“Hugh, I just wanted to follow up with you regarding the new hockey kits,” Ben said. “Would you be able to make a start on some preliminary designs? As you know we have our first game soon and we have to get moving.”
“Sure Ben, I will make a start this evening,” Hugh said happily.
“Well, once you’ve got your designs ready run them by me and we’ll speak to our fashion design lecturer and see if we can get him to whip them up,” Ben explained. “Obviously he will need time to measure the team up for their outfits and order up the materials, so there’s not a moment to waste.”
“I’ll skip lunch and run up to my room and start on the designs now,” Hugh said eagerly and made his way to the door.
“That’s the spirit, Hugh,” Ben called after him. “Just let me know if you need anything.”
The door slammed behind Hugh as he charged out of the room.
“So Tony, I just wanted to have a couple of minutes with you to see how you’re fitting in.”
Tony scowled, “I am not fitting in; I’ll never fit in. I’m a square peg and this place is a round hole.”
“Hmmm, well at this school we pride ourselves on being able to ram geometrically diverse items into holes of differing shapes and sizes,” he said half seriously.
Tony winced at the mental image, “And things like that really don’t help me to feel at ease,” he growled.
“Sorry Tony, I’ll try and keep it to a minimum,” Ben said apologetically. “Look, you’ve only been here for a short time and I think that you’re doing really well. You had a bumpy start but you’ve really excelled on the hockey pitch and your performance in today’s class was breathtaking. I mean you were a natural,” he said respectfully. “You should be really pleased with yourself,” he added genuinely and smiled warmly at Tony.
“Thanks. I suppose hockey and walking isn’t that gay,” Tony said begrudgingly. “I guess I can cope with that and I actually surprised myself with the fashion assignment that you gave, in fact I’ve finished it already,” Tony announced proudly as he fished in his pocket, pulled out a few pieces of folded up paper and handed them to Ben.
Ben looked impressed and eagerly began to unfold the papers, “Well, let’s take a look shall we.”
Tony pointed at the paper and explained, “I’ve ripped out the bits that I liked from the magazines and written a little bit about each of them.”
Ben nodded and said, “I see, I see. Let’s go through this now then.” He smiled broadly as he looked at the first page that had been ripped out of the magazine. “Nice choice Tony,” he said and then began to read Tony’s submission. A frown appeared on his forehead and the smile disappeared from his face. He looked at Tony for a moment and sighed, “Tony I am not sure you’ve understood the assignment correctly.”
Tony instantly became defensive, “What are you talking about!” He glared at Ben angrily, his eyes made daggers.
“Well, the assignment was to pick a few outfits and explain why you liked them.”
“Yes, and that is exactly what I did,” stated Tony firmly.
Ben stopped for a moment, his head rolled back and he stared at the ceiling, “Well, technically you have done what I asked, but this really isn’t what I’m looking for.” He shook the paper to straighten it out and began to read out loud, “You wrote: ‘I really like the bird on this page, she looks chuffing gorgeous. I love the way that her top is too tight for her and the way her massive tits bulge against her top. She’s got a cracking set of pins too that she can wrap around me anytime she likes. Her heels make her look like she’s up for anything and she’s looking out of the page with “come-to-bed-eyes” that seem to say “I’m a dirty little bitch and I’d love you to cum on my tits.”’” Ben sighed and rubbed his eyes, “Need I go on?”
Tony frowned at Ben, “What you disagree?” he said completely missing the point.
Ben shook his head, “I suppose this is my fault and I should have been a little clearer. I guess I didn’t take your unique situation into account when assigning this work.” He handed the assignment back Tony. “To be honest I was looking for a more critical report on the fashion rather than the models. Something more like, ‘The vermillion cashmere sweater is the perfect colour to wear this season. The autumnal colours blend magnificently with the brown leather boots.’”
“Oh,” Tony said simply.
“What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate,” Ben drawled. “Perhaps you’ll be able to take something away from our conversation today now that I have explained this in more detail and write up a new version…maybe a little less X-rated this time?”
“I think you’re asking the impossible now Ben,” Tony said folding the assignment back up and putting it in his pocket. “In fact it might be easier to give you the moon on a stick,” he stated matter-of-factly.
Ben nodded resolutely, “True, but no one said that this was going to be easy Tony.”
Tony left the room with these words ringing in his ears.
Tony skipped lunch and made his way back up to the Larry Grayson Boudoir. As he approached he could hear music blaring out of the room. He pushed the door open and wandered in and saw Hugh playing air guitar.
Over the noise Tony shouted, “What is this Hugh? Aren’t you supposed to be working on the hockey kits?”
Hugh jumped out of his skin, “Shit, Tony. What are you doing creeping up on me like that?” he shouted Steven Tyler wailed through a chorus.
“Is this Aerosmith?” Tony yelled.
“Err, yes,” Hugh yelled back, “hold on let me turn it down a bit,” he picked up the remote control and reduced the volume. “Sorry yes, it’s Aerosmith.”
“I thought so,” Tony said, “I didn’t think that this would be your sort of music,” he added. “I thought that you’d be more into Erasure or the Pet Shop Boys or something…erm,” he searched for the right word, “softer.”
As Hugh struggled to explain, the others arrived, “Christ Tony,” said Giles, “what’s this hetero shit that you’ve got on.”
Tony looked at Hugh for a moment, Hugh looked pleadingly at Tony.
“It’s Aerosmith, Giles. Hang on, I’ll turn it off.” Tony made his way across to the stereo but was intercepted by Gareth.
Gareth picked up some of the CDs, “Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd …” he read out loud. “Where did you get these from, I am pretty sure that they weren’t in the bag that you brought here.”
“What are you the bloody music police?” Tony said defensively, “give me them back.”
Gareth chucked them all over to Tony with some suspicion except for one. He patted the remaining album in his hand, “Tony, what’s this Black Sabbath album like?”
Tony paused momentarily, “Err, really good actually,” he eventually said unconvincingly.
“Really?” Gareth said. “That’s interesting because there wasn’t a Black Sabbath CD in that pile.”
Hugh’s face went white with panic.
“Oh wasn’t there?” Tony said coolly, “I have got one but I must have left it in my bag.”
Gareth eyed Tony’s face looking for micro-expressions before saying, “Yes, that must be what happened.”
“Hey Gareth,” Hugh said quickly, “Ben’s asked me to design these hockey kits. Do you fancy helping me out here? I really don’t know where to start.”
Gareth instantly forgot about Tony, “Would I ever!” he squealed as he ran across to his cabinet and took out a sketchbook and some pencils. He ran back across the room and sat down on the bed next to Hugh. “I’ve got a million and one ideas floating around in my head already, so let’s make the magic happen,” Gareth said, overcome with excitement.
“If you guys are working on the kits then I had better get the team together and get some practise in,” Tony said enthusiastically. “Bruce, Keenan, Uwe, grab your kit and I’ll meet you on the field. I’ll go and grab the others if they aren’t in lectures and we can get a couple of hours in.”
&
nbsp; Tony changed quickly into his football shirt and hot pants and ran out of the room with hockey stick and ball in hand to rouse the rest of the team.
Keenan turned to Uwe and said, “Is it my imagination or is Tony changing.”
“Change alone is eternal, perpetual, immortal,” Uwe replied sagaciously.
Chapter Ten
With the change of season Tony had been training the team hard, his car magazine was gathering dust as he studied the rules of hockey with occasional relief provided by his fashion magazines. They trained almost every day, with Ben and Tony jointly testing out different strategies and formations.
Meanwhile, Hugh and Gareth worked feverishly to complete the team’s hockey kits in readiness for their imminent first match. Designs had been torn up and re-drawn, measurements had been taken and retaken, outfits produced and rejected. They’d given blood, sweat and tears as they sought perfection under Ben’s watchful gaze.
At the end of their final practice session Ben called them all into the changing rooms for a pep talk. “It’s the first game of the season tomorrow and you need to be prepared. I want you all to have an early night tonight. No drinking and no partying,” he lectured.
The team groaned but nodded in agreement.
“Now Hugh, Gareth,” Ben said looking at them both, “I believe that you two have something to say,” and he gestured for them to address the team.
“Thank you Ben,” Hugh said before speaking to the team. “You’ll be delighted to hear that after several weeks Gareth and I have finished the team kits.”
Gareth walked around the room and handed out a neatly folded kit to each of the players. The team cooed and gasped as they unfolded it and held it up in front of their eyes.
“You’ll notice that Gareth and I finally decided on pink. We had rejected the colour initially because it seemed too obvious and such a cliché but in the end we couldn’t deny it any longer, we just had to surrender to it,” Hugh explained in a serious tone. “But I am sure that you’ll agree it was the right choice.” The group smiled and nodded in agreement.
“The thick black line that runs diagonally from the left shoulder to the right hip signifies the road that we are all on,” Hugh elucidated as he traced a line in the air to emphasise this. “And now for the pièce de résistance,” he said dramatically, his nostrils flaring. “Inspiration was taken from Tony’s original hot pants,” Hugh continued as he narrated the unveiling of the kits. “If you turn the shorts around you’ll see that the words ‘Nobody’s Bitch’ have been finely embroidered into the back of them.” The team laughed out loud as they each looked at the rear of the shorts.
Tony joined in with the chorus of laughter, “Who’d have thought I could inspire you lot?”
“We’re glad that you approve, Tony,” Gareth said as he handed the last of the kits out. He handed Hugh the goalie’s smock. “We did our best with this,” he said apologetically to the group, “but how on earth do you zhoosh up a smock?”
Tony looked at Gareth and saw that he didn’t have any more kits to give out, “Oi, where’s my frigging kit then?”
The room quickly quietened at Tony’s anger as they waited for another outburst from him.
“Don’t fly off the handle just yet,” Gareth said calmly as he retrieved something from his bag. He walked slowly towards a scowling Tony. Then he presented him with his kit. “We’ve taken your unique position into account here,” Gareth said considerately. “You’ll notice that everyone else’s kit is pink.” He waved his arm inviting Tony to look at the kits again. “But for the captain we thought that you’d be a little more comfortable in this,” Gareth stepped back dramatically as he spoke these words and revealed Tony’s bespoke kit.
As Tony looked at it his scowl faded and gave way to a smile. “You know what?” he said with surprise, “I like it! And I’m glad that I don’t have to wear pink. I’m genuinely relieved that you’ve made me a special kit in burgundy.”
Gareth’s cheeks coloured, “It’s not burgundy, it’s red!” He stamped his foot as he shouted, “Red! Red! Red!” The team looked amazed, the ‘unfazable’ Gareth was fazed and over such minutiae.
“Calm down, Gareth, keep your knickers on,” Tony said. “What’s the bloody difference between red and burgundy anyway?”
“Red is the colour of sex! Burgundy is the colour of hot water bottles!” he wailed in disbelief at Tony. He spoke quickly and furiously, barely stopping to catch his breath, “Red is the colour of sex and fear and danger and signs that say, ‘do not enter’,” and as he said these final words he framed them in the air with his hands. He stopped his rant and gasped for air, staring at Tony as he waited for his response.
Tony laughed, whilst everyone else tried to blend into the scenery. “You’ve just listed all of my favourite things in life,” Tony said with a smile. “Though you could have changed the wording on the back of my shorts from ‘nobody’s bitch’ to ‘do not enter’, I would have really appreciated that.”
“You really have changed Tony,” Bruce said, smirking. “A month ago you wouldn’t have known the colour burgundy from maroon.”
Tony frowned, not sure how to take this comment, and grunted in a non-committal way.
“I’m proud of you, mate. If anyone could make Gareth lose his cool I knew it’d be you,” he joked, “you really have a talent for it.”
Tony relaxed and thought hard for something to say. “Err, thanks Bruce, I’ll be sure to add that skill to my CV.”
“I don’t know what’s funnier, you adding it to you CV, or that idea that you even have a CV,” Gareth said, calming down after his outburst.
“Well, try it on then, Tony,” cried Ben unable to contain himself. “Let’s see what our glorious leader looks like all kitted up.”
“Look away then,” Tony ordered, “I’m not giving you bastards a cheap thrill.”
“Come this way, Tony,” Gareth said, taking the kit from Tony and shaking the folds out. “It’ll be a little more private.” He and Hugh led Tony to the doors that linked to the main building. He handed Tony the new kit and said, “Slip this on.”
Tony took the kit from them and placed it on the tiled floor, and then he removed his shirt and newly-purchased shorts and put on the new kit. “What do you think?”
Gareth and Hugh tugged and pulled at it critically, “Oh, for Christ’s sake, Tony!” Gareth exclaimed in frustration, “it doesn’t fit properly! It’s too tight around the chest and too loose around the stomach.”
Tony shrugged as if to say ‘not my fault’.
“Jesus, Tony. Every time we measure or fit you you’ve changed bloody shape again. Where’s your beer belly now?”
Tony patted his stomach. “It’s hard to maintain a beer belly when there’s no bloody beer around. I’ve been training almost every day with the team and I guess I’ve lost a few pounds.”
“And gained a few pounds of muscle,” Hugh said squeezing Tony’s arm.
Tony shrugged him off, “Get off me, you bender.”
“Look, it doesn’t matter, we just need to make a few minor adjustments and it’ll be ready for tomorrow’s game,” Gareth reasoned. “I just hope your body settles down a bit now.”
The three of them walked back to where the team were waiting patiently and Gareth and Hugh presented Tony to them. They greeted him with a round of applause and cheered. After a minute or two the clapping and cheering petered out and the team all stared at Tony expectantly.
“I think you’d better say something, Tony,” Ben whispered, “and try and make it inspirational.”
Tony looked nervously at them and coughed. Eventually he spoke, “As you know we have our first game tomorrow. We’ve all practised long and hard and now we need to give it all we’ve got. There’s no way we can lose. No retreat, no surrender!” Tony bellowed at the top of his voice. Tony’s call to arms fell on deaf ears.
“You’re having a laugh,” Bruce shouted over to Tony. “We’re going to get thrashed tomorrow, we�
��re absolute shite.”
The group muttered in agreement and nodded their heads.
“We won’t lose, I’m sure of it,” Tony said, beginning to doubt himself.
“How sure?”
“I’m so sure I’ll put money on it if you like,” Tony said defiantly.
“Forget money,” Bruce said, “where’s the motivation for you to lead us to glory. If we lose, then you lose a few quid. We need higher stakes,” he said as he scratched his head trying to think of something. Suddenly his eyes lit up, “I know just the thing. If we lose you have to come with us to a gay lap dancing club and have one dance.”
“Fuck off! You queer bastard,” Tony said out of instinct.
The room fell quiet for a moment in shock, before a mixture of angry and deflated voices started to rise.
“See! I told you, even the captain doesn’t think we can do it,” said one of the team.
“Well, if he doesn’t think we can do it then why bother?” said another.
“Hey!” shouted Tony. The group fell silent. “I’m sure we can do it.”
“Prove it,” bellowed Paul.
“Yeah, if you’re so sure then take the bet,” another voice called out. “If you’re so sure that we’ll win then there’s no risk involved for you, is there?”
Tony swallowed nervously before continuing. “Okay, okay. I’ll prove it, but when we win I don’t want any innuendos for a week and if we lose, which we won’t,” he added quickly, “then I’ll go to the bloody club with you.”
“And have a lap dance?” Bruce shouted.
“I said I would, didn’t I?” Tony said through gritted teeth.
“From a gay man,” Bruce said.
“Yes,” Tony shouted losing his temper, “from a bleeding gay man. From the gayest man that you can find. But you’re wasting your time, we simply won’t lose, I won’t let you.” He clenched his fists several times as he took deep breaths.
“Shake on it then,” Bruce said, extending his hand, “in front of all these witnesses.”
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