Chapter 13 #2
They were all watching her, waiting for her signal, her example to follow.
Rachel caught her eye, gave her a wink and a tiny mock salute.
Sam adjusted her scrum cap and spat into the grass.
Lucy, the inside centre, bounced on the balls of her feet, already humming with energy.
Even Riley had stopped playing to the crowd and taken up position.
Steady. Present. In control.
That’s what they needed her to be.
“Ready, Hotch?” Kamsi flipped the ball in her hands a few times, readying herself for the kick off. Georgia nodded, her movements jerky, her lungs tight with the usual adrenaline. The whistle sounded, and Kamsi kicked left towards the forwards as planned.
Georgia was there as the Aegis centre caught the ball. Georgia's shoulder made contact with the opposition’s midriff just as her feet touched the ground. This, she could do.
***
Or maybe she couldn’t.
The plan hadn’t just failed on first contact - it had basically imploded.
The Aegis fullback scooped up a loose ball from the floor and ran a wide, looping arc away from the oncoming Westcliffe line.
She took a few steps and kicked the ball high and floating towards the left wing.
Rachel jumped for it but mistimed her leap, the ball skimming the tips of her fingers, bouncing wildly on the grass.
Jess, Riley’s sister and Westcliffe’s hooker, fell on it but the rest of the pod arrived late.
Aegis were there and jackled easily - stealing the ball cleanly, quickly.
The Westcliffe players scrambled back into a flat defensive line as Aegis passed the ball, player to player, fluid and fast.
Their fullback had the ball now and was running right for Riley.
The Aegis player waited until almost the last moment, the ball moving as though she was about to pass.
Riley stepped into the path of the pass, hands out for the interception.
There was clear field ahead of her, green grass and no defenders all the way to the try line.
This was going to be another moment for the legions of thirsty Riley fans, another viral social media clip. For once, Georgia didn’t begrudge Riley the limelight. This interception, and the inevitable try to follow, was exactly what Westcliffe needed.
Except the pass didn’t come. The Aegis fullback faked the pass and jinked right, stepping round Riley like it was nothing. Georgia lunged, but the girl was past her.
Shit.
From the edge of the pitch, Westcliffe’s speedy South African winger, Florence Moyo, chased the Aegis player down the pitch, arms pumping.
Georgia chased too, but she couldn’t move fast enough to catch them.
A metre from the tryline, Florence launched herself into a desperate lunge, braids flying out behind her, but missed the tackle completely.
Aegis dotted it down under the posts with calm precision.
The ref raised his hand. Try awarded. The conversion followed straight through the middle.
Seven-nil. Five minutes in.
Not exactly the dream start to her captaincy. Georgia could barely glance towards the benches where the subs sat, where Maggie and the rest of the coaching team were watching from. She absolutely did not turn to the east stand, or search out her parents’ faces.
Her lungs burned as they trudged back to the halfway line. Not from the run, but from something deeper, tight, and familiar. That old, sour edge of panic she hadn’t tasted in years.
They were falling apart. She was falling apart.
Kamsi launched the ball again. A good kick, landing in space. But the chase was all wrong - too slow, the line staggered. Aegis caught it cleanly on the bounce and were off.
Another phase.
Another.
This couldn’t be allowed to continue. Georgia picked herself up from another ruck. Aegis weren’t a team you wanted to give time and space.
Georgia pushed up from the line, calling for the others to follow, but no-one came with her. She’d overcommitted, and Aegis slipped the ball behind her shoulder into the gap.
Another ten metres lost.
“Rachel! Riley!” she shouted as they fell back into position at the next ruck. “When I say to press, we have to press!”
Rach shot her a look - half apology, half confusion. “You didn’t say press. You just went.”
Georgia opened her mouth to argue but shut it again. Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe she’d thought it, felt it, assumed it, but didn’t communicate.
She was trying to do everything. Cover the fullback’s lane. Direct the pods. Shout the defensive calls. Watch the clock. Her head spun with the checklist of everything a captain was supposed to do, everything she had to do.
She wasn’t playing rugby anymore. She was managing a crisis in real time, and every decision felt like a trap door.
This was why she didn't do distractions. This was why she didn't do love.
The minutes counting down to the half-time whistle were more of the same. Sloppy passes, easy mistakes. They gave away several easy penalties, lost their own lineout.
A second try, a third. Aegis converted both easily.
As they waited behind the posts for the kicker, none of the others would catch her eye as they reached for the water bottles. The mood of the team was plummeting. This was supposed to be their fresh start, the dawn of a new era. And it was just the same as before.
They were down twenty-one to nil.
Georgia took a gulp from the water bottle Rach handed her, squeezing hard to fire the electrolytes into her mouth. Her first match as captain, and she was fucking it up already.
This wasn’t leading.
This was flailing.
She wasn’t thinking about them, how they moved, how they played, how they felt. She was thinking about herself. About how it would look if they lost. About whether Maggie was watching from the sidelines with a clipboard and a red pen.
She swallowed hard. Shook her head. Wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.
Get it together, Hotch.
She looked up at the enormous digital clock at the top of the north stand. Twelve minutes left in the half. The momentum was all against them, and if they went into the break three tries down, heads hanging, the ref might as well blow the final whistle there and then.
“OK lads,” she said, trying to catch the gaze of as many of her teammates as possible. “We’re making the same mistakes we’ve made all season. The pressure’s on, but we don’t have to play like it. Let’s calm it down, keep it steady.”
They were listening to her, their eyes on her again.
In her peripheral, the Aegis kicker started her run up. The ball curved through the air and slotted itself through the middle of the posts.
“We stop the bleeding here. No hero plays.” She cut her gaze to Riley and the little knot of backs surrounding her. “Stick to the pods, keep it tight, keep it in hand. Basic rugby for the next twelve minutes, alright?”
Riley gave her a short, tight nod, and clapped her hands several times. “Come on girls,” she shouted, jumping up and down. “Let’s fucking show them!” She landed and gave Georgia a twisted half-smile. “Steadily. Let’s show them steadily.”
The others laughed, and - just like that - the mood shifted, lifted. There was a spring in their steps as they jogged back down the pitch.
Kamsi kicked the ball and Aegis caught, as before. They passed it out wide, player to player, as before. But this time, the pods were there at every breakdown, putting pressure, slowing Aegis down.
With seven minutes to go, the Aegis fullback - a girl called Chloe that Georgia knew from the England team - made a mistake. Lucy was baring down on her, face set with determination, and Georgia saw the moment of hesitation.
Chloe ran backwards, curving out away from the tackle, and kicked. The ball went sky high - and short. It curved upwards, coming down straight into the waiting arms of Tahlia, Westcliffe’s Kiwi speedster, who kicked into top gear and took off down the touchline.
Georgia was running too, heart pumping, legs burning. Several Aegis players were closing on Tahlia, their intercept lines practiced and sure. She stepped past one, but the second brought her down, at least five metres from the try line.
Shit.
The Aegis player that had tackled Tahlia was already on her feet, bending over to rip the ball from her hands.
Shit.
Georgia ran harder, but she was still too far away. It was going to happen again. Not even ten minutes after her apparently useless pep talk, Aegis were going to breeze right past them again.
Then, out of nowhere, Rachel barrelled into the Aegis player, knocking her off her feet as the rest of the pod arrived. By the time Georgia arrived, the ball was at the scrum half’s feet, ready to be passed.
“Here!” Georgia called, her voice hoarse and breathless. There was a rapidly closing gap in front of her. “Here!”
Somehow, Jen heard her. The ball spiralled up and into her waiting hands.
Her pod were behind her, Sam and Riley already reaching for her shirt to drive her forwards.
Together, they smashed past the Aegis defensive line, crashing to the ground in a heap of limbs and boots, the ball pressed firmly against the grass on the other side of the white line.