Do Shinpads Come in Pink? Read online

  For my son, Joe – in a league

  of his own since 1987

  The Team

  Megan “Meggo” Fawcett GOAL

  Petra “Wardy” Ward DEFENCE

  Lucy “Goose” Skidmore DEFENCE

  Dylan “Dyl” or “Psycho 1” McNeil LEFT WING

  Holly “Hols” or “Wonder” Woolcock DEFENCE

  Veronika “Nika” Kozak MIDFIELD

  Jenny-Jane “JJ” or “Hoggy” Bayliss MIDFIELD

  Gemma “Hursty” Hurst MIDFIELD

  Eve “Akky” Akboh STRIKER

  Tabinda “Tabby” or “Tabs” Shah STRIKER/MIDFIELD

  Daisy “Dayz” or “Psycho 2” McNeil RIGHT WING

  Amy “Minto” or “Lil Posh” Minter VARIOUS

  Official name: Parrs Under 11s, also known as the Parsnips

  Ground: Lornton FC, Low Road, Lornton

  Capacity: 500

  Affiliated to: the Nettie Honeyball Women’s League junior division

  Sponsors: Sweet Peas Garden Centre, Mowborough

  Club colours: red and white; red shirts with white sleeves, white shorts, red socks with white trim

  Coach: Hannah Preston

  Assistant coach: Katie Regan

  Star Player

  Amy “Minto” Minter

  Age: 11

  School: St Mary’s Prep but by the time you read this I’ll probably be at St Agatha’s Girls’ High School (Saggies)

  Position in team: see Pre-match Interview

  Likes: magazine competitions, fashion news, parties, hanging out with friends, Spanish food

  Dislikes: freaky-shaped vegetables, gum (and worse) on your shoes, school dinners

  Supports: What? Like a football team? Nooooooooooooooooo.

  Favourite player(s) on team: Gemma Hurst (BFF) Holly Woolcock (BFF #2)

  Best football moment: when Gemma came back to the Parrs.

  Match preparation: Top tip — sun protection (factor 30)

  Have you got a lucky mascot or a ritual you have to do before or after a match? Nope. I leave that kind of things to the jockettes.

  What do you do in your spare time? Plan my interview for Junior Apprentice. Please let it still be airing by the time I’m sixteen. I’ll walk it.

  Favourite book(s): It was Twilight but I’m so over the whole Bella and Edward thing now. Reading Shout, Mizz and Bliss until I decide.

  Favourite band(s): anything from Ella Fitzgerald to Taylor Swift

  Favourite film: The Devil Wears Prada

  Favourite TV programme(s): Junior Apprentice, Glee, Miranda, Project Catwalk

  Pre-match Interview

  Hola, Sweetpeas. My name is Amy Minter and I am the striker-midfield-defender-whatever for the Parrs Under 11s. In other words I’m so useless I don’t have a particular position. What can I say? Some of us were born to hit the crossbar, some of us were born to hit the nail bar.

  I’m here to tell you what happened at the end of the second season. To be honest, there’s only the presentation evening left. I think Megan was terrified I’d mess up if she let me loose on actual football stuff, what with all my heinous girly ways. LOL! But don’t worry. I’m going to prove I can deliver a soccer story that’ll blow all the others out of the changing rooms. Just give me five to brush my hair first, OK? XOXO

  Amy

  B.T.W. I’m presenting my series of unfortunate events to you magazine-stylee. Hope u like…

  1

  Let’s Begin with Some FUN FACTS

  Fact 1: We finished fourth in the league this season. That’s out of ten teams. I think it’s the perfect place. Like, not so high as to be saying “look at me” and not low enough to be shouting for help.

  Fact 2: We won the Nettie Honeyball Cup. Yay! I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that the cup final could be made into a film. Seriously. I’d love to tell you more about it but Megan’s like: “Eve covered the whole thing in her section. It’s yesterday’s news.” Yeah, right! I’ve heard Megan has polished that “yesterday’s news” cup so often people have to wear shades when they pass by.

  Fact 3: Six of the squad will be leaving. They are:

  Gemma Hurst (my BFF, super-talented but modest with it. Keeps things close to her chest)

  Eve Akboh (top striker and fun to be with once you get to know her)

  Holly Woolcock (defender and all-round good egg)

  Lucy Skidmore (defender, cool, calm and collected)

  Nika Kozak (midfield, a sensitive person with really peachy skin)

  Petite Moi (your style correspondent)

  Fact 4: Six of the squad will be staying on:

  Megan Fawcett (captain, focused and organized but maybe a bit obsessed with the whole football thing)

  Petra Ward (defender and Megan’s quiet sidekick. Loyal with a capital L)

  Tabinda Shah (midfield, gorge long black hair and thick eyelashes)

  Daisy and Dylan McNeil (kooky identical twins, hilarious off and on the pitch)

  Jenny-Jane Bayliss (my least fave member of the team. I mean, would it hurt her to crack a smile now and again?)

  F.Y.I. We aren’t leaving because there was a major rift or anything; we just got too old. Too old. All my life I’ve been too young for things: liquid eyeliner, Jimmy Choos, my own Facebook page – the list is endless. To be told I’m too old for something is pretty radical.

  Fact 5: Hannah Preston (22) and Katie Regan (20), our ace coaches, are also leaving. Hannah’s going to teacher-training college and Katie’s backpacking round Oz with her BFF. It’s a blow for girls’ football, is all I can say. That pair ooze inspiration. The fact that I stuck it out as a Parr for two whole seasons when I sucked at football is proof of that.

  Fact 6: There are only twenty-two days to go before the presentation evening. Eek! In case you don’t know, a presentation evening is like a party for footballers. It’s held at the end of the season to celebrate all your achievements, and afterwards, instead of party bags to take home, you get trophies and medals. The outstanding players get bigger trophies and medals such as “Player of the Year”. For players like me who are not to be weighed down by such heavy-duty booty, it’s all about the dancing, the food, the games and the mingling with your mates. This year, with so many of us leaving, a few of us have decided the presentation evening should be bigger and better than ever before and we’ve formed … a committee (see Fact 7).

  Fact 7: The presentation evening committee. I’m on it along with Gemma, Eve and Holly. Our role originally was just to collect money for Hannah and Katie’s presents, but after five seconds it was obvious to me that we couldn’t stop there. No way were we going to simply rock up with a bunch of flowers and a box of Sensations on my watch. Our cool coaches deserve more than that. We’ve got big plans, people. Check out this list of things that need sorting:

  Venue/decoration of

  Catering

  Presents 4 H & K

  Speeches

  Entertainment

  If I tell you each of those main headings has got about twenty sub-headings to go with it, you’ll know where I’m coming from. The pressure is on.

  Tomorrow morning Gemma and I are going to meet Megan’s auntie Mandy, who runs the clubhouse where we’re having the do, to go over the list with her. I can’t wait.

  And that’s the intro, girlfriends. Ready for some drama?

  2

  DID I SAY DRAMA?

  I meant background information. Don’t wanna over-excite you tooooooooooooo soon, do I?

  Let me set the scene for you. I’ll start the day before the meeting with Mandy when Mum picked me up from after-school club. She was frazzled, and late, because some delivery guy had shown up just as she was closing her shop.
It didn’t help that the shop, Tom and Betty’s “cute couture for cute kids” is on the Parade on the far side of town, so it meant she’d hit all the rush-hour traffic. My mum is not good in rush-hour traffic. Anything below thirty miles an hour is not her style. “… Not only that,” she told me, “but it wasn’t even my order. Before I had a chance to say anything, he’d dumped ten boxes of XXL T-shirts on the floor and skedaddled.”

  “Where will you put them?” I asked, fearing the worst. Since Mum converted the ground-floor storeroom into an office, my bedroom (we live in a flat above the shop) seems to have become a magnet for surplus stock. I wouldn’t mind if any of it actually fitted me but I’m way beyond the three- to four-year age range. LOL!

  Mum sighed. “Look behind you.”

  I turned. The back seat was rammed with brown boxes. “I thought there was no point carting them up the stairs only to bring them back down again on Monday when they collect them.”

  “If they collect them,” I said.

  “They’d better!” She laughed. “Let’s get home and have something to eat.”

  That was music to my ears. I was absolutely starving. “Let’s eat at Miro’s. It’ll save you cooking.” Miro’s is the tapas bar only two doors down from Mum’s shop, and Carlos and Rosa, who run it, are so sweet. They’re like the grandparents I never had, only more Spanish.

  “No. We’re eating there tomorrow…”

  “Are we? Since when?”

  “Shane’s taking us.”

  That got my attention. The deal with Mum’s boyfriends is I only meet the serious ones and I hadn’t realized Shane, who she’s been seeing for a couple of months, had been promoted. “OK, give me the deets so I can prepare.”

  “I’m not giving you any ‘deets’. You’ll only start picking faults.”

  “That means you’re hiding stuff. Please tell me he’s not married.”

  “No.”

  “Newly divorced with a really bitter wife?”

  “No.”

  “A single dad with three brats who’ll hate me on sight?”

  “No.”

  “He wears capri shorts even though he’s in his thirties?”

  “No!”

  I relaxed. Those, in order, are my top four worst-case scenarios. Anything else I can handle.

  Two minutes later, we arrived home. Some people find it weird that I live above a shop but I love it. The Parade is opposite the botanical gardens and the views from my bedroom are gorge. Not that I had much viewing time that day. I’d barely stepped out of my school kilt when Gemma called, apologizing like crazy because her dad wouldn’t be able to take us to the clubhouse in the morning. Apparently her big sis, Lizzie, and friends needed a lift to the station. “He says we could reschedule for the afternoon instead?”

  I groaned. “But Mandy only had that slot. She has to get the bar ready for opening from eleven.”

  “Well, what if you get someone to drop you off and we pick you up?”

  “Like who? My mum can’t. Saturday’s her busiest day.”

  “Megan’s dad maybe? Isn’t Megan going anyway because her mum and dad are working?”

  “But I don’t want to go with Megan and her dad. I want to go with you. It was all planned.”

  “What shall we do, then? Leave it until next week?”

  I knew we didn’t have time to postpone. There was way too much to do. “I’ll call Megan.” I sighed and hung up.

  As usual Megan was soooooooooo sweet with me. “I guess Dad could pick you up,” she grunted after I’d explained. “Though we weren’t planning on setting off that early. We’ll be picking Petra up too.”

  “Fine.”

  “I still don’t get why you need to look round. You’ve seen the place a million times.”

  “Not as project manager I haven’t.”

  “Project manager? Oh, give me a break.”

  I didn’t say anything. I was trying not to let her attitude get to me. Never once has she said “Thanks for doing this, Amy. I really appreciate all the hours you’ve put into organizing the presentation evening,” or: “That’s a good idea, Amy.”

  “Will you need a lift back?” she asked. When I told her I was OK because Gemma’s dad was picking me up, her whole attitude changed. “What time? Will Gemma hang around for a while? Do you think she’d have a kick-about?”

  “I doubt it,” I said, thinking we’d need to get straight back.

  Monotone Meg returned instantly. “Oh,” she said. “See you at half-nine, then.”

  I said thank you and hung up, trying not to reel from all that enthusiasm.

  3

  Fall Out in the Function Room

  Next morning, Mandy Leggitt was waiting for us in the clubhouse lounge. She was dressed in jeans and a washed-out sweatshirt with the name of a beer company flashed all over it, and immediately launched into an incomprehensible conversation with Megan and Megan’s dad about something called play-offs.

  They banged on about them for at least five minutes. Petra listened politely but I was like, Hello, I hope this isn’t eating into my consultation period. Luckily, Auntie M. caught my eye. “I see someone’s come prepared,” she said, smiling at my clipboard with its tape measure attachment.

  Finally! “I was hoping we could start by checking the dimensions of the stage area,” I said.

  For some reason she found that amusing. “Stage area’s a bit of a grand title for it but feel free. You know your way, don’t you?”

  This was puzzling. “Aren’t you coming too? I’ve got a lot of questions I need to ask.” Forty-seven, to be precise.

  “Me? Oh no, m’duck. I’ve got the bar to get ready. I’ll leave you with our Megs; she’s the boss today.” She winked at her niece. Why did I get the impression I wasn’t being taken seriously?

  I followed Megan and Petra upstairs. “Here you go. Knock yourself out,” Megan said as she pushed open the double doors to the function room.

  I can describe it to you in two words. Beyond dismal. Bringing a funky feel to this place was going to be a real challenge. “We’ll be able to rearrange the tables on the night, won’t we?” I asked.

  Megan shrugged. “I suppose so. Why?”

  “To give more space for the entertainment.”

  “What entertainment?”

  I hesitated at first, not sure how much the committee would want me to give away just yet but then I thought, Why not? I knew Megan and Petra wouldn’t tell Hannah and Katie. “We’ve got this amazing dance act from Eve’s church called the Jump-leads…”

  Someone behind me snorted. I turned to see JJ standing in the doorway. I should have guessed she’d muscle in at some point. She often meets Megan here on Saturdays.

  She started criticizing immediately. “A dance act? What? In pink sparkly tutus?” she sneered and did what I supposed was meant to be a pirouette.

  I scowled at her. I would not let myself be wound up by that pain today. “Actually no, they’re more—”

  “Wait, Amy, just wait,” Megan interrupted before the words “hip” or “hop” could leave my thwarted little throat. She nodded towards Petra and JJ. “Can you give us a minute?”

  “Thank you so much,” I said after they’d gone. “I don’t mind Petra but JJ just presses all the wrong buttons.”

  Megan ran her hand through her hair. “This is nuts.”

  “Nuts?”

  “Yes. N.U.T.S. Nuts. All this dance act and measuring stuff. Why can’t it be like last year? A few sausages on sticks and everybody having a laugh? You don’t need to complicate it.”

  “Hello? How is this complicated? All you’ll have to do is turn up! Anyway, don’t you want to give Hannah and Katie a big send-off? I know I do.”

  As soon as I said that the temperature plummeted to minus thirty. Megan gave me a cold, hard stare. “I’m going to the field to have a kick-around. Drop the latch when you’re done, OK?” Then she turned and left the room.

  Un-be-lievable. If she felt like this why ha
d she let me come in the first place? Honestly! Just wait until I reported this to the committee on Monday.

  I looked round, thinking I might start measuring up, but the idea of staying in such a miserable dump on my own gave me the heebie-jeebies. Instead I went outside, found a bench and spent the rest of the time checking out fashion goss on my Trendtracker app.

  After what felt like four centuries, Gemma’s dad’s car pulled up. I cannot tell you what a relief that was. Of course, the second Gemma’s foot touched gravel the three amigos were over her like a rash. “Aw, go on, Gem. Just a quick game,” Megan begged.

  “Footy? I thought this was meant to be a business meeting?” Gemma laughed as Petra and JJ tried dragging her onto the pitch. She glanced over her shoulder at me but I just gave a little shrug. Much as I wanted to go home I would never try to stop Gemma playing football. It would be like snatching the microphone away from Taylor Swift. A crime against nature.

  Gemma looked longingly at the goalmouth, then sighed. “I can’t. We’ve got to get back to take the dogs out. Maybe when we come to rehearse the presentation evening we can slip a game in?”

  “Rehearse?” Megan asked.

  “The Jump-leads…”

  “Oh, that’s not happening. Megan thinks a dance act will complicate things,” I explained, trying not to sound miffed, and failing.

  Megan dug her hands into her jeans pocket. “Well, I thought it might but if you think it’s a good idea, Gem, maybe we should go for it…”

  “Yes, let’s,” Petra agreed immediately.

  My heart began pounding faster than a fan’s outside Justin Beiber’s dressing-room door. So that was the score, was it? When I came up with a suggestion it was “taking things too seriously”, but when Gemma said it… Well, that did it. That was the final straw. I’d put up with so much flak since joining the Parrs. The eye-rolling if I didn’t take the game one hundred per cent seriously. The snide comments from Jenny-Jane if I dared to say anything remotely girly. Now this. All my input shoved aside without a second’s thought. Well, fine. They could take their sausages on sticks and shove them up their noses for all I cared.