He closed the door and walked up the hall. The smell of the Chinese food made him salivate a little. Plate, beer, couch. TV on. He found a match, didn’t know the teams but the skill level was good enough. It would do. He looked over at his desk. The glow of the laptop. Reports. He turned away and back to the football. 1-1. 83 minutes played. One team throwing caution to the wind and pinning the other team back. They threw a long ball into the box. The big centre half stood his ground and the striker bounced off him and landed flat on his back on the turf. The referee pointed to the penalty spot. Fuck’s sake. Players from the defending team surrounded the ref. The camera just caught the grin on the striker’s face as he high fived a few of his teammates.
No doubt Dougie will be on the phone.
Dougie.
“Great to be here, call me Dougie.”
Fuck off Dougie.
The phone started ringing and he laughed.
He turned the phone over so the ringer stopped and went back to the game, just in time to see the keeper stretch to the bottom corner and push the penalty round the post.
