Unseen Academicals

At least Dr Hix’s tirade and attempts to drag the ground with him bought them some time. Glenda ran on to the pitch to a dishevelled and downcast Trev.

‘What happened, Trev?’ she said. ‘You had it right there in front of you. You had it in your hands, well, on your boot, anyway.’

‘It doesn’t do what I want,’ said Trev.

‘You’re supposed to make it do what you want. It’s just a football.’

‘Yeah, but I’m tryin’ to learn with all of this goin’ on.’

‘Well, at least you nearly did it. We haven’t lost yet and it’s still only the first half.’

When play was resumed, according to the editor of the Times:

A certain amount of backbone had been retrieved by the men in pointy hats and captain Nobbs led a concerted attack in an attempt to further interfere with Charlie Barton’s lunch, but to the dismay of all, the son of Dave Likely still appeared to have only a nodding acquaintance with the art of goal scoring and it appeared very much that his only chance of putting one away would be to have the ball wrapped up and sent via the Post Office.

And then, to the shock of all, the occult gang appeared to prove that they were far better at billiards than football when another of Likely’s powerful, but directionless, attempts rebounded again off the goal on to the head of Professor Rincewind, who was, in fact, running in the opposite direction, and was in the back of the goal before anyone, including Charlie, knew where it was.

This got a cheer, but only because the game now appeared, in our opinion, to be a comedy routine. Alas, there was no comedy about the fact that in several parts of the Hippo, fights were breaking out between gangs of rival supporters, doubtless inspired by some of the shameful performances on the pitch…

As the two sides trooped or hobbled back to their places, the referee called the captains together. ‘Gentlemen, I’m not quite sure what we are doing here, but I am quite certain that it’s not exactly football and I look forward to the inquiry later on. In the meantime, before anyone else is injured and especially before the crowd start to tear this place apart and eat one another, I will tell you that the next goal scored will be the last one, even though we are still only in the first half.’ He looked meaningfully at Hoggett and said, ‘I sincerely hope that some players will examine their consciences. If I may coin a phrase, gentlemen, it’s sudden death either way. I will give you a few minutes to impress this upon your teams.’

‘I am sorry, sir,’ said Hoggett, looking around, ‘some of my lads are not people I would have chosen, if you get my drift. I’ll give them a good talking to.’

‘In my opinion that would only work if you were hitting them with a hammer at the same time, Mister Hoggett. They are a disgrace. And do you also understand me, Mister Nobbs?’

‘I think we’d like to carry on, too. Never say die.’

‘And I would not like to see death here, either, but I suspect that your request for extra time is in the hope that Mister Likely will learn how to play football, but I fear that will not happen in a month of Sundays.’ ‘Well, yes, sir, but can’t you—’ Hoggett began.

‘Mister Hoggett, I have spoken and I am the referee and right now I am the nearest thing to the gods.’

I am the nearest thing to the gods. It came back as an echo. Softer. Brighter. He looked around, ‘What? Did you chaps say something?’ Nearest thing to the gods. There was a sound like gloing! But the ball was still in his hands, wasn’t it? He stared at it. And was it just him, or was there something in the air? Something … in the air … the silveryness of fine winter days.

Trev did an embarrassingly jiggly little run on the spot as he waited. When he looked up, there was Andy Shank watching him.

‘Your dear old dad must be ’aving a fit,’ said Andy cheerfully.