’s basically prostitution, aye?”

“Better hope not,” Jamie said, “or your mum’ll find herself⁠—”

“Oi!” Grimes’ goalkeeper grabbed the forward by his collar. He leaned in to speak to Grimes in a low, growling voice. It was hard to hear over the chatter in the tunnel and the clamor of the crowd outside, but one word was unmistakable:

MacKray.

Grimes froze, then blinked hard. He sent Jamie one final glance, then lowered his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he mumbled an apology.

Jamie grasped for a joke to set everyone at ease, but his mind blanked. When it came to his family, his deep well of banter was now bone dry.

So he merely set his jaw and left Grimes with a silent reproach. If the forward’s fear gave Jamie an advantage on the pitch, all the better. He and the Warriors needed every edge they could get.

The stadium throbbed in Perry’s bones.