Chapter Text
Coach Granddad
Running late. Had to drop Phoebe off.
Jamie reads the text and sighs with relief. Running to work today had been all well and good until quite suddenly he really needed to shit. Doubting that he’d make it to the club on time, he decided to use the bathroom in a cafe a couple streets away, ordering some freshly-squeezed green juice after a pointed look from the person behind the counter. Except now he was running late, but it’s fine because so is Roy. And now he has juice.
Coach Granddad
You better have run 5 laps by the time I get there.
Jamie pulls a face at his screen. Like you’d even know.
Coach Granddad
Yes, I’ll know
He startles slightly, glancing around the café as if expecting Roy to be there watching him. He’s not, so Jamie is in the clear for now, but fear of the man has him dashing out the door so fast that he doesn’t see the woman until he’s collided with her. She lets out a startled cry as his juice splashes all down her front and just stares blankly down at the white blouse now covered in green before finally going, “No no no no-”
“Fuck, I am so sorry,” Jamie winces. “I’ll get some serviettes.”
He (more carefully) dashes back into the café to grab a thick wad of serviettes and thrusts them towards the woman who, in turn, shoves the dark green blazer she had hooked over her arm into his hands and says, “Hold this” before grabbing them and dabbing at her top. It seems to dry the material, but it does nothing to remove the green splotches. “Dude,” she groans, “I have a job interview in, like, fifteen minutes!”
“I am so sorry. Wait! I’ve got some spare clothes you can use at work, just ‘round the corner.”
The woman shoots him a dubious look. “Seriously?”
“Yeah! Look, your blazer’s fine, yeah?” he says, holding it up to show her. “’N your trousers are black so ya can’t really see. It’s just the shirt. I’m sure I’ve got summat ya can wear instead, it won’t look that weird.” After a pause, he (somewhat desperately) adds, “Please let me try ‘n fix this.”
“Fine,” she sighs. “But if this is some ploy to murder me, just know it won’t end well for you.” It’s only then that Jamie registers her accent.
“I don’t doubt that,” he huffs, relieved that the woman’s anger seems to have deflated as she falls into step beside him. “You an Aussie?”
“Yup. Just landed a few days ago.”
“Ah. Well, I promise we’re not all useless twats… ’s just me.”
That gets a snort out of her and he relaxes a little more.
When he directs them towards the door on Nelson Road, the woman slows and stares at him. “You work here?”
He stares back at her for a moment, realising now that the reason she didn’t act weird when she saw him was because she has no idea who he is. He just shrugs and answers, “Yeah.”
“This is where I have my interview.”
“Oh! What for?”
“Physio.”
Ah, he’d forgotten Gail was leaving. He leads her through the building and into the locker room where he goes to his cubby and pulls out his bag of spare clean clothes. He sees her looking around the room and glancing between him and the cubby, eyes widening.
“Ohhh shit. Oh fucking shit, I’m so sorry. You’re one of the players.”
“I am, indeed,” Jamie laughs and nods before offering a hand out. “Jamie Tartt.”
The woman steps forward to shake his hand, ears red. “Maggie. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be daft, ya don’t need to be sorry.”
“Look, ordinarily I’d agree with that, but considering I’m interviewing at this club, I almost definitely should have known that. I only got the call when I landed and I’ve been too busy recovering from jetlag since.”
“Well now ya do,” he shrugs, and finally finds what he was looking for - a white exercise tee. “Here, this should look alright. Your blazer will cover the logo. D’you want a shower?”
Maggie glances at the entry to showers and grimaces. “I’m gonna be honest, I’d rather kill myself than step foot in the same showers that a bunch of sweaty-arse men use all the time.”
Jamie barks out a startled laugh. “They get cleaned! Fair enough, though. Treatment room is just through there if you wanna get changed in there.”
“Dude, how tight do you wear your shirts?” Maggie asks as she steps out, which just so happens to be the same moment that Roy walks into the locker room. “This fits me alarmingly well.”
Roy glances at her, then at Jamie. “Who the fuck is this?”
“Oi, don’t be so rude, ya grumpy old twat,” he chides. “This is Maggie, she’s gonna be our new physio.”
“Uh, dunno about that yet, it’s just an interview.”
“I could make it happen; it’s the least I could do after spillin’ juice all over ya.”
“Don’t you dare,” she replies sharply. “I get this job off my own merit or not at all.”
“Alright!” he quickly says, holding up his hands up, then grins. “Best hope they don’t quiz you on the players.”
“Sorry,” Roy grunts to Maggie. “I thought he’d brought you here as a… friend.”
It shouldn’t sting as much as it does, and Jamie can’t keep all the hurt out of his voice when he protests, “Hey, you know I’m not like that anymore, man.”
The coach’s expression softens slightly and gestures to her saying, “She is wearing your shirt.”
Which, okay, fair enough. But then Maggie smirks and chimes in with, “Hang on, so if I were a ‘friend’, that’s how you’d greet me?”
“Yeah! Don’t be so rude, ya prick.”
Roy simply rolls his eyes and Maggie glances down at her watch. “Shit, I should go.” But then she glances at the door and Roy, who’s still standing right in front of it, and hesitates. He remembers suddenly that they are two strange men and she had been vaguely concerned about being murdered.
“D’you wanna stop being fuckin’ weird and lingerin’ in front of the door? You’re blockin’ the exit like a pervert.”
“Sorry,” Roy quickly says, moving out of the way and pinning Jamie with a glare.
“Good luck!” he calls after Maggie who yells “Thanks!” back before disappearing.
“You haven’t run five laps,” is the first thing Roy says when they get out onto the pitch.
“No, coach, I was being all gentlemanly ‘n shit,” Jamie shoots back innocently.
“Cleaning up the mess you made? And since when the fuck do you drink juice?”
“It’s ‘cause I needed to shit.”
He scrunches up his face. “And the juice helps with that?”
“What? No. I thought I was gonna shit me pants and then I saw this café with a bathroom, but I didn’t wanna just do a hit ‘n run, ya know? Figured I should buy somethin’. Didn’t even get to drink any of it before it ended up all over Maggie.” When the man just keeps staring at him, he can’t help but add, “This is your fault, ya know, I was distracted by your text messages when I ran into her.”
An eyebrow raise. “So you weren’t even here when you got them?”
Jamie opens and closes his mouth as he realises the trap he’s just walked himself into. “Shit.”
“Twenty laps. Off you go.”
He sighs and nods. “Yes, coach.”
A week later, the team is getting ready for training when Ted emerges from the coach’s office with Maggie, Roy and Beard following behind.
“Howdy there, fellas. Just want to introduce you all to Maggie; it’s her first day today as our new physio and I trust you all to give her a warm welcome - not only to the club, but also to the country ’cause she’s flown in from Australia not even two weeks ago!”
There’s a chorus of “Hi, Maggie!”s from the team, and when Jamie catches her eye, he gives an encouraging smile, which fades slightly with dread when Zava walks forward until he’s right in front of the woman and he puts a hand on her shoulder.
“Maggie,” he breathes in that annoying voice of his. “Your healing hands… will make magic with our bodies.” Every time Jamie thinks that Zava can’t surprise him anymore with the weird shit he says, he goes and says something even more fucking bizarre.
Maggie’s eyebrows fly up. “That’s definitely not how I’d put it. Anyway,” she redirects her attention to the rest of the team, prompting Zava to step slightly out of the way, “I’m excited to be a part of this club and get to know you all. And, uh, thanks for having me.”
Jamie is one of the last of the team still packing up his gear after training when Roy emerges from the treatment room, his knee now neatly taped up. He looks at the open door and decides to see how Maggie is going, but he’s barely made it two steps when Roy is walking past him and saying, “Keep it in your pants, Tartt.”
“‘S not like that!” he objects, tone defensive, but Roy just ignores him. He scowls at the man’s retreating back and approaches the treatment room, where he finds Maggie wiping down the bed. “Hey,” he greets, leaning against the doorframe, “how was your first day?”
She smiles brightly and gestures for him to take a seat. “Quiet. But that’s always a good thing in my job. Do you need anything?”
“No, jus’ came to check in. And also say sorry for Zava this morning - don’t mind him, he’s…. fuckin’ weird.”
Maggie laughs and nods. “Yeah, that was the immediate impression that I got. But I’ve been around plenty like him before - people that get so famous they clearly never get told to shut the fuck up.” Jamie lets out a loud snort and she grimaces. “Sorry, that was super unprofessional. I’m a bit out of sorts and-”
“Don’t worry, I can’t stand the guy,” he shrugs. “Honestly, I’m probably one those people too. Well, used to be anyway. Dunno if I’d find Zava more or less annoyin’ if I were still like that. Mind you, if it weren’t for him, Roy wouldn’t be givin’ me extra trainin’ so gotta be grateful for that, I guess.”
“How did that come about?”
“Ehm, well, ya see I was sulkin’ ‘bout not being the best player on the team anymore ‘n so Roy offered to train me so I could be.”
“What does that involve?”
“Four A.M. starts pretty much every day to fit in an extra workout, which usually means me doing somethin’ mad ‘til I puke.”
Maggie’s eyes widen. “That seems extreme. Are you… coping with it okay?”
“’Course, I am,” he says indignantly. “You think I can’t handle it?”
“I just think that’s an insane way for anyone to train. Your body needs rest.”
“I’m fine, doc, I swear,” he laughs. “How are you settlin’ in? To England, I mean.”
“It’s going alright. Bit of an adjustment, but most things aren’t that much different here. Other than the fact that all my friends are across the other side of the world,” she adds, and although she says it with a laugh, it falls a bit flat.
Jamie looks at her for a moment then shakes his head. “Not all of ’em. Give us your phone.” Despite the confused expression on her face, she hands over her phone and Jamie adds in his phone number and hands it back. “There you go. You got one right here.”
Maggie opens and closes her mouth a couple times before giving a soft smile. “Thanks Jamie.”
“Don’t go spreadin’ my number ‘round though, yeah? Some people would pay good money for a star footballer’s phone number,” he says with a playful smirk.
“Well, I hadn’t thought about it, but now that you’d given me the idea…”
He scrunches his face into a pout. “Walked myself right into that one, didn’t I?”
“Sure did. You did remind me, though, that’s probably gonna be the hardest adjustment - calling you ‘footballers’. We call it soccer in Australia; our football is something different.”
“Ugh, you’re basically a yank.”
Maggie’s mouth drops open in offence. “That is the rudest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Okay fine, you’re not that bad,” he grins. “Is your football like American football?”
“Nah, AFL is way better. Faster. More violent.”
“Fuckin’ hell, didn’t know Australia was full o’ fuckin’ savages.”
“Well, one less now,” she shoots back, making him snort. “You should watch a game sometime; you’ll see what I mean. I showed Keeley a clip today at lunch and she was flabbergasted.”
“You and Keeley had lunch?”
“Yeah, I met her this morning, and she insisted on taking me out for lunch. That woman is like a ball of sunshine.”
Jamie laughs and nods. “She really is.”
Zava fucking bails on them and they lose to Man City 4-nil. It might not have been such a pitiful loss if Jamie kept his head in the game rather than constantly glancing around the stands, wondering if his dad was there. He certainly hopes not, and he’s glad that he has the man’s number blocked or he’d undoubtedly be getting flooded with abusive calls and texts. As the team sit glumly in the locker room, he briefly finds himself anxious that James Tartt Sr will come stumbling into the room, hurling insults at everyone again.
Then Sam finds the video of Zava announcing his retirement and Jamie grits his teeth. He’s happy the twat’s gone for a number of reasons, but he’s unbelievably shitty at him for just vanishing. He could’ve retired after giving them a bit of fucking notice rather than leaving them high and dry.
“What about Zava?” Sam asks when Ted tries to comfort them. “He quit the team.”
“I mean, technically he retired from the whole sport, which makes it feel a little less personal, yeah? You know, like if, uh, your girlfriend runs off with some dude and it turns out they were soulmates.” When mutters break out amongst the players, he continues, “But look, look, look, look. I hear you, okay? Zava is gone. And you know what? I think it's a good thing.” Which, as predicted, earns protest and confusion from most of the team. “Well, I do,” he insists. “Okay, look. Do I wanna win? Heck yeah. But I also wanna do it with folks that wanna be here. It's not like we could handcuff him to his locker and make him love us.”
“We could have tried,” Dani says, which Jamie would find pretty funny if he weren’t so pissed off.
“Hey, guys. Guys, look. We got a good thing going here. Alright? We didn't need Zava. Yeah?” Ted looks at Jamie as he says it, expression apologetic, and Jamie appreciates the acknowledgement, though it doesn’t bring him nearly as much vindication as he would have expected. “Yeah. All we need to win are the fellas in this room right now. And all you fellas need to do is believe it.”
Then, of course, the Believe poster splits in half and everyone loses their mind.
“Now... Now, hold on,” Ted interrupts the chaos. “Hey, knock it off, okay? We're not doomed. No one is doomed. But Bumbercatch, yes, you're right. It is a sign. I agree. Yeah. Fact is, it's just a sign.” And with that, he takes the sign and rips it up into small pieces. “Alright, guys, listen to me. Belief doesn't just happen 'cause you hang something up on a wall. Alright? It comes from in here.” He points to his heart. “You know? And up here.” His head “Down here.” His stomach. “Only problem is, we all got so much junk floating through us, a lot of time we end up getting in our own way. You know, crap like envy or fear… shame. I don't wanna mess around with that shit anymore. You know what I mean? Do you?”
There’s a chorus of downcast ‘no’s.
“No, me neither. Hell no. Well, you know what I wanna mess around with? The belief that I matter, you know? Regardless of what I do or don't achieve. Or the belief that we all deserve to be loved, whether we've been hurt or maybe we've hurt somebody else.” Jamie ducks his head, pressing his lips together. “Or what about the belief of hope, yeah? That's what I wanna mess with. Believing that things can get better. That I can get better. That we will get better. Oh, man. To believe in yourself. To believe in one another. Man, that's... That's fundamental to being alive. And look. Yo, hey. If you can do that, if each of you can truly do that... can't nobody rip that apart. See y'all Monday?”
“Yes, Coach!”
Jamie meets Roy’s gaze as he stands up and he has a horrible sinking feeling. With Zava gone, is Roy still going to bother training him? He tries to keep his tone casual when Roy walks by and Jamie asks, “Tomorrow at four A.M.?”
He holds his breath, bracing for rejection. Instead, Roy looks at him, says, “Damn fucking right,” and walks past. He exhales, relief bubbling in his chest, happy and content.
His phone buzzes.
Maggie 🫗🐨🦘
Saw Zava’s video
[Image description: Jeremy Clarkson ‘Oh no! Anyway’ meme]
Jamie ⚽
guess who’s back to being top dog? 😏💪
Maggie 🫗🐨🦘
Sam!
Jamie ⚽
you fucking suck
Maggie 🫗🐨🦘
Kiddinggg
Roy still gonna train you or nah?
Jamie ⚽
yeah! was worried he wasn’t but he’s still keen so I’m chuffed about that
Maggie 🫗🐨🦘
Slag
*Slay
Fuck
Jamie ⚽
😮😔
He sniggers and glances up around the locker room at his now-smiling teammates and nods to himself. He’s determined to get this team back on track.
Jamie’s sitting on the treatment bed as Maggie stands behind him, massaging his right shoulder because he may have gone slightly overboard with all the cartwheeling.
“How was Amsterdam?” she asks.
He turns to look at her, confused. “What d’ya mean, ‘how was Amsterdam’? You were there, ya silly goose.”
“For the game, yes,” she rolls her eyes. “I meant, how was your night? I heard you boys had no curfew.”
“Oh, it was brilliant! I mean, Roy insisted on trainin’, but we made the most of it. Ran all around the city showing him the sights ‘n shit because he hadn’t been before. Then he was like… convinced windmills were fake or summat because he’s a fuckin’ idiot so we hired some bikes. But then- and don’t let him know I told ya this, coz he’d kill me -but turns out he didn’t even know how to ride a bike! So, we spent ages teachin’ him and once he was up for it, we rode around and found a real-life proper windmill. It was fuckin’ mint. Properly talked too, which was nice, rather than him just yelling at me like he normally does. Silly prat ended up riding into a ditch and fuckin’ up his bike though, so he had to squeeze on behind me on mine with his arm wrapped around me like a big hairy baby-” Jamie cuts himself off as Maggie’s phone starts buzzing and she glances at the screen.
“Fuck, sorry, this could be important, do you mind if I…?”
“Oh, yeah, sure! Go ahead,” he waves.
“Hey, Noah, what’s up? … Oh, yeah, it’s going really well! I’m at work right now. … Well, I thought maybe it was urgent! … How about I call you back in an hour? Not too late for you? … Okay cool, yeah, I’ll talk to you then. ... I miss you too. Love you, bye!”
Jamie turns his head to look at her and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Boyfriend?”
“Ew, no, I’m a lesbian,” she replies, tucking the phone back into her pocket and sanitising her hands. “That was my brother. He’s… protective. Anyway, before he interrupted, we were talking about your boyfriend.”
Jamie feels his face grow hot. “What? No, shut up. He don’t even like men.”
“But you do?” she asks, moving to stand in front of him, tone curious but still mildly teasing.
He glances down at his lap, fidgeting his hands. Sighs. “Yeah. I’m… bisexual.” He bites his lip, trying to quell the anxiety inside him because she just said she was a lesbian so of course she’s not going to be weird about it. “I, uh, I’ve only ever told one person before - Keeley.”
“Thank you for telling me,” Maggie replies softly. “And sorry for being a dick about it, I wasn’t thinking.”
Jamie shakes his head. “You’re fine. I, uh… I didn’t realise I were being that obvious.”
“You’re not,” she assures him. “At least, not usually. But gushing about your trip to Amsterdam-”
“I weren’t gushin'!” And the woman honest-to-god cackles, prompting him to break out into a bashful smile. “You, uh… you won’t tell anyone, yeah?”
“Of course not.”
He lets a breath and nods. “How was your night in Amsterdam?”
“Well, now I’m embarrassed to say.”
Jamie raises an eyebrow. “That wild, eh?”
“Um, quite the opposite. I… got a bunch of stuff from a bakery and then went back to my hotel room and feasted on pastries while I watched the first two Alvin and the Chipmunks movies.”
“…What?”
“Fuck off, I was tired, okay?”
“Fuckin’ hell, some tourist you are. Next time we travel for a game, you’re stickin’ with me and I am not lettin’ you have such a depressin’ night.”
“It wasn’t depressing; they’re great movies!”
“You can watch movies anywhere, ya numpty!”
Maggie sighs exasperatedly, putting her hands on her hips. “Fine, next time we travel for a game, I’m recruiting you as my travel guide. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.”