Chapter 12 Dina
Dina
‘OK, come on, inside.’ I wave the last of the students into the restaurant and shepherd them towards the chairs that Deen and I set up earlier this morning.
‘Isn’t this that place Jen brought us to the other week?’ Sara asks, wrinkling up her nose as she looks around.
I try not to roll my eyes at that. Of course, the girls don’t remember that it was me and Deen serving them at the restaurant last time they were here.
‘We’re not eating here today.’ After ushering the last of the girls in, I flip the closed sign on the door and shut it behind me. I doubt many people will be filtering in here around this time of the day anyway.
‘Hey.’ Deen appears from the kitchen, holding a giant bowl of popcorn in his hands. ‘I’ve got the popcorn.’
I grin. ‘Great. That means we’re all set.’ Walking to the top of the room, I turn to face the girls, all of them sat in rows. ‘We’re not playing football today.’
‘It would be pretty difficult to play here,’ one of the girls says. I let the comment roll off me.
‘Instead, we’re going to watch a movie.’
As soon as I say that, all of their faces brighten.
‘It’s a movie about football.’
And at that, all of their faces fall again, and a chorus of groans fills the room.
‘I thought it was actually going to be a fun movie.’ Sophie sighs.
I frown. ‘It is going to be a fun movie. It’s one of the things that made me fall in love with football and you guys are going to love it.
Plus, my brother, Deen, made us all popcorn.
’ I indicate to where he’s set the giant bowl down and has set up a little tower of paper cones beside it.
He waves at the girls, who give him an awkward smile.
The prospect of popcorn doesn’t elicit the same excitement that the movie originally did, but at least they don’t look that disappointed anymore.
‘OK. Let’s get started.’ I bend down to where I’ve connected a projector to my laptop and hit the play button on one of my favourite movies of all time: Bend It Like Beckham.
It was one of the first movies I watched as a kid where someone who looked like me was the main character.
I fell in love with it for that, before football ever even came into the equation.
I make my way towards the back of the room and take one of the empty seats.
A few minutes into the movie, Deen joins me, offering me a bowl of popcorn, which I take gratefully.
For once, instead of paying rapt attention to this movie, which I’ve watched so many times that I could probably quote it off the top of my head, I watch the girls’ faces for their reactions.
At first, none of them seem too into the movie, and a few of them are more interested in scrolling through their phones.
But as time passes, they seem to slowly get into it.
It’s not long before they’re laughing at the jokes, rooting for Jess and Joe, and cheering on the football matches on screen.
It’s probably the most engaged that I’ve ever seen this group of girls and I can’t help the triumphant smile on my face.
Deen elbows me in the ribs. ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself. A movie can’t solve all of your problems,’ he whispers.
I elbow him back – a little harder than he did – and smile as he winces.
‘Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing,’ I reassure him, though I’m not sure if I do, or if it’ll work.
But it’s the only thing I have in my arsenal, and it was Deen who advised me to try to reach the girls through my methods.
The only methods I know are what got me excited about football.
By the time the movie is over, a lot of my worries have dissipated.
The girls are way more excited than I’ve ever seen them – they’re practically bouncing in their seats as they discuss the movie.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Jade taking a video for her Instagram followers.
She’s pulled some of other girls in to excitedly talk about the movie.
‘Honestly, guys, I had no idea old movies could be so good,’ Jade says as she records. ‘And that football was actually not the most boring thing ever.’
I have to stop myself from wincing and try to count her comment as a win.
As I wave the girls off to go home for the day, I’m feeling pretty good about my plan. If nothing else, I’ve helped them get to know each other a little bit better.
‘So, you think it worked? They’ll all be star players tomorrow morning?’ Deen asks as I put away all the chairs, and he unhooks my laptop from the projector.
‘If only it were that easy.’ I sigh. ‘But … it’s something. Maybe now they won’t look bored out of their minds when I get them to actually play football.’
The next day at training, the girls show up almost on time. They’re still not dressed the part, but as Deen pointed out, I can’t blame them for that.
‘Can we play a match like Jess and Jules?’ Sophie asks before all the girls have even arrived.
I’m taken aback by the question. I thought the most I could get out of the team this summer was teaching them the basics of football.
But the last thing I want to do is shoot down their excitement – especially when this is the first time I’ve seen them interested at the prospect of playing football.
‘Um, well, we have to make sure we’re ready before we can play any matches,’ I point out diplomatically. ‘And that means practising and getting our team into shape.’
‘And then we can play matches?’ Sophie says. ‘Real matches?’
‘I’ll have to talk to Jen about how that would work, but if we practise hard then—’ I don’t get to finish my sentence, because the girls are already up and splitting themselves into respective teams for a practice match, without any prompting from me.
The next few sessions are the same – the girls show up almost on time, with only some stragglers a few minutes behind.
They’re almost dressed in the correct kit, and they’re ready to jump into the game almost immediately.
A couple of times I have to slow them down so I can explain the rules and put them in the right positions.
Other times, I have to make sure that we warm up properly and do practice drills.
They’re still not a real team, but it’s definitely a start.
And a huge improvement from the first day that I met them.
I can’t help the little glow of pride that I feel in my chest as I watch them practise day after day, knowing that I’m the person who helped them get here.
Well, me, and a little bit of Bend It Like Beckham.
‘So, how’s your mum doing now?’ I ask Jen one evening when she calls to check in on the team.
‘A lot better,’ Jen says, sounding relieved. ‘But … she’s still recovering, and taking things slow.’ Her tone is laced with guilt as she says this, and I quickly rush in to reassure her.
‘It’s OK, take your time, and take care of your mum.
Things with the team are going a lot better.
They have some interest in playing now …
actually, more than some for a few of them.
’ I think about Sophie and Sara, whose rivalry has somehow brought out the best in them on the pitch.
Whether they are playing against each other or with each other, they seem completely dedicated to outdoing one another.
In some ways, they remind me of me and Maya.
But I try to rid myself of that thought as soon as it comes to me – there’s no point in dwelling over Maya, or sparing her even a single thought.
‘I knew you could get through to them,’ Jen says. ‘You were always the most passionate player that I ever coached.’
I try not to beam at that compliment. Coming from Jen, it means all the more.
‘They have been asking about playing real matches, though. I know it’s a pretty informal team, but if we did have them playing matches, it would give them something to work towards.’
‘Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too,’ Jen admits.
‘There are quite a few teams in their age range, and they often play each other during the summer. I could speak to their coaches and arrange matches, but the other teams are a lot more experienced. I worry that playing against them could shatter their confidence. They’re so new to football.
But I’m up here, and you’re the one there. What do you think?’
I chew on my lip, thinking back to today’s session.
They played well, but they are still getting the hang of things.
We haven’t even figured out positions for each of the players yet.
They are a bit all over the place, constantly going offside, and I let it slide half the time because we aren’t playing a real match.
We would have to figure all of that out before we could play an established team.
‘Maybe they need a little more time,’ I say, even though I know the girls would hate me if they knew about this conversation.
They are desperate to play some real matches, instead of just playing each other.
It might not be long before they get bored once more, and I don’t have an entire backlist of football movies to show them to get them inspired again.
‘OK. I trust your judgement,’ Jen says. She has more confidence in me than I feel in myself. ‘And I promise I’ll be back soon. My brother is supposed to come up any day now and then—’
‘Seriously, Jen, don’t worry about it,’ I reassure her. ‘I’m happy to hold the fort for as long as you need me to.’ Especially now that I seem to have finally wrangled the team together to actually play the game.
‘You guys are late,’ I say to Sophie and Asha as they stroll in to practice. While there are always a few girls who are late, Sophie and Asha are two of the players who have been the most enthusiastic about playing since our movie night.
‘Sorry,’ Sophie mumbles softly, shuffling to where I’ve set up cones in order to do some passing drills to warm up.
I shrug it off and instruct them to find partners so they can practise receiving passes, before swapping over.
‘You want to make sure that you receive the ball on the inside of your foot,’ I instruct as I watch them attempt to take the ball and dribble it through the cones.
A few of them fumble, but most of them manage to control the ball just fine.
To my surprise, Sophie and Asha can’t seem to get it right no matter what.
Even Sara jeering on Sophie from the other side of the park does nothing to get her motivation up.
‘OK, what’s wrong?’ I ask, stopping in front of them and looking between Sophie and Asha.
‘Nothing,’ Sophie says, not quite looking at me, but I can see the unshed tears in her eyes.
‘Come on, I know something’s up. You guys have been down since you got to practice. Did you guys have a fight or something or—’
‘We ran into another team on the other side of the park. The Westbrook team,’ Jade interrupts from a few paces away.
I’ve realised that being an Instagram influencer means more than Jade always being on her phone – it means that she’s weirdly attuned to everything that’s going on all the time, and seems to know everybody’s business.
‘And?’ I prompt. By now, all of the girls have stopped playing, and are watching our conversation unfold instead.
‘They were just saying that they’ve seen us practise, and that we’re rubbish.’ Jade shrugs.
A strangely fierce defensiveness rises through me. Westbrook used to be my old team, but these girls are my team now. We may not be winning any championships, but building a team, and skills in football, takes time.
‘You shouldn’t listen to them,’ I say, trying to sound casual, even though inside I’m burning up with rage. ‘I mean, who cares what they say? You don’t even know them, do you?’
‘No …’ Sophie is the one who answers this time, though she doesn’t look like she’s buying my defence. ‘But they’re a proper team. They have matching kit, and they’re really good.’
‘They’ve even played matches against other teams … and won,’ Asha says, sounding dejected. ‘But we don’t even have a team name, and you said we’re not ready to play anyone yet. So they’re right, aren’t they? We are rubbish. We’re not a proper team.’
I’m not sure who I should be angrier at – myself, for not having enough faith in the team, or this other group of girls who have clearly been antagonising my team without any thought.
‘Look, don’t listen to them, they don’t know us or our team,’ I say, but it’s clear from the fallen faces of the girls that they’re unconvinced.
‘Besides, if the name and kit are what’s keeping us from being a “proper” team, that’s easy to fix.
You guys come up with a name, and I’ll sort out the kit. ’
‘Really?’ Jade asks, clearly not believing that it can be that easy. And I’m not really sure what my plan is to figure out kit – I’m not exactly rolling in money since I quit my job – but I will have to figure something out.
‘Yes. Let’s do that now, come up with a name. Not the Lionesses. We can be more imaginative than that,’ I say. ‘And I’ll be … right back.’
I turn away from the girls as they gather in a group, some of their enthusiasm back now as they excitedly discuss ideas for team names.
I’m more interested in this other team, and why they’ve been badmouthing my girls.
It reminds me of being back in school, having to deal with the mean girls, who would whisper about me and Deen, how our uniforms weren’t right and how our books were second-hand.
They didn’t think we belonged in school with them, they thought we were less than them.
And there is no way that I am going to let anyone make my team feel the way I used to when I was younger.
I march over to the other side of the park, my face set into a glare and my mind running through everything that I want to say to this team.
I’ll give them a rundown of what my girls said and demand an apology for their terrible behaviour.
I won’t leave until I have one – it’s the least that my team deserve.
And it’s as I’m running through all of these thoughts that I see her: Maya Alam.