Into The Team (21 page)

When the ball came over the line, he noted Wayne and Craig’s retreat, so he edged back towards the penalty box, keeping his eyes open for every one of those green shirts.

The crowd was subdued, but the odd shout echoed, as if this great mass around them wanted to stop the enemy approach.

Daryl went forward, Todd kept behind him. Wayne and Craig spread out, and with Gavin on the far side, and Kieran flanking him, a hard defense was put in place.

The slow attackers appeared uncertain as they passed the ball to and fro. Their eyes were on Todd, and it made him swell with confidence to see them projecting fear. They must be curious about him, wanting to know who this new face was and how he could have scored against them so easily.

But he pushed those thoughts away and focused on the ball. Something had to give soon. The crowd was impatient.

Ahead and to his right, Todd spotted a green shirt rushing forward. His eyes went to the player with the ball, he was getting ready to make a long pass from midfield.

Daryl had him covered, so Todd moved back to protect the penalty box along with Kieran and Brad.

As the ball flew high over heads, arcing down steadily to the receiving green shirt in the far corner, Daryl crouched low, as if ready to leap up and catch the incoming shot. It was the first major attack from the away team, and looking ahead, he saw six green shirts running steadily towards the box.

On the goal line, Adam crouched, his arms outstretched and eyes sharp. The ball came down fast, Daryl ended up in a lock with the opposing player in the corner. Todd moved forward ready to receive.

In a moment that appeared stuck, Daryl’s feet, and the feet of that green shirt he tackled, appeared bound together. The ball darted back and forth like a pinball caught in a trap. Todd surged forward again, shouting his presence to Daryl.

Three green shirts descended and the corner of the field became crowded.

Todd could hardly see Daryl, and too many legs and feet covered the ball. But somehow Todd felt it coming.

And when it did, it came out fast. Daryl lobbed it hard as soon as he got an opening.

Todd was on the ball like a magnet, and with a spin, his feet took off with it. In no time he passed center field, shouts and roars bellowed from everywhere.

Looking ahead, three defenders backed up fast to protect their goal. A glance over his shoulder confirmed what he thought. Red as well as green shirts were on his tail. He ran on, his mind focused on that goal. The crowd roared in his ears.

As he reached the penalty box, the three waiting defenders drew together and blocked his path. He shifted direction, and just as he’d figured, there was Daryl to his right, ready to take it.

Before he could think about it, Todd made the pass.

Daryl took it, tapped it forward once and slammed it across the goal.

Todd hardly saw it go in before the crowd erupted, and before he knew what he was doing, he slammed into Daryl, chest to chest, lips to cheeks, arms gripping hard.

“Beautiful,” Todd whispered in his ear. “Fucking beautiful.”

Daryl kissed him hard on the neck. “You too…”

More bodies crushed in; more lips, more hands.

“Three-Nil,” announced the commentator and the crowd sung: “Atkins shoots Atkins scores,” over and over.

Back in their own half, play resumed. Again it was a slow start, but the away team came forward eventually, this time en masse.

Determination appeared on every face of those green shirts, and it paid off. The two enemy forwards swept by Wayne and Craig and were heading in like a pair of hungry wolves.

Todd darted back to the box as a shot was made. It bounced off the post and came back into play. Spinning fast, he watched it fly over their heads to the corner. Daryl chased it, his eyes on nothing but that spinning ball, and in doing so, he collided with the enemy.

The green shirt was knocked to the ground. Daryl stumbled but regained his balance.

The green shirt sprang to his feet and lunged at Daryl like a bull with a wild glare in his eyes.

Seeing an elbow strike into Daryl’s ribs, Todd forgot the game and ran as fast as he could to his teammate.

On reaching him, Todd slammed into the green shirt, knocking him sideways. The ref blew the whistle.

Daryl clutched his ribs. His face twisted. From his heavy breathing and slight wheezing, Todd could tell he’d been winded badly.

“Fucking cunt!” he shouted at the frowning face to his side as he covered Daryl’s shoulders with his arm.

The ref arrived waving a red card. He aimed it straight at the green shirt. The crowd shouted angrily as he walked off. Next, the ref lifted a yellow card and aimed it at Todd. From all over the stadium a thousand shouts protested.

“He elbowed him,” Todd shouted, pointing at the back of the green shirt making its way to the sideline.

The ref made no response other than to write Todd’s name in his book and turn away.

The crowd died down.

“Are you alright?” Todd asked Daryl. Daryl nodded but Todd could see in his eyes that he wasn’t. And those wheezing breaths sounded harsh.

Kieran was on his other side, arms locked around his back. “Do you need to go off?” He asked. Daryl shook his head.

A medic arrived and took over, telling Todd and Kieran to back away.

As the medic examined Daryl, Todd looked around for that green shirt who’d knocked the wind out of their man. He was walking towards the tunnel. Number nine, McCollen, dark hair.

A minute later, Daryl had his breathing back again. The ref ordered a free kick to him and the lads spread out into midfield, each one marked by a green.

He took it fast. The ball flew up and came down for Wayne on the halfway line. He took it and curled it around his foot, sending it to Craig on his left. It went to Gavin, who ran with it down the outside field.

Todd was in motion down the right, ready to receive. But Trent was there for Gavin and he took the ball forward into the away box. With few defenders making it back in time, Trent had an open shot. And with eyes on fire, and a hard face, he slammed his foot against the ball and the crowd erupted again.

Todd and Gavin arrived at Trent more or less at the same time and piled on him as he ran up the pitch with arms outstretched. The rest of the team arrived moments later and the kissing and hugging grew fierce around Trent.

Four goals up and faces were peeling with excitement. In the celebrations, Todd saw Daryl struggling to smile and went to him.

“Are you ok?”

With a soft wink, Daryl slipped his arm around his waist.

“I am now, Todd,” he said in a low mutter.

The cheers died and the clock was counting down. Ten minutes left to seal this match. Todd wondered if they’d hold back and defend, or pull out the stops and go for humiliating the London City Turds. He knew what he wanted to do, and as he noted the boss on the sideline, gearing up for a substitute, he could see from the man’s serious frown that he wanted them to go for it.

Jake came on and replaced Daryl. A hollow gut took hold of Todd on seeing his partner walking off with his head down. Whatever McCollen did must have been severe, and right now Todd wanted to even that score. Someday their paths would cross again….

No Todd, that isn’t you
....

Already he felt a grim ache after giving a hard shoulder to McCollen. The grim ache of guilt, a foul knowledge he’d done something he’d vowed never to do. But after seeing what that player had done to Daryl, something had taken over him and he…

Todd gazed down at the grass.
Something had taken over the man who’d glassed my father too.

As the fresh-faced Jake came on, Todd dismissed his serious thoughts and gave him a soft touch with the forehead. The nineteen-year olds eyes beamed as he took his position and scanned the field.

Play resumed, and Todd felt something special in the air. The crowd sang, and the laid back flow in the voices that echoed from everywhere, indicated they were just waiting for the whistle now. But Todd could see the slight looks he was getting from Wayne. The captain was sending signals to every one of them, the signal that they were going for it.

As subtle nods passed between each of them, it was clear they were going for a fifth. And they did.

As soon as Craig tackled the ball away from the enemy, every red shirt darted forward. With Jake at his right, Todd thundered past the half way line, keeping his eye out for Craig and Wayne who were now outside the penalty box.

A mass of green shirts huddled around the goal, their faces afraid as Craig passed to Wayne. With no clear shot, Wayne sent it to Jake. Todd received from him and sent it up over the heads of those defenders to Gavin on the far side.

Gavin snaked it in fast, causing the tight defense to surge on him. The ball was up again and back to Todd. He sent it to Wayne who had a direct shot.

It was in!

The crowd thundered. Everyone jumped on Wayne. Todd threw himself into the team, and once again the announcer called the score.

“Five – nil.”

Every face on the team was on fire now. In every set of eyes Todd could see they weren’t through yet. Another one had to go in.

With minutes to go, they took possession again and between Gavin, Trent, and Craig, the ball shot into the net and the stadium vibrated around them.

In the closing minutes, Todd forced another in. And in the last few seconds, Kieran had his moment of glory.

Eight goal win!

As the full time whistle stopped play, Todd almost collapsed. His throat was on fire, his hair stuck to his head. He wandered the pitch aimlessly, his leg muscles throbbing as he stared out at the crowd, wondering where his mother and Cherrie would be. The dutiful shaking of hands occurred, and he nodded politely to each one of the opposing team.

Searching the sideline for Daryl, Todd couldn’t see him and figured he’d be back in the dressing room. So he took himself in the direction of the tunnel and, like the boss had said, he avoided the cameras and men and women with microphones. He just wanted to see Daryl.

Before he’d made it back to the locker room, the boss grabbed his shoulder from behind. Turning around, Todd flinched at the firm stare received. He readied himself for the assault.

“You’re wanted,” Aiden said while lifting his eyebrows.

“Wanted?”

“That’s right.” The boss guided him to the wall, allowing the rest of the team by. “I’ve just been speaking to the camera. It’s set up by the side doors. Remember what I said. You keep it short, smile just a little, and nod politely.”

Todd turned to look down the corridor and saw Wayne standing in front of a backdrop by the side doors. A light, coming from around the corner beyond those doors, cast across his face. “What will they ask?”

“Don’t worry. It’s our special correspondent, he’ll ask about the goals.” The boss smiled for the first time since stopping him. “He’ll want to know how a rookie can play his first game with the team, and yet look like he’s been playing with them for years.”

The words and the look he was getting made Todd’s stomach flutter. But the yellow card popped into his head. “What about the booking?”

“I’ll discuss that with you tomorrow,” Aiden said. “Right now, you need to go and speak to the camera.”

“But will they ask about it?”

“Probably.” The boss nodded. “But remember, keep it short. You did what you did to protect a teammate, and it was sort of an accident anyway.” The look in his eyes commanded that suggestion, and he turned Todd around to face the direction of the press and patted his back. “Off you go.”

With a tired, and now nervous set of legs, Todd walked slowly down the corridor to where the camera pointed at Wayne.

“…It shows we’ve got strong back up,” Wayne was saying as he reached him. “The boss knows how to pick em, and anyone of those lads on the pitch tonight could play for the first team when needed.” He noticed Todd and smiled. “Anyway, I’ll hand you over to our newest talent.”

Todd expected to see a herd of journalists and cameras waiting around the corner, but instead there was just one cameraman, one journalist, and a man holding a large lamp.

The camera turned on Todd, and the spotlight blinded him. Wayne stood away from the backdrop - a large cloth showing the names of the clubs main sponsors.

When Todd placed himself in front of the backdrop, the journalist began.

“Todd Mackerson, great to meet you at last,” he said in a rehearsed voice. “There have been rumors floating around the sports pages suggesting the Reds had a new rookie, and I guess you’re him. So tell us about the experience tonight.”

Todd glanced at Wayne, who gave a nod of encouragement. Keep it short, the boss had said, and with that in mind he turned back to the interviewer.

“It was a great experience for me to go out on the pitch and play for the first time,” he said in a firm and low voice, smiling slightly. “A dream come true.”

“And did you expect to score twice?”

Todd didn’t want anyone thinking his goals were flukes, but he didn’t want to appear arrogant either.

“I planned to give it my best shot,” he said with a serious frown, noting a slow nod from Wayne. “And when the opportunities came, I took them.”

“Now there was a bit of an issue with Thomas McCollen in the home corner tonight. Can you tell us about that?”

Todd gave a moment’s thought.

“It was an unfriendly dig he gave to one of my teammates, and so I rushed over to check Daryl was ok. Things got a bit heavy for a second, but I think he knew he was in the wrong.”

“You and Daryl made a stunning run that ended in that amazing goal during the second half tonight, have you been training well with the club’s model player?”

A soft pinch in Todd’s heart made him wonder where Daryl was now, if he was hurt badly.

“I’ve worked with Daryl these past few weeks. I play well with him, just like I do with all the lads.”

A friendly nod from the journalist signaled the end of the chat.

“I think the premier league will be looking out for you from now on.” The man thanked him and Todd smiled politely, just like the boss had said.

As he and Wayne walked off together, the captain gripped his shoulder.

“You shone tonight,” he said. “The boss is impressed.”

“What about the booking though?” asked Todd.

Wayne gave an indifferent shrug. “Try not to worry. You did what any one of us would have done.”

Todd turned back to see the cameraman and the interviewer packing up.

“Will that be on the news later?”

“Maybe, if the boss thinks it’s good enough to release.”

“So that wasn’t the press?”

“That’s the resident PR guy. The boss wants to see what you’re like on camera.”

“It wasn’t real?”

Wayne smiled and massaged his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you did ok, matey.”

They reached the locker room. Inside, the lads were in various states of dress and undress, and although everyone must have been knackered, eyes were beaming. Todd spotted Daryl seated on the bench against the far wall. His top was off and he gripped an ice pack to his side.

“Here’s the man!”

That came from Gavin as he clocked Todd and Wayne walking in. As he tried to make his way over to Daryl, who’d just looked up expectantly, Brad and Craig grabbed Todd. Hands rubbed his head hard and a kiss landed on his cheek.

“That McCollen is a fucking dick,” Brad said while slamming a heavy hand on Todd’s back. “You did well to shoulder him.”

Todd nodded, his eyes on Daryl’s.

Wayne gripped Todd’s shoulders. “Who do you reckon the press will be talking about after that match?”

A few eyes glanced at each other. Todd noted a few on him. Gavin slowly nodded.

“Toddy boy,” he said with a long emphasis on boy.

“You better prepare yourself.” Wayne looked at Todd with warning eyes. “They’ll be photographing you wherever you go now. The boss will be keeping you locked up for a few weeks.”

“What? Why?”

“He won’t want you doing anything to get them excited.”

Todd glanced around and saw a few more nods.

“You’ll be getting your own car now,” Gavin said. “The boss won’t have you without one after scoring.”

“A car?” Todd shook his head. “Are you serious?”

“Next time he speaks to you I bet you any money he’ll ask what kind of cars you like,” Wayne said. “But play ignorant. Don’t say I told you.”

The idea of having his own car had always been some vague, distant notion, and now it seemed one would be given to him.

“It’s all about image,” Trent said as Gavin stroked his head. “And he’ll want to reward you for tonight.”

“You did great, Todd.” Gavin winked. “You hammered through their defense and put two in. And when you legged it down the pitch with Daryl, that was pure magic.”

Everyone nodded.

“You and Daryl were hot tonight,” Kieran smiled and turned away while pulling his shorts off.

Craig leaned in and spoke in a low voice. “Daryl’s a bit pissed off about what happened.”

Todd looked back to Daryl, seeing a serious look on his face as he rested his head against the wall and stared at the ceiling. “He seemed ok after it happened.”

“Yeah, what Daryl seems and what he is are two different things,” Craig said.

“I reckon he’ll be fuming,” Wayne muttered. “He’s good at keeping things in, but that dig he got will play on his mind.”

“Yeah, and if he can’t play Saturday he’ll be in a twat of a mood,” Gavin added quietly.

“Maybe you should speak to him,” Wayne said, nudging Todd.

As the rest of the players stripped off, Todd wandered over to where Daryl sat staring into air.

He sat down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“How is it?”

Daryl lifted the ice pack and revealed a bruise over his lower left ribs.

“Shit.” Todd stared at the deep blue pattern under his skin. “Is it still hurting?”

“It’s not bad now.” Daryl frowned. “The worst was the fucking winding I took off that cunt.”

“I gave him a good nudge,” Todd muttered. “I think he felt my shoulder.”

Daryl smiled and knocked his head slightly against Todd’s.

Aiden walked in, his eyes serious.

“Listen up lads,” he shouted. “I’m not saying anything except well done. As always, I was proud to stand on the sideline tonight. The crowd responded well to you all. Tomorrow you’ve got the day to yourselves, so don’t head down to The Valley unless you can’t stay away.”

That provoked a few quiet cheers.

“Except you, Todd.” The boss aimed his eyes on him. “I’ll see you in my office at 9 AM.”

Todd swallowed. That will no doubt be his yellow card bollocking.

“Everyone else, get yourselves clean and head up to the club room for a few beers.” He gave a few handshakes before heading off.

Todd wondered what that meant. Was he not allowed in the club room? The lads said nothing as they went to bathe. Todd sat with Daryl, feeling like an outsider again.

“Don’t worry,” Daryl whispered. “He just wants you to sweat for a bit.”

Todd searched his eyes for sincerity. With his free hand, Daryl gripped Todd’s thigh and nodded.

“Coming for a bath?” Todd asked. Looking down at the bruise, he didn’t think he would.

“I might just take a shower,” Daryl said. “The physio told me to keep ice on it.”

“Do you need any help?”

Daryl looked at him with blank eyes. For a moment Todd wondered if he’d asked the wrong thing, perhaps overstepped the mark. But they’d already pressed cocks together, and slept like two lovers on the sofa, so it didn’t seem too much of an issue to offer help in the shower. After a few seconds, Daryl’s eyes glinted.

The bath at the stadium was twice as big as the one at The Valley. The shower room was next door. As the lads voices, mixed with splashes of water, echoed from along the corridor, Todd and Daryl headed to the showers.

“Watch the temperature,” Daryl said as he stood back from the jet.

Todd adjusted the control switch, turning it down to lukewarm. He held a hand beneath the jet until it felt comfortable.

“That should be ok.”

Daryl stepped under and allowed the water to spray his hair and face while Todd dispensed soap and rubbed his hands together.

After dampening his body, Daryl stood back.

Todd started with his hair. Standing behind him he placed his hands on the damp, now darkened locks, and rubbed slowly. Daryl had soft hair, with slight waves. Todd had spent the odd moment, over the last few weeks, noticing the way it seemed to glow in the sun. Natural blondes were rare. Most fair-haired kids grew darker as they aged. But Daryl had kept his color well.

“Do you bleach your hair?” he asked.

For a moment, Daryl was silent. “No, I fucking don’t.”

Todd felt stupid for asking. “Sorry.” He chuckled. Beneath his palms he felt Daryl rocking as if finding his question amusing.

“Do you dye yours brown?” he asked sarcastically.

Todd smiled as he soaped his neck. “I was just thinking most blondes put highlights in their hair.”

“I promise you, I don’t.”

Todd smirked and began to soap his back. He had a smooth back, and it tapered down nicely to the concave of his small, which felt hairless under Todd’s palms.

His butt was also smooth, and perfectly rounded. Feeling it now, beneath the slippery gel, reminded Todd of that hot gripping session in the sauna.

“You have a sexy butt, Daryl,” he said, crouching to lather the back of his thighs.

“Thanks.” Daryl laughed and took in a sharp breath, as if his ribs suddenly pained. “You have too,” he said.

They were silent for a short time and Todd began on his calves.

“What about my legs?” Daryl asked with a soft chuckle.

Todd held back his grin.

“Good,” he said. “They run well.” He soaped around the shins and worked his way up his solid thighs, making sure all the dirt and grass came off.

“Are you going to say anything about my cock?” Daryl asked.

Looking at it, Todd saw it was limp. He didn’t expect it to be anything else, and his own cock wasn’t turned on either.

“Not bad, I’m guessing it knows how to do its job,” he laughed.

Above him he could sense Daryl holding his laugh as Todd reached up his thighs. Without feeling like he was out of bounds, he smoothed the soap up his inside leg and began rubbing his balls.

It didn’t feel odd to be in the shower washing another man’s balls. Not since he’d worked Kieran’s cock, and had Jason and Sean work on his.

Standing up again, he searched Daryl’s eyes as he lathered his cock and pubes. Daryl stared back at him, his mouth in a half state of amusement. Todd worked his hands up his stomach.

“Nice abs,” he commented while carefully soaping around the ice pack Daryl gripped to his ribs.