"Hey Vince, fancy a bet on the Chelsea-Spurs game later?" asked Finlay as he was getting changed, "Two-to-one says that Spurs will win."
"Shouldn't you be focusing on the match we've got?" said Number Seven, "Don't want to be getting lobbed again like in training yesterday, do we?"
A few of the players chuckled.
"Don't worry. Only Hoops can lob me, and that's only because I knew that he wanted to impress his fan girls."
"Do you have any money left after all your bad bets?" Vince chipped in as he put on his boots, "Anyway, here's a bet for you. Arm-wrestling. One of Hoops' fan girls against Matthews." He grabbed Tony's arm at the wrist to make his point, "My money's on the girl."
More laughter. Tony tried to ignore it as he put on Trentside Rovers' green and black home shirt. His ear started drifting to the conversation on his right where Louis Coulson was discussing Rovers' future with Dave Bryan.
"Heard that McGowen's broke," said Coulson, "Can't afford to keep us running."
"I'm sure he'll find the money from somewhere," said Bryan.
"Well, we need it, without it this could be the club's last season."
"Couldn't we get a sponsor?"
"If he needs money," Number Ten said, joining the conversation, "He could do worse than betting against Finlay. Easiest money in the world."
"Hey Vince," Dave Bryan shouted across the room as he pulled up his socks over his shinpads, "I hope you aren't planning on using any itching powder today."
"Not itching powder," said Vince, "But I do have something planned, something big."
At that moment, the players went silent as the Gaffer walked in. He stood in his trademark green and black tracksuit, the initials GM in white on his left breast. Legs apart, hands on hips, proudly showing off his beer gut, he prepared to address the team.
"Big game today lads," he said, his booming voice commanding respect from the group of eighteen and nineteen year olds in front of him, "You've done well to get this far. Win today and we're in the group stages of the cup. You know what that means: scouts, and a chance of being seen by one of the big clubs. That's the reason we're all here right?"
He let the question hang in the air.
"Lose today, and your shot at the big-time disappears with it. I expect you all to give 110%, nothing less."
The players' faces looked nervous, as if the jokes and banter of a few minutes previous had happened a lifetime ago. Trentside were expected to win, but there was always an air of tension whenever there was a one-off knockout game like today. George McGowan looked at the boys as he read out the squad list for the match against Kingston Athletic.
"In goal, Finlay Reed. Defence: Gill, Goodwin, Bryan, and Cousins. Midfield..."
Tony Matthews' ears pricked up.
"Coulson and King in the middle, Robinson and Hammond on the wings. Hooper and Bannister up-front"
Tony wasn't in the starting eleven, he tried in vain to hide the disappointment on his face.
"You'll get your chance, don't worry," Coulson told him. But Tony knew that his chances were slowly running out with each game he didn't play. He also knew that Trentside Rovers were his last shot. He had to get in the team soon or he would be finished.
ToBߖM2