More Than a Game | Mason Mount

Eleven

Monday passed in a bit of a blur. After the nice, almost relaxing day at Cobham on Sunday, Frank and Jody held nothing back on Monday. We started with conditioning that made me want to throw up and then went straight into working on the press and passing out from the back. After lunch, we met in the meeting room where we talked through scenario after scenario based on the work our technical team had done on studying Valencia's game. The later slot was spent on the physio table, getting my legs painfully rubbed out. 

Tuesday rolled around too soon for my liking. Frank had named me in the match day squad but I still wasn't expecting a start. Even so, I was a ball of nerves as I arrived at the regular hotel for our team meeting and dinner. Following the rough day on Monday, Frank decided not to have a session in the morning and instead to just have our standard team meeting pre-match. 

I sat between Fran and Emil in the meeting and tried to focus on Frank's words and not the knot in my stomach. In the back of my mind was the thought that I probably wouldn't even start, but that did nothing much to calm me down. Fran was still sulking about the video from the weekend and, according to Annika, the same punditry trio had roasted her after the Liverpool game. She'd been moody and distant since Saturday and, as much as I wanted to chat to her, I'd been trying to keep my distance and let her calm down before I tried again. 

Annika had played me the most recent clip and, much to my surprise, my name had been mentioned, but in the opposite way to Fran's. I had a feeling that she was upset at me for getting praised when she was getting criticized, which was another reason I was being standoffish. Judging by her reaction to the admiration towards Rodri, I definitely didn't want her to be feeling the same towards me. 

We ate a big team dinner after our meeting. Frank was going from table to table chatting to certain people and as he approached the one I was sitting at, all my food almost came back up. He pulled up a chair next to Mason first before moving on to Fran. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he spoke to her quietly, her head cast down. I knew it was just a lack of confidence on her part; one good game and she'd be back on her feet. 

Frank chatted to Kyle for a moment before he was moving his chair next to me. I swallowed back the food in my mouth, wincing at the dryness in my throat, and met the eyes of my manager. 

"Hey, Beck, how's everything going? Hammy okay after Saturday?" 

I nodded. "Yeah, it feels great. Thanks for trusting me with the game, Boss." 

Frank smiled. "Trust me, I'm glad you were up for it. Feeling good for tonight?" 

My stomach lurched. "Uh, yeah. Ready to go if you need me." 

"Well, that's good to hear. Listen, Beck, I know long-term injuries are really tough, but you're dedication hasn't been overlooked, yeah? It's good to have you on your feet again." 

Unsure of what to say, I just nodded. "Thanks, gaffer. Sorry I couldn't be back sooner." 

Frank chuckled and patted me on the back. "There's the Beck we all know and love. Eat up, now. I'll chat to you later." 

My palms were damp as he moved on to the next table. I felt my pulse in my neck as my heart raced at the indicative words Frank had spoken. From across the table, I saw Mason raise an eyebrow before his lips pulled up in a smile. I shrugged modestly, but the small smile on my face could have easily given me away. 

Finished with his rounds, Frank stood up at the front of the room, which instantly hushed down.

"Right, guys, I'm glad I got the chance to chat to some of you. Another big game tonight, as we're all aware, so let's keep the spirits high and put on a good show, yeah?" Emil started the cheering, which lifted the mood in the room considerably. "Okay, starting tonight will be David, Beck, Emil, Annika, Elena; Mase, Rodri, Fran; Abby, Dan and Kyle. We'll be leaving in twenty yeah?" 

Abby nudged me from my side and I could feel Mason's gaze on me once again. My cheeks were heating up big time, but I refused to cause too much of a scene by reacting. Internally, though, I was going crazy. 

 My head didn't stop spinning throughout the journey to Stamford Bridge or during the warm up. If anything, passing the ball with Annika out on the pitch made me feel even more wired up. 

Frank gave us some final words and then Emiliano fired us up in his standard way of just shouting Chelsea, Chelsea over and over again. I took deep breaths as I entered the tunnel, feeling my tensions turn to readiness. My normal position in the line had always been between Annika and Mason – Annika in front of me and Mason at my back. Standing back where I had stood all those months ago sent a chill down my spine. 

"Welcome back, Hart," Mason said quietly behind me. His hands came down on my shoulders and he squeezed them once. 

"Thanks, Mitchell," I whispered back, not even sure he could hear me. Lifting my right hand, I clasped his fingers tightly in response. 

We were walking out a moment later, a small shout coming from Emil at front of the queue. Applause echoed around me as I stepped out onto the pitch for the first time in months. The young mascot at my side must have been waiting for me to release his hand I was gripping it so tightly. 

I savoured the anthem more than I ever had before. With the spine tingling ending still echoing around the Bridge, I was unable to hold back my smile. Our picture was taken, and then I was doing a quick sprint to my position across the field. Mason had the ball in the middle of the pitch, his hands on his hips as she waited for the ref to blow her whistle to start the game. This was it: my first proper start to a football game after more than a year.