Chapter 32 Dina
Dina
Being back at this football pitch after all these years feels like taking a step back into the past. The place is crawling with people when I arrive.
It’s more packed than it ever was for any of our matches.
A lump forms in my throat as I glance around the crowd, looking for a familiar face.
But everyone starts to blur together. My heart goes into overdrive when I spot a camera crew and reporter by the touchline, already filming the crowd of people.
‘Hey, you OK?’ Deen’s voice brings me back to reality, though the rush of blood in my ears is still a little loud.
‘Why are there so many people here?’ I ask.
Maya had said that there would be more people than anticipated, but I didn’t think the local paper would get this much attention.
And I had no idea that people on the internet would actually be motivated to leave their house and come to watch this match.
I just hope that the girls on the team can handle it.
‘Your team is a viral sensation,’ Deen says enthusiastically. He rubs my back, like he knows I need the reassurance. ‘You going to be OK? You don’t have to talk to the reporters.’
‘Yeah, I know. I won’t.’ I spot Jen, leading the Divas towards the pitch, a frown on her face. She’s clearly as unhappy about the turnout as me. But seeing her, and seeing the team, actually helps put my mind at ease. It reminds me of the real reason why we’re here and why we’re playing this match.
‘I should go and talk to Jen,’ I say, turning to Deen. It’s only then that I see the large cardboard sign that he has tucked under his arm. ‘What’s that?’
‘Oh, this?’ Deen asks, innocently. He grins as he untucks it and flashes it in front of my face. The Divas are number one – they’ll score a home run! it reads in glittery gold bubble letters.
‘You know that a home run is … baseball, right?’
Deen just shrugs, looking at his sign with a proud smile. ‘It gets the job done. I was initially trying to find a rhyme for the Divas, but the best I could come up with was “Go, go the Divas, give them amnesia,” which seemed a bit aggressive.’
I roll my eyes, glad that Deen didn’t go with his first instinct. I would take the baseball reference over amnesia – which doesn’t even rhyme with the Divas, but I don’t have the heart to tell Deen that.
‘I’ll see you after the match, OK?’ I say.
Deen nods, giving me an encouraging pat on my shoulder.
‘I brought some snacks from the restaurant, and I’ll be handing them out to the crowd with your friends and Ma.
’ He nods to a corner of the field, where my friends are talking to Ma, each with multiple tote bags bursting with snacks slung around their arms.
‘Ma came?’ I ask, astonished. We haven’t really talked about football or my coaching since she helped me source t-shirts for the team.
Every time I’ve had dinner at hers, we’ve skirted around the topic, even though it has taken over my life.
Instead, we reminisced about Baba and talked about her thriving garden.
‘Not only did she come, she invited a bunch of Bengali aunties and uncles,’ Deen says. He points to the crowd, where I can see a small gathering of familiar faces. I even spot a smiling Zulaykha with her fiancé, and they wave at me enthusiastically when they spot me.
Deen doesn’t seem as fazed by Ma’s sudden support as me. Maybe because Deen has always been able to read her, in a way that I haven’t.
‘Did she … say anything?’
Deen shakes his head. ‘No. She must have seen it in the papers or something … She just told me that she wanted to come with me, and she asked if your friends were going and when I said I didn’t know, she made us drive to your place to pick them up.
’ Deen must see the worry creasing my brow because he gives me a reassuring smile.
‘It’s good that she’s here, I promise. Now go, and stop worrying so much. ’
I take a deep breath and nod. ‘Thanks. I’ll see you soon.’ I turn away from him and walk towards Jen and the team.
‘Wow, what a turnout, right?’ Jen says, feigning a smile as I approach. She’s clearly just as nervous about all the attention as I am. ‘Who could have predicted this?’
Apparently, Maya, but I don’t say that.
At least the girls seem enthused about the crowd.
‘Do you think they’ll interview us for the news?’ Sara asks, trying to fix her messy ponytail into something more presentable.
‘You can borrow some of my make-up if you want!’ Jade offers enthusiastically, offering her a clear plastic make-up bag that’s full to burst. I intercept it from Jade, frowning at the girls.
‘You know you can’t wear that much make-up while playing football. What you have on already is fine,’ I say firmly. ‘And … you shouldn’t talk to the reporters. It’s not a good idea.’
Sara frowns, deflating a little, but when Jen nods in agreement with me, the girls seem to remember the real reason why they’re here. I hand Jade back her make-up bag and pass around some hair ties for the girls who need them.
I see Maya, leading her team onto the pitch. She gives Jen an enthusiastic smile and greeting, before turning to me with only half the enthusiasm she had for Jen. There’s so much I want to say to Maya but now is not the right time. And I’m not brave enough anyway.
‘Should we get started?’ Maya asks.
‘Yes, we’re ready to go,’ Jen says. She waves to the referee, who starts to get everyone organised.
Westbrook win the toss for kick-off, and Jen, Maya and I move off to the touchline, letting the teams take their positions. With a blow of the referee’s whistle, the match begins.
Despite Westbrook kicking off, Sophie manages to get the ball from them quickly.
She weaves it around a few players from the other team, but just as she’s about to pass it to Sara, she’s tackled.
But Sophie doesn’t just lose the ball, she falls to the floor, and a loud crack reverberates around the entire park.
The whole thing seems to happen in slow motion, and I can see Sophie’s face contort in pain. For a moment, I’m stood frozen. My mind floods with the memory of the practice where I injured myself. How it had ruined everything for me.
‘Dina?’ Maya’s voice pulls me out of my head. She’s suddenly right beside me, studying me. ‘Jen’s calling you.’ She points to the centre of the pitch, where Jen is already standing over Sophie, studying her foot, which definitely looks like it’s sprained.
‘Right, thanks, sorry,’ I mumble, before jogging towards Jen, and trying my best to rid myself of the thoughts of my past.
Sophie looks to be in a lot of pain, but she’s trying to power through it.
‘You OK?’ I ask sympathetically, crouching over her.
‘Yeah, I’m … fine. Maybe I can still play?’ Sophie asks hopefully.
As much as I wish she could, I shake my head. ‘No way, you need to see a doctor,’ I say.
‘I don’t want to miss the match. Can I at least stay and watch?’ Sophie asks. The rest of the team, who have gathered around us too, chime in to allow Sophie to stay.
Jen looks hesitantly from me to Sophie. ‘We really should get you checked out.’
‘I can get checked out after the match. I’ll be OK, promise,’ Sophie says. ‘I can’t just abandon the team, especially since I can’t play. It’s the least I can do.’
I know that if it had been me in Sophie’s place, I would have been making the exact same arguments, so I can’t fault her.
‘OK, fine, but as soon as the match is over, I’m taking you to see a doctor,’ Jen says with a warning in her voice.
Sara and Jade give Sophie encouraging pats on the back, while Jen and I help her over to the touchline, where we sit her down on a bench and make sure that she’s OK before telling our sub to join the game in Sophie’s stead.
The match begins again, but with Sophie’s injury, it seems like all the players have deflated a little. Sophie was by far our best player, and it feels like we’ve lost our only advantage in the game just a few minutes in.
‘They’ll be fine,’ Jen says, obviously noticing the nerves clear as day on my face.
‘Yeah … yeah, they will be,’ I say, though I’m not feeling so sure about that.
I glance over to the reporters, who are still here, taking video footage of the match.
Then my eyes drift across to where Aisha, Thea and Ma are still handing out snacks, while Deen is holding his terrible sign up high.
If Baba were here, he would be there, right beside Deen, cheering on the loudest out of everyone.
When Deen notices me looking, he pastes on a grin and gives me a thumbs-up.
I roll my eyes, a smile finding its way to my lips.
But a burst of applause goes through the crowd, snapping me back to the pitch.
Westbrook have already scored their first goal.
Cheers ring out from the other side of the pitch, with Maya leading the charge, though her heart doesn’t quite seem to be in it.
Her shoulders are tense, and she chews on her lips.
Almost as if she can feel my eyes on her, Maya’s eyes meet mine, sending a bolt of lightning through me. She ducks her head before I can look away. She clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me – not after the last conversation that we had.
The game continues, and after a few more minutes, Westbrook score again.
I can see the faces of the girls on my team getting more and more dejected.
They didn’t play this badly in their last few matches, where they had been enthusiastic, even when the other team were winning.
They’re really taking a beating here, and it’s making dread crawl through my entire body.
This is what I didn’t want to happen, but I have walked them into this situation.
I set up this match because I wanted to beat Maya.
I have let them down, and there’s nothing I can do about it now. I just have to support them and be the coach that I should have been from the start.
‘Come on, Divas, you can do this!’ I cheer, clapping my hands together.