Striker Boy Kicks Out (25 page)

Lombardo was suddenly on fire. He cruised past the Rangers defenders as if they were mannequins, and had three excellent efforts in a blazing seven minute period. Remarkably, however, the match stayed one-nil, thanks to some heroic defending by the Hatton Rangers back four, particularly Emi.

But the head of steam Talorca had built up convinced them they would score again and their assault continued. So instead of seeing action in the Talorca half, Nat found himself back in the Hatton Rangers area, defending with everyone else. He got in a particularly good tackle on Paret that denied the Talorca player a good shooting chance.

Towards the end of the half, Adilson managed to get the ball off Talorca and made a break down the left flank. Nat, Clarke and Jensen hared up the pitch towards the penalty area. Adilson squared the ball to Dennis Jensen in the D. Jensen could have shot, but he stroked it on to Clarke, who rounded Tieras and slipped the ball to Nat.

Nat struck it first time, low and hard. He watched it fly goalwards and his heart leapt. It was going in! He was going to square the game for Rangers! But Bergas, who looked well beaten, lunged for the ball and just managed
to get his right boot to it. His touch pushed it onto the post and off the field for a corner.

I can't believe that didn't go in!

Before Rangers could get the ball to the corner flag, the referee blew for half-time. Fox and Evans were instantly on their feet, shouting at the referee and pointing to their watches. In their minds, there was still a minute of time added on, but he ignored them and motioned for the players to vacate the pitch.

Nat felt a huge burst of deflation over his near miss. But Emi ran over to him and shouted, “That was a brilliant move!”

The mood in the changing room was relatively calm, but everyone had been pushed by the relentlessness of the Talorca attacks. They'd spent a huge part of the first half pinned back in their penalty area in a desperate effort to keep the ball out. Everyone noticed that Nicky Sinclair wasn't around.

“The ref blew too early!” was Fox's opening gambit. His face was lit up with passion and determination. “And that last move was spot on, lads! We have the beating of Talorca within us. More attacking moves like that and we'll score. Yes, they had massive chunks of possession and they're one-nil up. But you defended brilliantly – that goes for the forwards and midfielders as well as our defence. It was a good team effort. In the second half, we'll put the cat among the pigeons and spring at them. Let's shock those Talorca players and their fans! Do you get what I'm saying?”

“Yes, boss!” chorused the players.

Coming out for the second half, Nat and the Rangers players felt much more upbeat, spurred on by Fox's words. The manager had praised both the team's attacking and defending. That was something!

But Fox's plans for Rangers to put their opponents onto the back foot didn't materialise. Talorca came out with a swagger and once again kept the ball to themselves. Their fans loved it, cheering every pass.

Nat looked around. He and the Rangers players were in danger of becoming so frustrated that they'd do anything to get the ball back. The sixty minute mark passed without a single Rangers shot. On sixty-three minutes, Lombardo tried an audacious punt from fifty yards that Dalston had to stretch for. Talorca were starting to mock Rangers and parade their superiority with a palpable arrogance.

The Rangers players were getting wound up, and Nat could feel the tension buzzing inside him. He couldn't stand the stifling way Talorca were running the game. So he decided to do something about it. Luerta was standing near Rangers's right-hand corner flag, so Nat sprinted over, bustled the Talorca player and stole the ball from him. He then flicked the ball through his legs. Luerta pulled Nat's shirt but Nat shoulder-barged him away.

Then he was off. Nat saw the whole pitch in front of him, the long shadows like extended fingers cutting over the turf. Running at pace, but keeping the ball close to him, he took it round Raymond Hilva. Henry Paret came charging forwards to stop him. Nat made as if he was
going to go left, then dropped his shoulder and went right. Paret got a foot to the ball but it wasn't enough to dispossess Nat.

It was then that Nat became aware of Emi, who had run the entire length of the pitch, and was now parallel with him. Emi was steaming into the Talorca box, screaming for the ball, with Alberto Tieras in close proximity. Nat took the ball right to the byeline and hit a beautifully weighted pass straight to Emi.

Emi controlled it on his chest, spun away from Tieras and shot. It was an exquisite piece of skill for a defender.

The ball dipped and crashed past Bergas into the Talorca goal.

Nat was instantly yelling and running towards Emi. The rest of the Rangers players weren't far behind and in a few seconds Emi was completely smothered by teammates.

But then Nat heard the referee's whistle. He turned and saw the ref pointing to his hand for a free kick to Talorca. There was no flag from the nearest assistant referee, but the referee was in no doubt. In his view, Emi had handled the ball. The goal had been disallowed.

The Talorca fans went crazy, celebrating as if they'd just won the game.

Nat was stunned. He'd had a clear view of Emi's excellent trap and shot. The ball hadn't touched his arm or hand at all – not even slightly. As the referee's decision filtered through to the other Rangers players, they turned and pelted towards him. The Talorca fans were still screaming with delight.

“You've got to be joking!” roared Emi at the front of the pack, his face lit up with rage.

“It was a clear goal!” added a seething Nat.

Suddenly Tieras was there. He grabbed Emi's arm and pulled him away from the melee to remonstrate with him.

“No goal!” he shouted in Emi's face.

Emi responded furiously, shoving Tieras in the chest and screaming back, “I didn't touch it with my hand!”

Several other Talorca players now ran to this hotspot like moths to candlelight. The referee was quick to get between the two sets of players, instructing them that it
was a free kick to Talorca because of Emi's ‘handball', and that both teams had to regroup at once. He wasn't going to be having any conversations about the incident. It wasn't a goal – his decision was final. If anyone kept berating him, then he'd yellow or red card them, if necessary.

The Wildman could see there was nothing that could be done to get the referee to alter his stance, so, with great reluctance and a feeling of despair, he shepherded Emi and the rest of the players away from the referee. Nat saw that, as well as the hysteria from the crowd, Tieras and several of the other Talorca players were laughing.

Talk about twisting the knife!

But then the match took a hateful twist. As Emi shook his head in despair and started trudging back up the pitch, a banana hit the touchline nearest to him. Nat stared in shock at the section of the crowd it had been thrown from. And then more bananas came flying onto the touchline, with several landing on the pitch. Within seconds, the same section of Talorca fans started making monkey noises.

Nat was staggered. He'd heard about the abuse black players had endured in the seventies and eighties in England, but he was well aware of the changes that had taken place in recent years. Let's Kick Racism Out of Football and other high profile campaigns had let racists know they had no place in football. There were numbers to text or call if you spotted anyone shouting racist abuse in the stands. Then stewards and the police got to these people very quickly and they were not only booted out
of the stadium, but some were arrested, convicted and banned for life from attending football matches. The Premier League was now largely shorn of these repulsive people, although there were still problems with racist chanting in some of the lower leagues.

But this was Talorca FC – a La Liga One team, a team that regularly played Champions League football across the continent. Nat span round and looked at the nearest huddle of police officers. None of them were making a move towards the fans behind this sickening spectacle.

Emi looked at this section of the stadium with disgust. The Wildman raced over to the referee and pointed out what was happening. The referee blew his whistle and signalled to the Talorca stewards to remove the bananas from the pitch, which they did. Nat could see that when the bananas had been removed the referee was going to wave play on, even though the chanting and noises continued. Rage pumped through Nat's veins and he could see the same fury on Emi's face and on those of his teammates. Nat and Emi sprinted across to the referee to join the Wildman.

“We must play on,” the referee was telling the Wildman. “The problem is over.”

“No it isn't!” shouted Nat. “Just listen!”

The noises were coming from the same small band of supporters, but it was getting louder.

“This is the twenty-first century!” shouted Emi. “We're not standing for it!”

“Too right!” snarled the Wildman. “They go or we do!”

The referee hesitated, unsure what to do.

And then Tieras strolled up, a big grin on his face. “Frightened, are we?” he shouted. “Frightened of a few supporters?”

“It's not about being frightened!” snarled the Wildman, facing up to him. “It's about that scum over there – what they threw and what they're shouting!”

“If you can't take it, you shouldn't be a footballer!” sneered Tieras.

“That's pathetic!” shouted Nat. “They're
your
supporters,
you
should do something about them!”

But Tieras shook his head with contempt. “Play or lose the match!” he snapped.

By this point, the chanting had risen another few decibels, with the police and the referee doing nothing. The Wildman had seen and heard enough.

“We're out of here!” he shouted, gesturing with his arms for his teammates to follow him. They did this to a man, and a moment later, all eleven of them were marching towards the touchline. As they walked, the overwhelming majority of the rest of the Talorca fans and all of the Rangers fans got to their feet and applauded them. It was a rapturous swirl of noise and completely drowned out the chants of the racists.

Thank God those idiots are a tiny minority!

As this crescendo of crowd noise rose, Raymond Hilva, Xavier Bergas, Henry Paret, Nicolas Sorin and Leo Gallant from the Talorca team walked off too.

Ian Fox, Stan Evans and the Talorca manager Velasquez
stood by the touchline, their hands held aloft to applaud all of their players who were striding off the pitch.

The referee, seeing he'd been heavily outvoted by this marching group of players, ran over to consult his assistants. The two of them had a quick consversation with some club officials and senior police officers and a minute later, a large group of policemen in full riot gear appeared and started running towards the offending section of the crowd. Without hesitation, they steamed in, and although they were met by punches and kicks, they took less than three minutes to grab the troublemakers, pull them out of the stand and drag them along the touchline, where they were met by the sounds of tens of thousands of fans booing and heckling them.

Nat looked back to the pitch, where the only players remaining were Tieras and five of his teammates. Tieras's face was filled with utter disgust. Nat could only imagine the confrontation he'd have with his other five colleagues later.

When all of the troublemakers had been led away and the sound of their chanting had completely stopped, the referee blew his whistle for the sixteen protesting players to return to the pitch. As they re-entered the field of play, the applause and cheering rose even louder.

Tieras watched his returning players with contempt, but there were five of them, and he couldn't take them all on in one go. The referee called Tieras and the Wildman over for a drop ball to restart the game. Tieras got his foot in first and whacked it to Paret. Hatton Rangers had less
than half an hour plus time added on to wrest the ball back from Talorca and score. If they didn't act decisively, their first ever chance of winning a trophy would be going straight down the drain.