The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2287 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I’d given Jacquie instructions for the two little ones and Stella was in the house as well. Julie and Phoebe were working and Sammi was out with some boy she met at the station—Simon said he looked okay, not that there was much we could have done anyway, she’s over eighteen and thus an autonomous adult—in theory at least.

Meems and Livvie sat in my car with our two footballers as we drove off to Havant for the schools’ league matches. There were mixed teams which made me feel better for Danni but worse for Trish. Danni still had a boy’s physique which would change over the coming months, Trish was becoming quite willowy and I didn’t think she’d cope with robust challenges from boys. The rules were supposed to protect the girls and the boys were told not to tackle too hard—however, rules are there to be broken and as St Claire’s was all girls, coming up against a mixed team with more boys than girls was going to be a challenge.

Simon and Tom were coming on in Tom’s Freelander but would be there about twenty minutes after us—we had players and they were expected to be there at least twenty minutes before the kickoff.

The boot of the car was filled with flasks of hot coffee and snacks for the spectators and cold drinks and snacks for the players. I also had a first aid kit just in case. The drive to Havant Middle school was uneventful though I was keyed up enough just worrying about my two playing against boys—though they seemed unaffected.

They were both playing on the same pitch, the junior’s game lasting forty minutes—twenty minutes each half, the middle school teams would play for half an hour per half. It was the first time St Claire’s had competed in the league and to be honest they were expecting to be beaten by the other school. No one had informed my two of this expectation. They had changed into their kit at home and pulled on track suits over it, carrying their boots in separate bags.

By pure coincidence both my girls were playing number seven and what I didn’t appreciate was the sense of humour they’d applied—quite literally. The juniors after a quick pep talk came out onto the field, still clad in tracksuit tops. Trish had tied her hair in two pigtails and came running over to me for a quick hug before handing me her trackie top. Danni was standing next to me and as she ran back to her team, I saw someone had added to the back of her shirt ‘Beckham’ in white adhesive tape. I looked at Danni who smirked. For those not in the know, David Beckham played number seven for Manchester United for a number of years, and the same for England.

The shirt got several laughs and cat calls but as the game got underway, it became obvious that Trish was the danger player in the girl’s team, passing and tackling very well. By the end of the first half, the girls were one nil down and Trish had been knocked off the ball at least four times that the referee had allowed. She wasn’t too impressed and I’m afraid as her mum, neither was I. At one point Simon had to restrain me as I wanted to slap the little toerag who was marking her and the ref for allowing him to get away with it.

I handed round water bottles and orange quarters which the girls took appreciatively. Danni took Trish to one side and they seemed to have quite an animated discussion with Trish nodding at the end of it. The second half began and once again their defender took on ‘Beckham’ dashing in with superior strength and speed. Trish who was in possession of the ball suddenly stopped and trapped the ball and her would be tackler overran her and she ran off up the wing curling the ball across the goal mouth. None of the girls were there to knock it in but the goal keeper kicked at it and sliced it where if fell to the feet of one of the St Claire’s forwards who somehow managed to kick it back at him he fumbled the stop and the score was one apiece.

The girls were ecstatic, high fiving Trish the goal maker. Minutes later the girls had to defend as wave after wave of attacks came from the Havant team, but somehow the girls held out. With just two minutes to go the ball broke for Trish who charged up the touchline again and her marker tried to push her off the ball. Before she’d tried to push back and always lost the contest, this time she grabbed the back of the top of his shorts and pulled them up quite sharply. He suddenly stopped running and she dribbled past the full backs and put it through the legs of the goal keeper having dummied her shot to make it look like she was going to lob it over his head.

The last minute was frantic as Havant ran at them bundling the girls out of the way as they came, Trish ran back after her marker who was passed the ball on her wing, once again as they bumped she grabbed his shorts and he muffed his kick which went into touch. The whistle went and the girls had won against all the odds. However, the action hadn’t quite finished. The angry boy pushed Trish in the back as she walked off the pitch right in front of the referee. She fell forwards and managed to roll as she hit the ground so wasn’t hurt. The boy was booked for an off the ball offence and he would be reported. Sister Maria offered to buy the referee some new glasses but the games teacher calmed her down as they’d won, she didn’t want the applecart upset.

Maria came to stand by us and we had a ten minutes session of griping at the way the boys had been allowed to bully the girls though the girls to give them their due withstood the tactic and still won. Trish came to watch her sister’s game with us and redressed in her tracksuit in the car.

The middle school team took the field and another ‘Beckham’ shirt was visible. I asked Trish why they’d used the same name and it was because he was the most notable number seven.

This game was even more physical than the previous one had been and the referee equally unable to prevent it. At half time, stout defending for most of the half kept the scores level at nil all, thought the Havant side nearly bullied their way into the lead, it took Danni’s sliding tackle to take the ball off the toe of the attacking forward to save the first half. Once again her talent was recognised and she was heavily marked.

In the second half the girls made a sortie into the Havant half and Danni who was on the ball was cut down by one of the boys. The referee awarded a direct free kick which Danni opted to take. “This should be good,” offered Trish. She was right, I now realised why the Beckham shirt—Bend it like Beckham, Keira Knightley’s first film explained what was going to happen. Danni took the kick which curved around the wall of three defenders and entered the goal in the top corner, the keeper didn’t even see it. Sister Maria exclaimed, “Mother of God, did you see that?”

“Yeah, but the keeper didn’t,” sang Trish. No wonder the previous school was sad to lose her, Danni was very good at football.

Havant attacked again and again and Danni waited for the opportunity to counter, each time the girls had a chance they passed the ball her way and each time she took the game back to the opponents who could only stop her by foul means. The next free kick she passed to a team mate and stood just outside the penalty area. The ball was floated into the box and Danni, who isn’t the tallest of girls, let alone boys, ran in and headed it down at the feet of the goal keeper who fluffed it. The girls were two up and beginning to believe they could win.

While Havant became more aggressive in their attacks the final say went to ‘Beckham’ who was chopped down in the penalty area. She took the spot kick and showed the goal keeper up completely pretending to hammer the ball up high she gently placed it right behind him. The girls won three nil and Danni was applauded off the pitch.

“You know, the only kid I ever saw play like that was one from Portsmouth, name of Danny Maiden, only his trade mark was the overhead scissors,” said the referee. “She’s not related is she?” My tummy flipped.