More Than a Game | Mason Mount

Four

The feeling of missing out on the game that weekend drove me to train harder than I had in a while that week.  Our next game was against Norwich: newly promoted teams could put up a good fight, but their bad start to the season left me hopeful that Frank would name me in the squad for the "easy" game.  Even if I didn't come off the bench, I just wanted to feel truly part of the team again.

It was also our last game before the first international break of the season.  I knew there was no way I would be called up, but it would frustrate me too much if I wasn't at least named in this squad, because then I would have to wait a whole two weeks to be given the chance again.

I had ended up seeing some of the team on Saturday when a surprising call from Emiliano invited me over for supper with some of the others.  I was partly expecting Mason not to show up, but I was surprised again to see him there when I arrived, chatting to Fran and her boyfriend.  The night had been great, and it served as further encouragement to get back to my best, not that I needed much.

By the time Thursday training rolled around, I was almost certain I'd see my name on the squad list the next day.  We were playing the early kick-off game on Saturday, away at Norwich, meaning we'd drive up early on the morning.  With this arrangement in mind, Frank gathered us in the changing room after our session on Thursday and told us who would be coming to the final session on Friday.  Nerves were biting at my stomach as I sat between Fran and Mason, anxious to hear my name.

"Paul and David," Frank was reading from the list on his clipboard, not looking at the team, "keepers.  Defenders will be Elena, Beck, Juan, Annika, Emil and Thomas."

I stopped listening after Frank read my name, my heart beating loudly in my ears.  I could feel my cheeks heating up as eyes landed on me from across the room, including from Mason on my right.  Ignoring them, I tried to pay attention as the gaffer started giving us travel arrangement information.  When he finally finished and had left the room, Annika, Kyle and Olly surrounded me, Mason and Fran.

"Beck back in the squad!" Fran was cheering. I looked between their beaming faces and felt weirdly emotional.

"Thank God," Mason was saying.

Annika pulled me in for a hug, and I had to push the others off me, embarrassed about the commotion they were causing.  I didn't want to make such a big deal about it, considering my presence meant Jonna Eriksson wasn't even travelling now. But at the same time I wanted to break out into song and dance at the thought of being back on the pitch, even if it was just the side.

Fran latched onto me, launching into movie plans for the bus ride tomorrow, and Mason followed us out into the car park insisting that he always sat next to me on trips.  It felt a bit childish, but I was lapping it up at the time.

I found it hard to get to sleep that night: I was so excited about the prospect of being involved again, even if the game was in two days, that scenarios of the game kept on running through my mind. I pictured myself doing remarkable things that there was basically no chance of me really doing, and eventually I fell into a blissful sleep as I imagined scoring an overhead kick to win the match.

Training dragged way too much for my liking the next day.  The travelling squad had a short run around on the pitch followed by tactical meetings with Frank and Jody, but I was already getting antsy thinking of the next day. By the time the morning rolled around and we were boarding the bus, I was abnormally restless.  I wasn't the best traveller normally.  I tended to get a bit stressed when flying and restless over car journeys even a couple of hours long.  So in my state, the bus ride was anything but enjoyable.

Fran had been victorious, so I was sitting next to her near the back of the team bus instead of next to Mason.  Her laptop was open and the movie playing, but I was hardly paying attention.  In its place, I was busy watching Kyle and Mase play a competitive looking Uno match. Rodrigo and Abby were peering over the backs of their seats to watch, too, and even through my earphones I could hear them laughing.  I took the buds out of my ear and motioned to the back of the bus when Fran looked up. She nodded, too engrossed in the movie to ask what I was going to make.

A cheer erupted from behind me as I moved to the small kitchen area at the back of the bus.  Annika, who had Olly napping on her shoulder while she watched something on her tablet, waved at me, and I smiled in reply.  The kitchen area was empty, thankfully, so I could grab a mug and start making some tea in peace.  I was busy pouring my milk in when Mason appeared next to me.

"Thanks for the offer," he scoffed jokingly. Leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, he shot me a grin.

"I'll make if you ask nicely," I replied.

"Nah, Abby made me some earlier."  I shrugged and got back to stewing my tea. "Hey, you doing okay?"

The concern in his expression took me by surprise.  "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Mason shrugged, looking away.  "I don't know.  You get weird on trips sometimes, that's all."

I held back my smile at his words, rather choosing to throw away my teabag.  "Oh, yeah, that."  I chuckled. "I'm alright; I just want it to be later, you know?"

"How great is it to be back?"   My chest fizzled with excitement.

"So flipping great!  It feels like I haven't played properly for years."

"Well, it has been a year," Mason pointed out. "When was the last Prem game you played? Before the World Cup?"

"Yeah."  I tried to push away the bleakness this conversation was bringing back and instead focus on the anticipation of the upcoming game.  "I guess I could not play later as well.  But it's still nice to at least be in the team."

Mason nodded thoughtfully.  "How is your knee after this week and everything?"

We ended up slipping into an empty row and spending most of the remaining trip chatting.  We talked through the game today and the games that I'd missed; we laughed at old stories about some of the matches we'd played in before I got injured; I quizzed Mason about the upcoming international break and about the England games over the summer.  The movie I'd been watching with Fran was long forgotten, such was the kind of effect Mason had on me.

It was strange how he knew how to calm me down when we travelled.  Well, not calm me down as much as just keep me occupied so that I practically forgot what we were doing.  Because sure enough, midway through a story about St George's Park and Marcus Peterson being locked in his room, Frank stood up at the front of the bus, intercom microphone in his hands.

"Alright, team, we're getting close," he informed us.  "Just one or two things before we touch down at the stadium."

While Frank talked, I couldn't help glancing over at Mason next to me.  His eyes were slightly narrowed, focused on our manager as he talked through our schedule for the day.  It was times like this when I seriously appreciated Mason, and when I realised how much I really had missed him when I'd been injured.

The words starting line-up caught my attention.  Looking back quickly to Frank, nerves started up in my stomach again. I knew the chances of me starting were very low, but still I sat on the edge of my sheet as he started reading.

"David, Tommy, Annika, Emil, Elena at the back. Mase and Rodri in the middle with Fran ahead of them.  Abby and Ol on the wings, and Kyle up front."

My stomach sank as I looked down at the floor, not wanting to meet Frank's eyes as they trailed over us.  I knew I wouldn't be starting, but it was still hard to be here and not have my name read out in the starting eleven.

"You okay?"

Mason's soft question was accompanied by a hand on my knee.  He squeezed it gently as I nodded, forcing myself to grin.  His expression told me he saw through it, though.

"You'll be back there in no time, Hart," he said me.  "Seriously. Just keep doing what you're doing."

I nodded, the surety in Mason's tone instantly making me trust him for some reason.  He nodded resolutely before he switched moods completely.  Gone was the serious, sombre expression and in its place was a playful, cheeky grin.

"Hey, want a quick game of Uno before we get there?"