Football Girl ~ Chapter 5

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Angel

I walked through. Josie was sitting on the sofa glancing through the girlie magazine I had left there. She looked up and, at the sight of me, dropped the magazine on her lap. She was frowning and her mouth was open...

Football Girl

By Susan Brown

Chapter 5

Previously...

I pulled up my dress and with a bit of difficulty just managed to pull the zip up my back. Smoothing the dress down, I realized how much I loved the huggy sort of feeling it gave me. Finally, I placed my small gold cross necklace around my neck and gold bracelet on my wrist. I had bought them a few years before and had never worn them–until now.

Finally I picked up my brush and pulled it through my hair, brushing it until it shone and then parting it neatly in the middle.

I regretted that I had no shoes yet but remembered that some were arriving by post the next morning. I thought that I must remember to stay in for that–if I can get through this evening, that is!

I crossed to the mirror and liked what I saw. I just hoped that Josie would too.

I went to the bedroom door, took a deep breath and opened it.

And now the story continues…

1


I walked through. Josie was sitting on the sofa glancing through the girlie magazine I had left there. She looked up and, at the sight of me, dropped the magazine on her lap. She was frowning and her mouth was open. For some reason my eyes locked on her mouth, instantly thinking what a nice shade of pink lipstick. Then my heart started thumping even harder. Would she laugh? Did I look so bad that words wouldn’t express just how silly I looked?

‘I look silly; tell me, I can take it.’

Josie just looked at me and stood up, the magazine falling off her lap unnoticed. She appeared to be upset for some reason; did I look that bad? At least she wasn’t laughing–maybe she pitied me. What would Jeff say? Would he laugh and tell me to be a man? All these thoughts went through me in seconds as I stood there in my little black dress, my legs being hugged by the tights. I was so aware of how feminine I felt, but that didn’t matter a jot if I wasn’t going to be accepted for what I was–a girl, by one of the few people who I loved and respected.

‘Susan.’ She sort of squeaked, then shook her head slightly as if to clear it. ‘Susan,’ she repeated. She had tears in her eyes. Why did she keep saying my name like that? Was she so upset that she didn’t know what to say? So many questions and why did she have moist eyes. Had I upset her that much? I turned to go back into the bedroom, too embarrassed to face her any longer, The pain in my heart was like a dagger; I had lost everything…

‘Susan stop; where are you going?’

‘T…to get ch…changed. You think I look stupid, bad, terrible. I can tell by the look on your face…’

‘STOP–please, honey. Come here.’

Her arms were open and I just rushed over to her. I may have looked stupid and just a boy dressed up as a girl, but I think she still loved me.

Her perfume smelt so nice as I hugged her. Why was I thinking about perfume at a time like this?

She pushed me away slightly and stared into my eyes.

‘I…I didn’t know.’

‘Know what?’ I gulped.

‘That you really are Susan–and not Mark.’

‘I don’t understand.’ I said as we sat on the sofa, holding hands.

‘As soon as I saw you I could see. You looked so normal–as a girl I mean. You weren’t a boy pretending or playing dress up. You were–are the real thing. I can now understand why you have gone through all the heartache and you are sooo beautiful…’

‘I am not!’ I exclaimed.

‘Don’t put yourself down like you normally do. You are beautiful and don’t forget it. You are lucky; there are plenty of transgendered folk who feel exactly the way you do but look like men in frocks. Those are the ones who have it tough.’

I wiped my eyes carefully with a tissue. I could see the advantages of waterproof mascara and vowed to get some as soon as possible.

‘How do you know all this,’ I sniffed.

‘Remember, I used to be a nurse before my two angels came along. Still am really; as soon as they go to school, I’m going back to work, part time.’

‘What has that got to do with it?’

‘I worked in A&E and saw all sorts there, including transgendered folk who had been in trouble or at the wrong end of an argument. That doesn’t include the surprising number of men who wear panties and stockings and other girlie stuff under their men’s clothes; mind you that may be a sexual thing but maybe not. I don’t like to judge about these things.’

I began to relax a bit as we chatted about my dressing and how I wanted to be myself. We got on to the subject of how far I wanted to go.

‘So, have you decided if you want to go all the way?’ she asked.

‘I think I do, but I’m not sure yet. It’s a big commitment and change of life. In myself I’ve always been a girl, but I want time to be sure of making the right decision.’

‘Well, you are fifteen now, nearly sixteen you have to make a choice soon otherwise when your voice breaks properly and you start sprouting hair and muscles, it will be all the harder.’

I looked at Josie, her face full of concern and yes, love for me. I had to tell her, it was only fair.

‘I…I’m taking some pills.’

‘What pills?’

‘Pills to stop me from puberty.’ I said softly.

She sat up straighter and looked at me closely.

‘I didn’t know you were under the doctor for this already. Does your mum know?’

‘Erm–no, I mean I’m not under the doctor for it. I did see him about a year ago and I said that I thought I was a girl and he said that I was being silly and it was all fantasy and probably some sort of sexual hang up. He said I would grow out–out of it.’

The damn broke again and I began to cry. I was finding that I was crying a lot lately.

I found myself in Josie’s arms again as I sobbed out my confession about getting the pills from the internet and taking them secretly.

After things quietened down a bit and I had wiped my eyes and blown my nose, Josie made us a cup of tea and we carried on talking.

‘So you bought the pills off the internet. I can understand how you felt after seeing that idiot of a doctor, Susan, but it’s so dangerous to do what you’ve done. There could be harmful things in those pills. You need to be under a specialist who can help you, not just go to some faceless person who can sell you stuff that at the least might just be chalk or at worse dodgy drugs that could make you very ill. You can see that can’t you?’

I nodded.

‘But I mustn’t start turning into a man. I didn’t know what else to do.’

She looked at me, compassion in her eyes.

‘Can I see the pills?’

I reluctantly nodded and got up. Going into the bedroom, I went over to the bedside table and got the bottle of pills. Josie followed me in and after I handed them over, she opened the bottle and shook a couple out of pills into her hand.

‘Well I don’t know if they are okay or not. But you can’t take a chance with your health. May I keep them? I’ll go and see one of the doctors in the hospital where I worked who has some experience with this sort of thing. He’s not a specialist but he knows a little.’

I nodded. I had no choice really.

‘What I think we need to do is find a doctor who isn’t brain dead and has experience with transgender issues. I’ll find out a bit more and talk to you tomorrow. Don’t worry, we’ll sort something out, you aren’t alone. You have me and Jeff–and your mum will support you all the way if I know her.’

I began feeling slightly better and just left it at that. I felt as if a weight was lifted from my shoulders–I wasn’t alone anymore. I had people who loved me and were willing to look after my interests and that was so nice and reassuring.

‘Now,’ Josie continued, ‘to more practical matters; what are you doing about the shoe situation…?’

We were deep into a conversation about what colour goes with pink and should I paint my toenails when there was a knock on the door. I had completely forgotten about Jeff!

‘I’ll go and change–’

‘Don’t be silly, he’ll have to see you some time like this. Just sit there and I’ll answer the door; and don’t worry, he won’t eat you–he had a big tea!’

I giggled nervously as she went to the door. I tried pulling down the hem of my dress a bit further, but it didn’t seem to help much. As she opened the door, she turned round and winked at me.

Standing there was Jeff looking rather apprehensive.

‘Is it okay to come in or do I have to go back to the pub?’

‘No, come in silly. I want you to meet someone.’

Josie stepped aside as Jeff walked in. He stopped dead when he saw me. A puzzled frown appeared on his face as he sort of looked closer at me. I felt a bit like a piece of meat on the deli counter and then he spoke.

‘Mark, is that you?’

I nodded shyly.

‘Bugger me with a pitchfork!’

Jeff! Your language!’

‘Sorry, honey…Mark.’

‘It’s Susan.’

‘Sorry–erm–sorry, Susan; you startled me.’

‘That’s all right,’ I said, amused in spite of the situation, because his face was a picture.

I stood up and went to him.

‘W…what d’you think?’

‘I think that you…you are very beautiful. I can see why you want to be a girl.’

‘I don’t want to be a girl,’ I said.

‘What d’you mean?’

‘I am a girl.’

‘’Mmm, I can see that, I think. So this is why I had to stand in the pub with total strangers and drink flat coke and stale crisps. I am grown up you know. I could have stayed here and helped or something.’

‘So you would have helped Susan with her dressing and makeup would you. Or perhaps discussed the finer points of colour coordination and whether to wear heels or not?’

‘Well–erm, maybe not that, but I could have made the tea.’

We all laughed at that and the tension–if there had been any–broke. Soon we were talking about my situation and soon Jeff was up to speed about what had happened to me.

‘Josie’s right, you were a right pillock to buy pills from some faceless wonder and hope that they were kosher, but that’s water under the bridge now. We will have to get you some medical help and quick. Mind you, I don’t know how much this is going to affect your football career.’

‘I don’t either. I just want to take it one day at a time and worry about the future when I have to. Maybe I’ll be the first girl to play in the Premier League. They can’t discriminate against your sex as easily as they used to.’

‘True, there’s been a lot of talk about girls in football lately. You might become a trailblazer.’

Josie glanced at her watch.

‘Right, Jeff, we have to go. I promised not to be back too late and I want to see the girls. You’re going to look after the girls’ tomorrow evening.’

‘I am?’

‘Yes, you am.’ She grinned.

‘Why?’

‘You can look after the girls while Susan and I go late night shopping. Oh, by the way, when you and Su–Mark go to his medical tomorrow morning I will be looking after the girls and opening up the café. Susan has a shoe delivery tomorrow and I’ll have to sign for it.’

‘What am I, your slave?’

‘Yup.’

‘Shopping?’ I said.

‘Yes, you need to get a few more clothes and the amount of money that you are going to earn means that you can dress like someone who is serious about clothes.‘

‘Wow,’ I said thinking of all the nice things I could buy.

‘Well, young lady, you need your beauty sleep and it will take a while to take off your makeup and get ready for bed. You will have to get up early so you can prepare for the big day tomorrow. When will you pick up Mark, Jeff?’

‘We have to be there by eleven but we don’t want to take chances. I’d like to get there by ten thirty at the latest, so I’ll pick you up at, say, nine thirty?’

I nodded my head. ‘Okay, thanks for everything–both of you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Josie replied, collecting her coat and then pecking me on the cheek. ‘We’ll have a good old natter tomorrow night and I’ll have a word with that doctor I mentioned. Goodnight, Susan. I think you are very lovely.’

‘Thanks.’ I mumbled.

‘Right, coming, Jeff?’

‘You go down; I just want a word with, erm…Susan.’

‘Okay, don’t be long.’

Josie left, leaving Jeff and I alone.

‘Well, Susan, you are a surprise package. I knew that you dressed up sometimes as a girl, but I didn’t know that you were such a natural. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

He came over and gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek.

‘Night-night, love, and don’t worry about tomorrow. It’ll be okay.’

He turned around and walked out, leaving me open-mouthed.

I went to the window and gave them a quick wave as they drove off into the distance. Pulling the curtains, I decided to have a coke and a Kit Kat. I got the drink and chocolate bar from the fridge and sat down on the sofa.

It had been a strange day, first I’d had to say goodbye to my mum and that had upset me a great deal. The revelation that Jeff and Josie had known about my dressing for years didn’t make me feel much better either.

The meeting with Mr Prentiss had gone well and the money he mentioned was mind-boggling! I was worried about the medical tomorrow, but I couldn’t do much about that. If I failed the medical, I wouldn’t be any worse off than I had been just a few days ago and I would have the benefit of knowing that I was at least talented enough to be picked to join one of the major football clubs in the country, if not the world.

My chat with Josie had been great and I liked the way she supported me and would help me find the medical support I really needed if I wanted to carry on the road to becoming a woman physically. Jeff was a surprise and the kiss just before he left was as surprising as it was welcome. It showed that he too accepted me for who I was and that was so comforting. Now I had three people who loved me for myself, warts and all–my mum, Josie and Jeff. A lot of people in my position had nobody and that’s sad.

I decided to get ready for bed as I had to get up fairly early in the morning. I put the empty can and the Kit Kat wrapper in the waste bin and then went into the bedroom to get ready for bed.

As I pulled down my tights, my legs lost that lovely silky restricted feeling that they gave me. Looking at my toes, I smiled as I recalled the slightly strange conversation that I had had with Josie as to whether or not I should paint my toenails. Thinking about it, it probably wasn’t a good idea. I could just imagine the comments in the dressing room after the match with my toes being bright pink, or God forbid, red! No, I think that I’ll forget that one.

I slipped out of my dress, bra and panties and went into the bathroom naked. It took nearly ten minutes to clean the makeup off my face, but I wanted to be sure that I was completely clear, not wanting any embarrassing questions tomorrow!

I cleaned my teeth, had a wee and then returned to the bedroom and put on my long peach nightie. Brushing my hair, I yawned as I was now feeling quite tired after my momentous day.

I took the time to put my clothes away then checked the front door and turned off the lights, after setting the alarm on my mobile to wake me in good time in the morning.

As I snuggled down in my bed, I wondered how things would go tomorrow. Would I end up being a professional footballer or not? Worrying about it wasn’t going to help, so I just switched off the bedside light and went to sleep.

2


My ’phone woke me in the morning and I nearly threw it across the room as that flaming singing frog got under my skin–again!

Reluctantly, I got up out of my warm bed and stripping off my nightie, I used the toilet and then had a quick shower. I put on some boys’ pants–no panties today, unfortunately–a pair of football shorts, my track suit bottoms and a white T shirt. Then I went into the kitchen and made some coffee. I wasn’t very hungry, feeling a bit sick, but I forced myself to make some toast and then sat down and turned on the TV. As usual, the world was in crisis and the news reader seemed to relish it. To me, it seemed rather obscene that I could be on a very nice contract if I pass my medical when there were loads of people losing their jobs and houses due to the economic crisis. I shook my head and just carried on eating my toast. I had enough to worry about today without carrying the world’s worries on my shoulders too.

I was standing by the window, watching for Jeff’s car, when it came around the corner. I grabbed my coat and sports bag and was downstairs before he had time to pull up.

I locked my front door (I still liked that–my door to my flat) and went to the car.

‘Hi, Jeff.’

‘Hello, Mark, get in; it’s cold out there.’

I got in and we were soon on the way to the training ground.

‘Thanks for taking me, Jeff.’

‘That’s okay; I hope that everything goes well and you pass the medical.’

‘I think I’m okay. My fitness level is improving and I don’t think I have much wrong with me. The only thing I am worried about is the fact that I have been taking those pills. I don’t know whether that will be a problem or not.’

‘Well, we’ll see soon enough.’

Soon we arrived at the training ground and we parked next to a rather flashy looking Merc.

Going into the reception, the girl who was the same one as before, looked up and smiled as we arrived at the desk.

‘Hello,’ she said. ‘It’s Mark, isn’t it?’

I nodded, somewhat shyly.

‘Okay, would you both like to go to the end of the corridor and through the swing doors? You can’t really miss it. It has a big sign on the wall saying medical centre. Go in and someone will be there for you.’

‘Thanks,’ we replied together as we went where she indicated.

Opening the swing doors, the first thing I noticed was the smell–a sort of medical or hospital type smell. Now I’m the world’s worst hypochondriac. Any lump, bump, graze, bruise, cough or sneeze, you name it and I think that I’ve got something dreadful wrong with me. I know you can say that I’m a wimp, but girls are allowed to be wimps, aren’t they?

There was a woman in a nurse’s uniform sitting behind a desk, inputting something on a computer. She looked up and smiled.

‘You must be Mark and you are his dad?’ She said looking at Jeff.

‘That’s right,’ said Jeff. I liked the sound of that–dad, he was better than that slime ball of the step-father that I’d had.

‘Call me Jeff.’

‘Okay, Jeff. Would you like to sit over in the lounge area while I get Mark sorted out. I’ll get you a cuppa in a minute.’

‘Thanks that would be nice. Good luck, Mark,’

I gave him a grimacing sort of smile and followed the nurse, through an entranceway that led to what looked like a treatment room. She went over to a bed and turned to me.

‘Right, please slip all your clothes off including your pants and socks and put on this gown? Sorry, I know it’s a pain but the doctor likes to do things properly. I’ll be back in a mo.’

She left me to it and I reluctantly took off all my clothes and folded them neatly on a chair.

I put on the gown–it was one of those that tied up around the back of the neck and leaves your bottom somewhat exposed–needless to say I hated it. I sat on the bed and tried in vain to cover my rear end but without much success.

Shortly after, the nurse came in.

‘Good, you’re ready. I have to take some blood. You aren’t squeamish, are you?’

I nodded and must have gone slightly pale.

She smiled and shook her head. ‘Don’t worry, you aren’t the only one. You’d be surprised to know that more than one of the strapping footballers here have fainted at the sight of a needle. Right hold out your arm…’

I won’t go into too much detail about the messy bits as I don’t like to dwell on stuff like that. She took about an armful of blood and then waited while I had a wee in a bottle. That took some time as I didn’t really want to go and I have real issues performing that sort of thing in public.

Anyway, after being stuck like a pin cushion, and embarrassed over having to wee in a bottle, the doctor came in. She was about forty, athletic and her roots were showing.

I am bit anti doctors because of my previous experiences but she was okay for a doctor–I suppose.

'Right,' she said, all efficiency, white coat and stethoscope. 'Your blood and urine are being tested as we speak. Now I need you to take your gown off so I can have a good look at you. Don't be shy; I've seen it all before.’

Reluctantly, I took off the gown and put it on the bed.

She listened to my chest, prodded me, poked me, bashed my knees with a rubber hammer and then there was the final nasty, as she shoved her lubricated and rubber gloved finger up my bottom.

'Right,' she said as I recovered from that traumatic experience, 'you can get dressed now, and then go through that door and we’ll do some other tests.' With that, she left me alone to get changed.

As I put on my track suit, I wondered if everything was okay. She didn’t say much to me about the condition of my body or anything. Was that a good sign or bad?

I finished dressing quickly and went to the door she had indicated and found myself in a sort of mini gym with a treadmill, exercise bike and other instruments of torture. Additionally, there was an array of electrical apparatus that wouldn’t look at of place at Cape Canaveral; all dials, screens, computers and stuff like that.

The doctor was standing by the treadmill with the nurse who looked up and smiled at me. I smiled back and wondered whether I should ask her where she got her eye shadow–it was nice. Then remembering what I was here for and that I was supposed to be in Mark mode. I looked at the doctor who was scribbling some notes down. She finished that and then looked up.

‘Ah Mark, can you take your top and trackies off for me?’

I did as I was asked and was soon being plugged into the machines. By that I mean, some sticky pads were put on my chest and a couple on my forehead. Then I was asked to stand on a treadmill and a mask was put over my face; it had a clear tube which was attached to yet another machine. I didn’t like that as it made me conscious of my breathing and was rather claustrophobic.

‘Right, Mark, I want you to walk and run when the treadmill starts. It starts easy and then gets harder. Just do what you can and if it all gets too much, press that big red button in front of you and the treadmill will stop. You’ll be going slowly at first and then fast, there will be uphill bits and downhill bits. Just follow what the treadmill does and you will be okay. Is that clear?’

I nodded and the treadmill started.

I won’t go through all the ins and outs of what that torture machine put me through. At some stages I thought it was easy-peasey and others I thought my lungs would burst and my legs drop off. But I survived somehow and once I had finished, with gasping breath and legs like jelly, I was told to go and have a shower and then meet the doctor, with Jeff in the consulting room.

Thirty minutes later, I was sitting with Jeff in the consulting room, waiting for the doctor. I was explaining all the pain and suffering I had gone through with Jeff, when the doctor came in and sat behind her desk.

She got right down to it.

‘Right Mark, I’ve had all the tests back and the results of the treadmill tests.’

I looked at Jeff and he looked at me. This was it–crunch time.

3

‘Your fitness levels are not too bad, but you need to get your stamina up. You seemed to tire a bit too quickly for my liking, but we’ll get back to that. Physically you are fine. Heart, lungs, liver and kidney are all good, musculature okay but under developed for a boy of your age. I’m a bit surprised that you’re showing no signs of puberty yet, but may mean that you’re a late developer. I’ve seen boys of 17 who have only just had puberty kick in, so I’m not too worried about it. Regarding your blood tests, you’re bit anaemic so I’m going to prescribe some iron tablets. You looked a bit pale when I first saw you and you got out of breath quite quickly on the tests that we did on the treadmill. Do you find you get tired quickly?‘

‘Yes, but I thought that it was the lack of training.’

‘Well that‘s partially true, but a lack of iron can cause it as well. Let’s see how you are after a month of taking the tablets. Right any questions?’

‘’Erm…have I passed?’

‘Passed what?’

‘The–erm–medical?’

‘Of course; you’re small for your age and of a slight build, but there are plenty of footballers are like that… I saw the video of the practice game you had the other day, and you are a rare talent; I think that you’ll do all right. Mind you, when puberty does kick in, you may grow quickly and develop a lot of muscles and they may affect the way you play, but you have a talent and that talent will always show through.’

We all stood up and we shook hands.

‘What happens now?’ asked Jeff.

‘Well, I have emailed the relevant people at the club and you should get a ’phone call about signing your contract quite soon, probably tomorrow via your agent. Anyway, it’s been nice to see you both and, Mark, welcome to your new club.’

After saying our goodbyes we left the medical centre and passed through the reception area. Just as the automatic doors slid open, we heard a voice from behind us.

‘Mark! ‘

We turned and I saw Mike Thomas, the reserve team coach.

‘Hello, Mr. Thomas,’ I said.

‘Hi, Mark, Jeff; I wanted to catch you before you left. I’m glad the medical went well. Look, we have a practice match in about twenty minutes and we are bit short of players… all this flue that’s going around. Do you fancy a game?’

‘Yes please; is that okay, Jeff?’

‘Yes, we’re in no real hurry. I’ll go and get myself a coffee and see you later.’

I followed Mr. Thomas out of reception and was soon in the changing room. It was empty as the other players were out on the pitch warming up. I put on the red strip provided and wondered how they got the right size again at such short notice. I had a strange feeling that they had planned this somehow but never mind that, I was going to play footie!

I had my boots in my bag, I never go anywhere like this without them so at least I didn’t have to play in trainers. I laced up the boots and then left the dressing room–going in the right direction this time. I felt a bit of a Wally last time when I went the wrong way!

I could hear noises from the pitch as I went down the tunnel. I blinked in the strong winter sunshine as I came out on the pitch. There were two teams warming up. Mr. Thomas was standing touchline, shouting instructions to everyone. As soon as he saw me, he stopped and called me over.

‘Right, go and have a quick run up and down the pitch a couple of time and do some stretches. You’ve got five minutes.’

I did as I was told and was soon warm and supple. As I passed several of the players; some of them I recognised from last time; they all said, ‘hi,’ or gave me a wave. I had heard how friendly the club was and how well the players jelled together, but I thought that it was just newspaper hype.

I heard a whistle and everyone went over to the coach.

‘Right, lads, we are a bit short at the moment because of this flue thing. Mark, here, has just had his medical and has passed fit. He will be signing on with us formally later in the week but in the mean time he’s going to play today. Now, as usual, I don’t want any nasty fouls, crunching tackles or anything that might cause injury. We have enough problems now as it is. So it’s just thirty minutes each way and the winners get a bonus in the wage packet…not that you need it, you rich buggers. Now off you go and as I say, keep it clean or you will get me angry and you don’t want that do you?’

‘Yes, boss,’ mumbled a few of the players.

‘I can’t hear you.’

‘YES, BOSS,’ shouted everyone grinning, including me.

This may have been a practice match of just an hour long, but I could tell from the start, just how committed the players were. The game was being played at a frantic pace and I was soon out of puff. Then I realised that I was chasing the ball all over the place and not being very clever. I slowed down a bit and stayed roughly in the zone I wanted to cover. My captain was the Frenchman, Arnold, a great player in his time, but at 38 was coming to his final years. He still had all the skill as a defensive midfielder but lacked the speed that he used to have. I watched him and learned quickly that pace wasn’t everything. He read the ball and knew almost instinctively where he should be all the time.

I tried to emulate him and found that somehow I was playing better and not feeling quite so tired. I stayed in the midfield most of the first half as the blues were constantly attacking and not allowing us to break out much. I managed to wrestle the ball off a blue’s attacker and saw our lone striker put his arm up as he started to jink through a couple of defenders. I quickly kicked the ball up field so that he could get to it before he was off side. Luckily, the ball landed just in front of him and he was able to fire it home at about twenty yards.

I got several claps on the back for that and it gave my confidence a much needed boost.

The half time whistle blew and it was 2—1 to the blues. After a quick drink, we changed ends and were off again. I was more involved now, helping to make a goal and saving the opposition from scoring by clearing a fierce shot off the line.

It was about a minute to go when something happened that changed the game. I can’t remember too much about it at the time and it was sort of instinctive. I saw the video afterwards so I can tell you what happened. The ball was with the opposing keeper and he kicked the ball out. I was standing roughly to the left of the centre circle. The ball came down to me and luckily there wasn’t anyone too close. As the ball fell towards me, I glanced at the goal; the goalie was on the edge of his area. It was a bit windy and the ball sort of swerved slightly as it dipped down towards me.

Sometimes you do things without thinking. If you thought about it, you can fluff it. I didn’t think–I just did it. I put my right leg up and my boot connected with the ball and went up in the air. I spun 360 degrees and as the ball came down again, my boot connected and it went sailing towards the goal. The keeper was still on the edge of the area and when he saw that the ball was going to fly over him, he desperately tried to get back. It was too late; the ball went in just under the bar.

You could hear a pin drop. Everyone was looking at me. I could feel myself go hot in the face and just knew that I had gone as red as a beetroot.

Someone clapped and believe it or not, everyone joined in and then came over to congratulate me, even Mr. Thomas. The game was over and we had won 3-2 and I had the respect of my team mates, which to me was more satisfying than a fluke goal.

With praises ringing in my ears still, I found myself somehow in Jeff’s car on our way home.

‘Well, Mark, what a morning eh?’

‘You said it.’

‘That goal was brilliant.’

‘It was a fluke.’

‘I don’t think so. That was skilful and instinctive but not a fluke.’

‘Anyway, apart from that, I think your team mates and manager were very impressed with you. What with that and your all clear to join the club, it has been a great day for you.’

‘Yes, I keep pinching myself. I don’t know if this is a dream, but if it is I don’t want to wake up from it.’

‘It’s no dream, just enjoy it.’

‘And I’m glad that the medical didn’t come up with anything about those pills.’

‘Well they would hardly be testing you for that, would they?’

‘Maybe not.’

My mobile ’phone went off.

I looked at who was calling me, it said number withheld. I jabbed the ’phone button.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi, Mark, it's John Prentiss.’

Hello, Mr. Prentiss.’

‘John, please. Now look, I’ve had a ’phone call from Melchester. They want you to go to the stadium to sign up on Thursday morning. Can you do that?’

‘Hang on.’

‘Jeff, John wants me to go to Melchester on tomorrow morning to sign up.’

‘Blimey, that was quick! I’ll make sure you can get there.’

‘Are you sure, I can take a bus.’

‘No, I’m enjoying living my fantasy through you. I’ll take you.’

‘Thanks. Hi, John, yes, tomorrow will be fine.’

‘Good, I think I have your email address, I‘ll send you some details. Now another matter; it turns out that Bob Ferris from the Daily Globe was on the training ground and was there when you played today. He’s ferreting about, trying to learn a bit more about you. He was evidently gob smacked at your performance and from what I heard, he had every right to be. If he contacts you or any other media people do, say nothing–just refer them to me, okay? ‘

‘O–okay.’

‘It looks like you’ve been noticed, Mark,and that means we have to be careful about what you say. Right, I’ll be in touch and congratulations. And Mark, I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up being one of the youngest players ever to play in the Premier League, I think that the present youngest was just over 16 when he started but don’t worry about that, we’ll take every day as it comes. Look there’s someone on the other line. I’ll see you tomorrow at the signing.’ The ’phone went dead.

‘Everything all right, Mark? asked Jeff.

We were coming up to the café and I just wanted to be on my own for a bit.

‘Yes, ‘I said softly.

‘Are you sure. You’ve gone a bit pale.’

‘Just a bit tired; it's all happening a bit quickly. I think that I’ll just go up to the flat for a while.’

‘Okay but don’t forget to get those iron tablets. It looks like you need them. I’ll see you later. Oh I forgot you are going shopping tonight. Do you still want to go?’

I thought about it. Perhaps a bit of retail therapy might do me some good and take my mind off other things.

‘Yes, I’ll go.’

‘Okay, Josie will come about six, I think she said that. ’Bye.’

‘ ’Bye Jeff and thanks for everything.’

‘No problem, see you later.’

I got out of the car and let myself into the flat. Taking my coat off, I went over to the fridge for the inevitable coke and then went and sat down on the sofa.

I had a lot of things running through my mind; the medical, my goal in the practice match and now, most of all, the fact now dawning on me that my private life may be exposed and how that might affect my possible transition.

It was fast becoming clear that my life–already complicated, was going to get much more complex over the next weeks and months.

To be continued...

Angel

I hoped that you enjoyed this chapter as I did whilst writing it.

I was never a great footballer, but I had my moments, like when I did a very similar thing to the goal described above. The only difference was, that I was a bit nearer the goal and instead of lobbing it over the keeper, I volleyed it and it went inside the corner post. I thought that it was a fluke, but it couldn’t have been as I did the same thing a month later. If only the talent scouts were there…ah memories…

Please leave comments...thanks

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

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Comments

Mark is going to be in a

Mark is going to be in a real quandry regarding his gender and his football. Are there any women playing now for the big teams in the U.K? Does the U.K. have girl's/women soccer teams at all? I know at the college level here in the U.S.; there was a female place kicker (the person who kicks the point after a touchdown)for a short period. She had come over from soccer (football) when that particular college team needed a kicker.
Just wondering I guess, Janice Lynn

I know that Arsenal and

I know that Arsenal and several other clubs like QPR and Blackburn have women's teams. However, they are nowhere close to what the men's teams are as far as the benefits. But, I can say this, I was a 5'6" goalkeeper in the men's game and good enough to be in the player pool for the national team. Size and that stuff doesn't matter. However, Mark/Susan's forays out into public would probably have to be curtailed a bit, especially with the media angel that could be taking off.
Shannon Johnston

Samirah M. Johnstone

Manchester United

P1000083.jpg Actually I would have to say yes as I know of at least one woman who i met back in 1996 She was a Prison guard at Lovelock in the state of NEV. she told me she played for them before working at the prison and to tell you the truth she looked really good far better than when I played against her on the opposing side she really knew what she was doing out there the men on our team and hers were really surprised

I can just see it

The dreaded reporter camping on marks doorstep and voila he sees mark as susan

Interesting... Enjoyed muchly.

Someone once told me that you brits tended to say half 10 or half 8 or some such, rather than ten thirty (Was in correcting me on my poor attempt at writing English in HG...). Was that incorrect? Or is it more complicated than that?

So, now Mark will have to worry about the Tabloids. Hmmm. Will they think he's got a girl (Susan) up in his room, at his age...

Thanks,
Annette

We do

Just not always. 10:30 could be expressed as : half past ten; half ten; half past (if you know the hour); ten thirty. It varies from person to person and from time to time. No consistency, we Brits :)

If the time involves 25 minute then 25 is often spoken as 'five and twenty' for some reason. May only be older people, don't know about youngsters.

Women's football get almost no media coverage in the UK. Considering that more than half the so-called sports coverage in my daily paper is football related it's slightly surprising. I have no interest in team games or any involving a ball but my sports of cycling and sailing get more column inches than women's football, for which I'm grateful.

Despite my indifference to football I'm still enjoying 'Football Girl'. I can see a big explosion before long. Susan won't be kept down for long - even if she does end up joining the WAGs :)

Geoff

We British or in my case English decendants (hastings 1066)

get the time right eg. sec/min/hr/day/month/year.

Why do the Yanks go sec/min/hr/month/day/year?

The other thing you drive on the wrong side, the left hand side was chosen so your right hand (sword hand) was free and clear to do battle.

Now this probably didn't matter for the last 100 years but with road rage the way it is it's becoming important?

Sorry Susan I digress, I'm enjoying your story immensley whichway will Susan choose or can she have the best of both, I hope so!

I look forward to enjoying your great talent!

LoL
Rita

Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)

LoL
Rita

A lot of oddities in America

erin's picture

Most of the oddities of American usage are actually due to the Brits having changed things in the last two hundred years. :) Like our 16 oz pints, it's older standards that we stayed with while Britain made changes.

But we ended up driving on the right instead of the left because of larger wagons, poorer roads and greater distances. If you have only two or four or six animals pulling a wagon, you sit on the wagon and use your whip hand on the right side of the vehicle because that makes sense. But if you have eight or twelve or twenty animals pulling, you sit on the left wheel animal's back and use your whip hand down the middle of the tree where you can reach both lead animals. This happened in France and America and Napolean imposed France's system on most of Western Europe while America's system spread through the New World via economic forces. Plus the fact that Aztec and Incan roads used a RHT rule, too.

Meanwhile, Britain and the Empire, (plus most of Scandinavia and Japan) except Canada, used the system that made sense for smaller loads, better roads, and better vehicles. And nothing REALLY got standardized until the early 20th Century made motor vehicles common. Logically, Australia should have gone with the American system, but Britain's Imperial grasp hadn't faded enough, yet. :)

At least that's the story I've read in several places. :)

Hugs,
Erin

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

Football Girl?

Make that Lady Susan: Football Woman.
May Your Light Forever Shine

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Unforgettable

terrynaut's picture

Oh poo. I got interrupted when I was reading this. I had all sorts of brill comments and I've forgotten them all. Dang.

One thing I won't forget is this chapter. I love it. I'm happy about how you handled the pills and I love how well Susan has been accepted so far. Now if only she can remember to change her ring tone. *giggle*

The football scenes are great. I like how you snuck in a session.

I'm very much looking forward to see how this all plays out.

Thanks and please keep up the good work.

- Terry

GOAL!

joannebarbarella's picture

This is developing so nicely.The characters of Susan/Mark (note that I put Susan first) and Josie and Jeff are getting more rounded. I really loved the touch when Jeff gave Susan a hug and a kiss after their first meeting. You could expect that from a woman but from a man it shows true acceptance.
I have no idea how you're going to handle the emergence of Susan, Susan, but you already have me cheering for the home team,
Hugs,
Joanne

Football vs. Being a girl -- Hmmmmmmm

Hope Eternal Reigns's picture

Hi Sue,

AnOTHER fine chapter. There is no more to say.

Thank you for permitting me to read your story.

with love,

Hope

with love,

Hope

Once in a while I bare my soul, more often my soles bear me.

Well what does Susan want?

Does Susan want to be er alter ego, and play football and make loads and loads of money, or does she want to be a female that can play. I know here in the states the homophobes still have seperate male and female teams, but no professinal female ball teams...only college. What this country needs is to have professional ball teams, like they did during WWII when there was a professional women's baseball league. Those players are now in the baseball hall of fame.

So Back to my question. What does Susan want out of life. To be a male footballer, or a female who can play football?

This keeps getting interesting chaper by chapter. Thank you for sharing.

Love & hugs,
Barbara

"With confidence and forebearance, we will have the strength to move forward."

"With confidence and forbearance, we will have the strength to move forward."

Love & hugs,
Barbara

"If I have to be this girl in me, Then I have the right to be."

No Professional Teams for Women???

The WNBA seems to be doing okay with help from the NBA. A Women's Professional Soccer league is set to launch this spring.

The amount of money being spent on professional sports around the world will diminish as the world wide depression continues. Perhaps we won't have to hear whining from Beckham how his contract in the US is stifling his ability to play soccer at the highest level. He was on the trash heap and willing to suck marrow from the bone of US fans who just aren't that discriminating. Who knew he still had something in the tank?

Wonderful story. Her goal reminds me of one my daughter made in a U-9 game. She was playing defensive-mid and happened to kick wildly at a ball just inside the midfield strip -- only a micro-second after the midfielder from the other team had tried to advance it downfield. Both had struck the ball as soundly as they could resulting in the ball sailing over the other team's keeper's head. The ball bounced once and came up into the top of the net. This weekend she visited a university and was recruited heavily by the coach to play college ball. I wonder if he knows her "range".

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Depressions and sports

The amount of money being spent on professional sports around the world will diminish as the world wide depression continues.

It seems logical. Maybe not though. I don't know how the Great Depression affected professional sports attendance and salaries, but Hollywood actually experienced something of a boom, at least relatively speaking. When life is hard people want a fantasy to escape to, and will pay a disproportionate chunk of their hard-come-by earnings to get that.

As for women's professional sports, we haven't been able to attend any Storm games yet (the local WNBA franchise here in Seattle) but they get plenty of media coverage and enjoy pretty good support from fans here, and I expect that to only increase now that the Sonics have left town. In fact a local group bought the Storm from the Oklahoma investors who took over the Sonics, to keep them here in town.

Baseball

The average baseball ticket today is around $25. That's no longer cheap entertainment. My guess is the average ticket in the 30's was about .50. Even in adjusted dollars that is quite an increase.

Baseball did suffer in the great depression -- so much so that ballpark owners ran promotions like those run in the minor leagues.

For more about sports and this economic downturn.

http://knowledge.wharton.upenn.edu/articlepdf/2109.pdf?CFID=...

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Sports and Depressions

"I don't know how the Great Depression affected professional sports attendance and salaries, but Hollywood actually experienced something of a boom, at least relatively speaking."

The Great Depression provided one of the best one liners, ever. When asked whether is was proper for a ball player to make more the the President of the U.S. Babe Ruth, who had signed for the then astronomical sum of $85,000, said "Why not? I had a better year!". The much maligned Herbert Hoover was paid $75,000. At least the Sultan of Swat put fans in the seats.

G/R

My big concern...

The anti-puberty drugs seem to be working fine. However, what happens when they get combined with iron tablets--will something go wrong? (I know certain drugs don't go well together, and since one of these is black market and so we don't really know all the ingredients, there seems to be potential danger here).

Football Girl

Many thanks for all the kind comments.

It's nice to be appreciated and I hope that you enjoy future chapters too!

Composite, just to clarify, Susan has agreed to stop taking the pills until Josie is able to find out if they are okay.

Hugs

Sue

the pills

laika's picture

Could the pills just be bogus? Neither harmful nor helpful, and the fact that Mark/Susan hasn't entered puberty has nothing to do with the pills? The chapters I havent got to yet probably say what's in them, but that's my hunch.........
Mom's been wonderful, sounds totally fed up w/ her abuser, THANK GOD! And Jeff & Josie ....... started crying here at the library's internet station when Josie proved so supportive. My own sister ........ hell, nevermind.
~~~hugs, great story, can't wait to get to the rest of it but my hour's about up.///Laika

a funny coincidence

Pamreed's picture

When I read ‘I think that you…you are very beautiful. I can see why you want to be a girl.’ that Jeff said. My first thought was She doesn't want to be a girl she is a girl. Then I read what Susan said my exact thoughts.

That is one of the more difficult things I run into in dealing with people. Getting them to understand that I did not chose to be this way but was always a girl. When I do panels at local high schools, it is one thing I try to get across asasp. The kids seem to grasp it sooner then the adults do. Anyway just wanted to share my AHAH moment!! Susan
I am enjoying this story quite a lot and sense that I will more so as I read more.

Thanks,
Pam

Am I the only one who Caught it?

PattieBFine's picture

Hmm... She went to bed with polished fingers... took the make-up off but not the finger polish.... he still had them painted for the medical?

Football Girl

Thank you for putting into words some of the things I feel. Unfortunately, I am one of those "middle aged" fat guys who will never look good in a skirt, but I, like Mark/Susan, am still a girl trapped in this body. I love this story! Thank you so much!

Wren

USA Soccer VS other countries football

Actually the soccer is getting pretty well organized, Particularly in the PAC NW and Oregon in particular. It's probally more developed on girl's level in lower grades thru hi-school - IE 7th-12th grade & most colleges support it fairly well, prob. ranking right in the Basket Ball and or Volly ball as major sports. Due to USA Olympic Success on the woman's side prob. accounts for this. As far as professional, not much, most prob. head to europe.
The Boys on other hand are lagging usually on all levels but growing in popularity, there's been some surge & a couple of men's leagues have sprung up, but def. way behind most of our professional sports.

I"m not too sure on "CLUB" level on either gender, I'm sort of a sports fanatic, but, if there was much activity, the area I live in likely would be one of those 'hotbeds' and I've not, so take that for what it' worth.
I for one like seeing a match occationaly & 2 or 3 nationally ranked girls college teams play in my area, so, because tickets are fairly easy to come by, I go every so often.

Susan and Foot Ball

All I can say Susan is WOW! What a great story and I am not even a sports fan.

The way you write has brought Mark/Susan to life! :}.

I quite nearly feel like Mark/Susan as I read your wonderful story.

Hugs

Vivien

Susan and Foot Ball

All I can say Susan is WOW! What a great story and I am not even a sports fan.

The way you write has brought Mark/Susan to life! :}.

I quite nearly feel like Mark/Susan as I read your wonderful story.

Hugs

Vivien

Life is getting more complex

Wendy Jean's picture

but in a good way. Sue has opportunities now. It occurs that her former step Dad can mess with her even in prison.