Prose Night on the Writing Life, 15 September 2024

Another sneak peek at The Yank Striker 2.

Photo by Virgil Cayasa on Unsplash

Hi, everyone sorry for the delay. My wife Laura and I now have a new home in our new town of Fort Madison and we’re going to be quite busy with the project for a while.

However, I did want to share a scene or two from my upcoming book, the sequel to my most recent story The Yank Striker: A Footballer’s Beginning. It all began with my love for the sport of soccer and my asking the question “What might the first American soccer superstar look like?” The result was The Yank Striker, and its unique main character, Daniel John “DJ” Ryan.

If you have not been following my newsletters closely, I have had a renewed energy toward completing my first draft of the book in recent weeks. I had placed a soft deadline on myself of having a first draft of what I’m referring to as The Yank Striker 2¹ completed by the end of the year and a full book ready for publication in time for Summer 2025. For a while there, I was unsure I was even doing to meet the first draft deadline, but over the past month, I have now crossed the 50,000-word mark, although at least a few thousand of those words might get cut in later drafts. Right now, I’d rate my chances of getting it done by the end of 2024 to be better than even, perhaps 8/9 or -100 at this point, depending on how you figure out odds².

So, I decided to treat all of you to a special sneak peek of one of the more auspicious scenes in the book - DJ’s debut for the modest East End of London club Donford FC in a small third-round FA Cup match. Hope you enjoy it.

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Hamptonshire Rovers v. Donford FC, Third Round of the FA Cup

[Donford assistant coach] Marcus opened the door, and Jerry led the team out into the player’s tunnel. The starting eleven went first, following Jerry, and they stopped at the entrance to the pitch.

The Donford players lined up on the left side of the tunnel, as the Rovers in their Kelly Green kits were already lined up to the right of the tunnel. It was rough construction, just brick painted over with the same color as the kits and the Rovers’s logo above the doorway.

“Cold enough for you, lads?” said one Rovers player, #8 on his back with AUSTIN above the number. Ryan realized he was talking to him and Lexx. “Imagine it takes getting used to, not like from Texas or Brazil.”

Ryan waved at him with a single gloved hand. “Appreciate it, but we’ll get by, I imagine.” He looked down at the young junior mascot, an apple-cheeked girl of ten with in full Donford kit and a long blond ponytail. “Think we can manage it, kid?” he whispered to her, and the goggle-eyed girl could only nod in response.

Austin nodded as well, and the rest of the players fell quiet again, except for some private utterances between teammates and the clacking of football boot studs on the concrete floor. They might be the home team, but we’re the big Premier League club stomping into town. They’re probably a bit nervous themselves.

It was then [team captain] Jerry, at the head of the Donford line, turned to face his team. “Right, lads,” he called out. “Off we go.” With that, he led the team out of the tunnel and onto the pitch in the misty afternoon.

As much as DJ had prepared himself physically and mentally for this day, he spent the next few minutes in a daze which left his head as unclear as the clammy fog hovering over the field. There were the rituals of lining up on the field, the greetings to the other team in line, the captains’ coin flip and handshakes, and finally posing along with the rest of Donford’s starting eleven for the team photo.

For right now, it was just misting, but DJ started to feel the first couple drops on his back as the team jogged from the sideline to the middle of the field. He could already see the clouds of breath coming from the players, the refs, and the fans in the stands. The latter group were huddled underneath the roofs over the stands, water dribbling off the edges and onto the ground. At least they’re going to keep dry.

DJ got to the edge of the center circle in preparation for Rovers to kick off. He saw Lexx on the other side of the circle, looking down at his feet, as the five-thousand strong Rovers fans were out-singing the game 500 or so Donford fans crammed into part of the west end stand. Lexx looked up for a moment, sent a shy smile his way, and then turned his attention to his feet.

For a moment, he went over his instructions from Blake before the match. No need to complicate things, he’d said. Keep in the center and make sure you’re ready to play off the center backs if you see a ball coming in or try to cut out the keeper or center backs’ passes to midfield. Try to keep near the 18-yard box, but don’t get offside. If you have a shot, take it. And keep an eye out for Lexx.

Then there was a tweet, and #10 for Rovers, Chalobah, tapped the ball from the center spot to Austin. Time to get on it.

For the first four or five minutes, he was concentrating enough on keeping his footing on the pitch. The individual raindrops were becoming more frequent and the turf was increasingly slick, although it was in good condition other than a bit muddy and threadbare regarding grass within the penalty areas. He was handling it all right – there had been some fall games in Texas where it had gotten this wet, but those were uncommon. DJ tested each step, judged how much his step shifted with every planted foot. By about six minutes in, he was secure in his footing, even though the rain was coming steadily by then.

By then, he was making a note of both Donford and Rovers’ tactics. With Davis giving reminders and occasional pocket pep talks on the field, Eddie Stuart, #6, was helping direct Donford’s progress. Usually, Eddie would be the player right in front of the defenders cutting off an opponent’s pass or making a last-minute tackle before they could make it to Donford’s penalty area. But today, Eddie was taking the ball and making sure to distribute it to the midfielders and their attacking midfielder, #10, Duka. In this case, he was a deep-lying playmaker, choosing to distribute the ball wherever there was open space on the pitch.

They don’t have the athleticism among their defenders to keep up with you, [Donford head coach] Blake had said in the days before the game. They’ll try to defend zones, but they won’t risk trying to chase you down and losing you.

The Rovers were two lines of men deep in their half of the field, keeping the ball in front of them, but they were thus allowing Donford to pass and move the ball at will in front of them. Ryan was still learning about tactics and how other people played; it was tough for him to even get a handle on his role on the field, much less others. Still, he was trying to absorb everything he could as fast as possible.

There were two passes between Lexx and Duka and then Duka slid the ball just ahead of DJ as he had begun a run toward the penalty area and the back four Rovers’ defenders. He marveled at how it just arrived inches in front of his leading foot and he only had to kiss the ball with the inside of his right foot to tame it and let it roll beside him. There seemed to only be one defender between him and the goalkeeper…

With a huff a green blur collided with him from the left, swatting the ball away with one foot and swiping his left leg from under him. The defender, #23 BENNINGTON, slid through the dew and the mud as DJ toppled to the ground with a thud on his side.

Bennington jumped up with a hop even as the referee called for a free kick. “Welcome to England, Yank,” he chirped as he backed away.

“Obliged,” DJ drawled as he rolled over on his back. As Lexx and #7 for Donford, Richard, stood over him and asked if everything was all right, he held up both hands in the air. After a few seconds, they got the idea and both helped him up.

“All right?” Lexx said.

“The boys just saying hello, looks like,” DJ said with a nod. “Shame for me to waste that ball in.”

“There’ll be more to come,” Richard replied with a small grin. “Make sure you can do something with it.”

“Hell yeah.”

DJ crept closer to the penalty area, watching the Rovers trying to ping-pong the ball between the back two lines, attempting to keep the ball away from them. Even DJ sensed the hesitation in their moves, their touches on the ball.

So, when he saw one of the Rover fullbacks nudge the ball back to #23, he saw it before the center back did. It took two strides before Bennington knew what was going on, and two more before DJ slid across the pitch and poked it away before the charging Rover got within a foot of it. Bennington went flying through the air to avoid his legs getting taken from under him and somersaulted with a thud onto the pitch.

DJ was up before the ball had rolled over the sideline. “Thanks for the welcome.”

The Rovers took the throw-in, but DJ managed to not only win the ball but nudge it back to Stuart. After a one-two pass between him and Richard, Stuart pushed the ball across the pitch toward Lexx, who had drifted off to the left wing and only had a fullback covering him.

The ball took a quick hop to the right and Lexx ditched the fullback by cutting in on the right and speeding toward the center. As DJ started to make his own run to the penalty area, Lexx saw another center back approach, took a long step with his left foot and with his right tucked the ball behind him and to the left, leaving the other man in the dust.  

Lexx is left-footed, he thought, so if he’s headed out to the left, maybe he’s trying to get a cross in from the left, because he’s not going to get a shot off there…

Just as DJ got into the box and headed toward the goal area, Lexx juked one more time toward the center and launched a rising right-footed shot toward goal. It coasted over the outstretched arm of the keeper who had positioned himself at the near post of the goal and slid into the top corner of the far post and crossbar.

As the far corner of Donford fans erupted, DJ hopped up in the air and was the first player to hug Lexx. “Thought you were left-footed.”

“Took your advice to use my right more,” he chuckled as Davis and the rest of the side joined the goal celebration.

“Broke your cherry, lad!” Davis cackled as he tussled Lexx’s hair. “Get in!”

As the Donford faithful continued the cheering, the rest of the ground began to reverberate:

COME ON YOU ROVERS!

COME ON YOU ROVERS!

COME ON YOU ROVERS!

Guess they think they’re not out of it, DJ thought.

The Rovers were a bit more wary of Lexx, and it looked like they were covering him with not just the center back but at least one other midfielder. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea with guys like Richard and Duka still on the field, but that was fine with him. He wanted to get a chance himself, try to make an impact. Ten minutes later he had his chance.

It was a move by Duka that unlocked the Rover’s defense. As he headed toward the penalty area, both center backs converged on him to cut off the direct shot, but Duka tucked in a pass to the left and slightly behind himself where Lexx was waiting on the left once again. A fullback and defensive midfielder closed in on him, but they were too late for his left foot. This time he sent in a cross just high enough to sail over the leaping forms of the central defenders and sped toward DJ, who was still twenty yards from the goal.

He only had one touch. It was all he needed.

The ball leaped off his right foot, a rising screamer the Rovers defenders reacted to a split second too late. The ball shupped into the top right-hand corner of the goal, with no chance of rescue by the keeper.

First goal, first professional goal.

He was silent as he came to a standstill, just outside the penalty area. He raised his arms in triumph, making the “I love you” sign language symbol, but he didn’t feel like his feet were on the ground. Then they weren’t on the ground for real as Davis and Gord, who’d just been subbed on two minutes previously, got on either side and lifted him up in the air.

“Yank gets a goal too, good on you!” Davis said.

“Of course he did!” Gord laughed.

They turned him around to face the visitors’ end. The entire corner of the old stadium was bouncing with fans out of their seats, waving Donford royal purple scarves and roaring their approval. I want to remember this, all of this, he thought.

“Come on, let’s get back,” Davis said, leading them to back to their half.

#

He started hearing the chants as everyone got back onto the field. They were faint at first, but they began growing in volume, cutting through the misting air and sheets of rain. It started in the eastern end of the stadium, and then spread to maybe half of the home stands:

Rent boys on the move! Oh my!

Rent boys on the move! Here we go!

See them sneaking to the alley

Rent boys on the move!

The chant continued for one minute, then another. Lexx looked down at his feet. Wonder if this is bringing back bad memories. He walked over to him and made a show of hanging his arm over Lexx’s shoulders. “Looks like we got their attention,” he said.

“I guess.”

DJ patted his shoulder and stood up. “C’mon, we’re going to need to show these guys how stupid they are.”

He glared at the other team. DJ was surprised to see nearly all of them embarrassed, looking down at their feet or anywhere except for him and Lexx.

After another minute, he saw Jerry and Davy from their team approach the ref. “You guys going to allow that? Come on, ref,” he heard Jerry above the rest of the crowd.

In the far corner, the Donford faithful began their own chant:

Well, I’d rather be a rent boy than a cunt,

Well, I’d rather be a rent boy than a cunt,

Well, I’d rather be a rent boy,

Rather be a rent boy,

Rather be a rent boy than a cunt

“Well, it’s a start,” DJ chuckled.

Eventually, he saw the Rovers’ captain, #4, a center back, gather a couple of the Rover players and they made their way toward the home stands, motioning for the fans to calm down. The singing started to die down as the PA announcer began to go into a statement regarding how the Football Association and FIFA stood against discrimination in all its forms and would not be tolerated in football grounds.

“That’ll be a first warning,” Dave said. “If they keep it up, they might pull us off the field.”

“The Rovers’ fans keep this up, maybe they forfeit the game to us?” DJ cackled. “Hell of a way to hit the showers early.”

“Hadn’t seen that yet, but you never know,” Davis said as he walked up.

“Thanks for the word to the ref,” Lexx said as the crowd finally got silent. Davis just nodded.

#

There was just one more minor incident, around the 70^th minute of the game.

The ball had run over the sideline and it had been a Rover who had struck it last with his foot. Given DJ’s height, Blake had encouraged him to start taking throw-ins. There was a bit of hilarity at getting one of the only two Americans on the team to start using his hands in a game, but Blake and Greene had insisted he was doing a good job of it.

He was near where the visitors stand was right next to the home fans. There were a line of stewards – security personnel – in bright yellow jackets, a thin yellow line between the scattered purple and the thicker green crowds. However, there wasn’t a sign of any fighting between the two groups.

He was just about to reach down for the ball when a bright neon purple object, thrown from the direction of the Rover’s fans, bounced and skidded across the snow-strewn sideline and came to a rest next to him.

DJ gazed down at the object. Hmm… synthetic rubber exterior, wobbly, mushroom-shaped tip, fake veins… yup, it’s a dildo. Ten inches long at least.

He could feel the eyes of the entire stadium on him, especially his team’s fans right behind him. The decision took a split second.

DJ reached down, took the dildo in his right hand and, wobbling the object in the air, gave it a gentle lob up and in front of the first line of home fan seats. “Not fucking big enough,” he called out, with enough volume to reach the stands. “I need something a lot bigger.”

He turned back to the ball and he couldn’t quite hear the gasps and expressions of disbelief from the home fans over the howls of glee and whistles from the Donford fans. As he lifted the ball over his head and picked Gord out as his target, the chanting began from those fans:

BIG DICK DJ

BIG DICK DJ

BIG DICK DJ

BIG DICK DJ

He got the ball to Gord, gave the fans another “I love you” salute, and stepped back onto the field.

“Well, that has to be a first for me on the pitch,” Laz called out to him. DJ just shrugged.

#

In the 75^th minute, Duka managed to scoot a pass across the pitch to Lexx, who cut in from the left, leaving the Rover’s fullback, #31, churning from behind. DJ ran into the box from the right, attempting to get open for a cross. Lexx took a big wind-up with his right leg, spun around in a three-quarters turn, and before the Rovers defenders or keepers knew what was going on, he was able to send a thundering left-footed shot into the back of the net.

DJ ran over to congratulate Lexx. “Thanks for helping out,” he smiled as they embraced.

“Helped out? I didn’t make a pass.”

“You drew them off me long enough for me to get a shot off,” he said. “You did good.”

There was a song starting to build from the visiting section, a somewhat familiar tune with new words:

Come on Lexxie,

Oh, we swear we are keen,

At this moment,

You mean everything

Lexx beamed and waved to the crowd, arms outstretched in the air, even thought he had to eventually wipe his face as the rain continued to come down in sheets.

#

DJ finally got another chance in the 85^th minute.

Stuart sent a high crossing pass to Duka in the center circle, who pinged a shallow diagonal pass to Lexx. He turned as if to enter the box itself with four Rovers and the keeper waiting inside, but suddenly lashed another pass to the right and in DJ’s path. He managed to kill the pass enough to control it and think about where he was going to shoot…

…and in the next moment, he was collapsing onto the turf as a Rover center back slid into him from the left, toppling him to the ground. The ref was there immediately, yellow card high in the air, as Gord and Lexx helped him back up.

He saw the ref indicate a free kick and used quick-disappearing foam to spray a spot on the turf less than a yard from the outside of the penalty area. As the ref walked toward the goal to spray where the Rovers should set up their defensive wall, Duka and David walked up to the spot to get a look at the placement of the kick. It was Duka who frequently took free kicks for Donford, but DJ had an idea.

“Mind if I give it a shot, Cap?” DJ said to David as he approached them.

David glanced at Duka, who shrugged, then back at DJ. “Why not? You keep saying you’re a dead ball specialist,” he chuckled, then stepped away, gesturing at a questioning Blake on the sidelines all was well.

DJ looked up as he judged the position of the four Rover defenders in the wall, the position of the keeper, and the distance. He moved back two yards from the spot of the ball. With one more glance at the ref to confirm he was cleared to go, he took three steps and swung his right foot into the ball so it struck slightly down and to the left of its center.

The ball lifted forward and up from the ground, drifting over the leaping members of the wall, and then took a leisurely curve to the left. It seemed destined to curl into the top left-hand corner of the goal, until the outstretched fingertips of the leaping Rover keeper managed to nudge the ball over the crossbar.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he headed into the penalty area for the upcoming corner kick.

“Nothing to get pissed about, kid,” Duka said, clapping him on the shoulder. “It was a hell of a good shot.”

Duka and David were among the Donford players who joined him in the box to get ready for the Donford corner kick. To DJ’s surprise, he saw Lexx had gone to the left-hand corner flag to take the kick.

There was a moment when he looked up at Lexx, looked around at the position of the Rovers players in the penalty area, and he realized exactly where Lexx was going to place his cross. He waited until Lexx struck it with his left foot, sending the ball in a boomerang-style up and down arc before moving to the spot and leaping into the air before any Rovers could react. The ball connected with his forehead, redirecting at a 45 degree angle toward the post closest to Lexx, and the keeper had no chance of keeping it out of the net.

Donford 4 Rovers Nil, thank you very fucking much, DJ thought as all the Donford players piled on top of him in celebration in the mud and the rain before he had a chance to get up. From his vantage point, he began to see the Rovers’ fans beginning to file for the exits.

#

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1. I have a final idea for the title of the book pretty much set in my head, but I am planning on holding off announcing what the official title is until we are closer to publication time.

2. I had to look all of that up. 😅