Soccer Supremo - A Sports Progression Fantasy

’Deals? Yeah. Got the goalie coach in. Kalvin Ward. Good lad. Not as expert as Sticky but he’s got time to learn, right? And his soft skills are top. Sticky likes him and says he’ll grow into it. That’s fine by me. Like that. Oh my God, leave the iPad alone, mate.’

’Whose is it?’ I say, because it’s a woman’s bag on that seat.

’Er, Briggy’s,’ says Max, as he picks Jamie up and carries him across the room to a similar armchair. ’Goalie!’ says Max, and he picks up the soft ball and throws it at Jamie. It bonks him on the head, makes him fall to his arse, and they both laugh.

I ask the question everyone at Chester is desperate to know. ’Is Jamie a goalie, Max?’

Max gives me a withering look. ’He’s 20 months old. He’s a toddler. Can’t he just be? Will you let him be, mate? Yes or no?’

’Yes,’ I say, shrinking.

’When I said goalie, I meant me.’

Max gives Jamie - best position unknown - the ball. The kid stands, kicks it, Max catches it, tosses it back to Jamie. They do this another ten times. I’m not the only one who spots that Max is catching the fucking thing without even looking at it. The kid Emiliano is gawping at the scene. ’Yeah, Kalvin’s a good get.’

’But that’s not it, is it? Why’s Don Pino here?’

’Absolutely no fucking clue,’ says Max, and he seems to be serious.

Don smiles, dangerously. ’I would like Max to sign Emiliano, but he is not interested. Fortunately, it was not a wasted trip because I am learning a lot about curtain rails.’

I look up. The rail is a beautiful, curving metal thing that goes around the bay windows. Large wooden hoops have been pushed to either side, and a nice curtain dangles from the hoops. What’s the problem? Emiliano gives me a mournful look, tugs on the curtain, looks up in shock, and throws his hands up to protect himself from the heavy rod of metal as, in Max’s imagination, it crashes onto someone’s head. Emiliano rolls his eyes.

TexanWrexun

I’m trying to find a client of Don Pino called Emiliano. Get his surname, Dylan!

ManMeat

Nothing about this makes sense, though. Why would Don Pino fly to England on transfer deadline day to offer Best a client he didn’t want? This is the busiest day of the year for every agent. No way is he just watching Max Best babysit!

BrokenGround

I’m still trying to work it out. First we have to calm Max down, then we might be able to get some sense out of him. We’re telling him he doesn’t need to watch Jamie like a hawk and if he falls and hurts his knee Sandra isn’t going to blame him. He says ’Yeah but what if he hits his head? His head is so bumpy already. Seriously, feel his head. How many more smacks can it take?’

Don keeps leaving the room to take calls, ManMeat. He’s busy, all right. But I agree with you. Something big is up. Something really big.

Stoop

You’re always trying to outwit him, Dylan. Just ask him if he’s selling Roberts!

BrokenGround

Well, I tried.

’I suppose you need a superagent here in case you decide to sell Wibbers.’

Max looks pained and repeats what I said. ’I need... a superagent... here... in case I decide... to sell Wibbers... What?’

Inspiration hits me! ’But Max! You promised the Chester fans you’d give them all a big surprise. You haven’t done that, yet.’

’So?’

’So that means there’s gonna be some news this evening, right?’

’I suppose. Who cares, though? It’s not news to me. I know it already. Okay, he’s bored of the blocks, bored of the balls. Music time!’

He presses play on a stereo and the Chicken Dance song emerges. He and Jamie do the moves.

’Come on, Dylan! Come on! Show us what you got!’

I watch them wiggle and cackle. I’ve only been there for five minutes and I’m exhausted and infuriated. ’I’m gonna put the kettle on. Anyone want tea?’

Angel has worked out how to sit down in her dress. With her folds going everywhere and the strange pose she’s in, she looks like she’s on an album cover. ’Ooh, yeah. Some bickies, too?’

JasonRhewl

I’m on Don Pino’s Twitter. He’s announcing deals left, right, and centre. No way is he in a little house in Chester. Sorry, all, but I’m calling BS on this whole thing.

Full marks for imagination, though.

BrokenGround

The dancing has tired Jamie and he’s on the rug quietly pushing a big toy car around.

Max looks shattered, and takes the tea meekly. ’Thanks.’ He stares at nothing.

’Pardon,’ says Emiliano, to Angel. He’s about to make his move! I can’t wait to see this.