Playing the wildcard

Injuries; and a cold, hard frost in the North of the country have ripped the heart out of A bit of skirt.  No game in Blackpool, and I was faced with just two game-worthy midfielders - one of whom hasn’t even started a game for what seems like forever (for no apparent reason). 

I sat in my pyjamas and texted Football Mentor 3 (FM3) about the game being postponed.  We’d already had a long and detailed discussion about playing my wildcard.  His view was that I should hold onto it, me (ever the impatient) had wanted to play it weeks ago.  Now, the time had come.  I had a valid excuse and needed points to stay in contention.  There was no way I was slipping back down the league. I’d come this far.

I had prepared well in advance for this moment, and had my new team scribbled on the back of an envelope under my bed.  

After 15 minutes I’d had no response from FM3 so I decided to call him. It was 9.30am. He answered quite grumpily, muttering something about the Ashes and sleeping on the sofa. The mood in the Bit of skirt camp had been very low after last weekend; which was frankly awful (my lowest ever score – 35).  FM 3 had used the words ‘reeling’ and ‘I don’t know what to say’ but we’d moved on from that and I felt the wildcard would give us both the fresh start that the team needed.

I made my changes and felt a little jolt of excitement as I hit the ‘play wildcard’ button.  There was no going back now.  I resisted the temptation to Sky Plus Soccer Saturday and headed out into the snow.

Fast forward to Sunday night.  A bit of skirt is back on top of the league.  Just. Wrong captaincy choice again though and it just kills me.  If there’s one thing in this game I can’t stand, it’s not getting points that are there for the taking.

Monday night.  Liverpool keep a clean sheet.  The automatic substitutions are put through and I discover that I’m in 2^nd place – 10 points off the lead.

It could have been worse, I think to myself.

Aside from the decision to play the wildcard I’m now faced with a new dilemma.  I’m worried about how I’m being perceived. Too often now my girlfriends are saying things like “I don’t know who you are anymore” and to our male friends “what have you done with Clare?” I don’t want to become a ladette who wears football shirts and tracky bottoms on the weekend (I confess I have a snood but it’s fur and completely different).  And I’m worried that men might be put off talking to me.  Girls just aren’t supposed to be this into football.  

I had a conversation with Football Mentor 1 (FM1) about this the other day.  “It can be a bit off-putting” he revealed, “But you are doing your research so it’s a bit different.”  I knew what he was getting at.  It’s annoying when someone jumps on the bandwagon and then suddenly thinks they are an expert on the topic. Although I think it’s a fantastic game and I am enjoying watching it I don’t claim to know anything about football ––I’ve barely scratched the surface.  It’s my slightly addictive personality that is driving this – that and a desire to win.  “You know why I’m doing this though?”  I said to FM1 as we continued our ladette conversation.  “To win” he correctly replied.  I nodded.  “That’s right”.  He looked a bit scared. 

Still, some men have a different take on it.  FM3 is overjoyed and can’t get enough (except perhaps when I call him after Ashes all-nighters). He thinks my newfound passion is “Ace” and literally wants to shout it from the rooftops.  He is on a mission to convert me into a full blown Coventry fan.  My husband thinks it’s “good for you to have a hobby” but I can tell he gets secretly annoyed when I roll my eyes and correct him when he says things like “Van Der Sar plays for Tottenham right?”

So I’m going underground for a bit (she says as she invites people over to watch the Tottenham V Chelsea game this weekend).   I’ll use this blog as a way of expressing my loving and loathing of football and try and return the balance of my femininity.

“Is it ok to get excited when a goal is scored?”

“Yes” confirmed FM1. 

Thank goodness for that.