Page 34 of Men in Shorts

“We win today and youse lose your chance at promotion,” the Shettleston Star’s obnoxious center-back called to Duncan across the midline. “Can’t wait to see your wee pansy faces covered in tears.” He mimed rubbing his eyes, shaking his mass of dark curls in mock sorrow.

“Shut it, McCurdy,” shouted the Shettleston captain. “You trying to motivate them?” He turned back to Duncan. “Sorry about him, mate.”

“Nae bother,” Duncan lied. Evan and Fergus had taught the Warriors how to tune out the sly taunts from opponents and their fans. Before the Cup quarterfinal, Duncan had always responded in the best way possible, by scoring goals. But these last two weeks he’d responded in the worst way possible, by fouling his opponents until he got a yellow card.

Today he’d control his temper no matter what.

As play began, McCurdy dogged his every step, and Duncan realized with dismay that Shettleston’s biggest dickhead had been assigned to mark him in man-to-man coverage. There’d be no escaping the shaggy brute or his vile words—words that came pouring out whenever Duncan was in earshot and the referee was not.

But Duncan kept moving, tracking his teammates, shifting around the defenders to provide a target for one of his midfielders’ killer passes.

“How about a side bet?” McCurdy said, following him across the midline as Shettleston went on the attack. “We win, you have to suck my cock. You win, yougetto suck my cock.”

“Sounds like I lose no matter what,” Duncan replied, hoping to distract McCurdy. Guys like him always went off their heads when they got a taste of their own banter.

The Star attack was losing momentum as their passing grew sloppier. Duncan went on full alert. Any moment now, the Warriors would create a turnover and a chance for a counterattack. Their wide midfielder Shona Redfield was deceptively fast—and as a woman, usually underestimated.

“That’s your boyfriend over there, aye?” McCurdy murmured over Duncan’s shoulder. “The yin whose throat you put your tongue down?”

Duncan’s steps slowed—only a bit, but enough that the defender caught his reaction.

“Aye, I saw youse kissing,” he added. “Everyone saw. Fuckin’ disgusting, so it is.”

Duncan’s hands clenched, but before he could smash McCurdy’s face, he saw Shona intercept the ball.

Showtime.

“There ought to be a law against?—”

McCurdy’s voice faded as Duncan pivoted, sprang into a full sprint, and left him in the dust. Shona sent a beautiful pass straight to Duncan’s strong foot, then shot ahead in an overlapping run to receive Duncan’s pass near the edge of the Shettleston penalty area. The rest of the Warriors midfielders joined them, and with Colin on the far side, the six of them spread the Star defense with a series of rapid, precise passes.

When Colin sailed in a high, clear cross, Duncan surged forward, muscling aside both center-backs—including McCurdy—and headed the shot past the near post. His foot slipped on the wet grass, but before he hit the ground, he saw the ball bounce off the back of the net.

Roaring in triumph, Duncan rolled to his knees and raised his arms. Before he could take another breath, Colin was upon him.

“YAAAAAAAASSSS!” Colin dragged Duncan to his feet. “Our first goal in three weeks. Ya beauty!”

Shona crashed into them, shouting Duncan’s name. The other Warriors joined the jostling group hug. When they finally dispersed, he stumbled away in a daze, only to see Fergus standing to the side, hands on his hips, looking tired and alone. He met Duncan’s eyes, then offered a faint grimace and a brief thumbs-up. Duncan looked away without acknowledging the feeble gesture.

Trotting back to the center of the pitch for the kickoff, Duncan saw Brodie leaping up and down with Lorna and Paul. Behind them, rainbow flags waved, providing the perfect background of joy and pride. Duncan waved at them, then on impulse, blew Brodie a kiss. The Rainbow Regiment cheered louder.

As well they should, he thought. Warriors had their mojo back.

* * *

“This is dead brilliant!”Brodie sat beside Lorna again after they’d hugged and high-fived the entire Rainbow Regiment. “Why’d you never tell me how amazing this feels?”

“You’d never have believed us,” she said. “Also, it’s not usually this good. Football tends to be long stretches of misery dotted with moments of ecstasy.”

“Kinda like life,” Paul added.

Brodie laughed, his cheeks sore from smiling. From where he’d stood, it seemed Duncan had been in complete control as that scoring play evolved, like he’d anticipated every pass and every run. He’d slithered between those huge defenders—who must have each had five inches and fifty pounds on him—and left them looking small and powerless.

After all these years of hating football, Brodie finallygot it.

He watched as Duncan streaked down the pitch to receive another long pass. “He’s so quick, it’s blinding.”

“Aye, he’s got great pace,” Paul said. “Fantastic ball-handling skills, too.”

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