Let’s face it: everyone who knew him was fed up to the tits with Matty so the news that he had been found like that came as very little surprise to anyone. Let me explain.
One of his less intelligent stunts was when he and a group of his mates decided to use the school’s CCTV cameras for target practice, first with their footballs and, when they didn’t cause enough damage, with stones. It took real brain not to realise that the images of him and his mates had already been recorded. That particular stunt cost their parents quite a lot of money, all except Matty’s who refused to accept their son’s culpability. Perhaps that explains a lot.
Another was when one of his friends pulled down his shorts and underwear during the 400 metres at a school sports day. Instead of stopping to adjust his dress immediately, Matty ran on for about 100 metres in front of everybody before doing so.
So, most of his friends thought that made him a “good laugh”. But his conduct on the football field was a different matter. That made him a total arse (I was going to use an alliterative phrase starting with the word “complete” but thought better of it in print). Let me explain.
Matty’s older brother, Sean, was already a professional footballer who had been taken on by our second-nearest Football League club and had since been sold on to a more prestigious one. Whenever he appears on the local TV news, everyone who knows him feels good for him. His autographed shirt hangs in the school library. But Sean had worked hard at school as well as on his football. He took all the advice that both his teachers and his trainers gave him and is now really going places.
Matty was even more talented and should have eclipsed his big brother by now but he hasn’t. Let me explain.
Let me explain.
In spite of certain reservations on behalf of the management, Matty found a training place in a professional club but the manager soon realised that his selfishness meant that he was not the asset to the team that he should have been. He was recognised as having far more natural talent than his older brother but the staff didn’t seem to be able to direct it towards the greatest good of the club. Too often someone was in place to score when Matty had the ball. All he had to do was pass and give his team-mate a clear shot at goal. No. He’d rather shoot for goal himself only to have the ball intercepted and sent back up the pitch.
It was after the game on Saturday, May 14th that everyone had finally had enough. An eighteen year-old should have reached greater maturity by then. But then so should the rest of the team, I suppose. Let me explain.
All the players were in the showers and the usual insults were being exchanged. No one would have suspected that anything unusual was about to happen, well, at least Matty wouldn’t have done so and that was the whole idea.
Matty stepped out of the shower and started towelling down. He was never one of the first to do so; he hogged the shower nearly as much as he hogged the ball. As he stepped out of the wet area, he felt a sharp snap on his backside. That wasn’t unusual, there were always high-jinx in the shower room and he wasn’t surprised at having been towel-whipped but what happened next came as a bit more of a surprise. Let me explain.
Matty hadn’t even had time to dry his spiky dark hair let alone gel it to an acceptable style. He hadn’t had time to dry his private parts or anything else for that matter when he turned to see who had attacked him. Then even he noticed that there was something wrong. The whole room was quiet. Everyone was looking at him. No one was smiling.
His team-mates were in different states of dryness and various states of undress but they were all looking humourlessly at him.
“What’s up, boys?” Matty was thin lipped at the best of times and the crooked, half-smile emphasised this feature of his physiognomy.
“Get him.” There followed a concerted, and certainly pre-planned assault. Anyone who has never been slammed naked onto a tiled changing room floor by so may assailants will not be able to understand the shock, panic and sheer pain engendered. Matty understood.
“Come on, boys, what’s on? It’s not my birthday or anything.” Matty genuinely had no idea how unpopular he was.
Geoff stepped forward. “Let me explain.”
“You’re a total cunt. A selfish little prat. A complete drag-anchor. A complete unthinking little git. An unmitigated liability. “ In the interests of brevity (and decency) I’ve cut out some of the opinions and falsely attributed them to one speaker for the sake of effect, but I think you’ll get the idea.
“You’ve cost us at least four goals in the last six games and we’re pissed off.”
“You want all the attention? Well, now you’ve got it.” By now the other footballers had got off him and Matty thought it would be a good idea to use his hands to protect his precious parts. He was quite pale for someone who spent so much time outdoors and, although fit, had no greatly defined physique other than good shoulders and a pronounced rounded arse. Lying naked and face up on the floor with only his hands for protection, Matty had never felt so vulnerable.
“We need to keep you out of the way for a few days. We can’t have you picked for Wednesday’s game. If no one knows where you are, they can’t get a message to you, can they?” Sam seemed to have taken over from Geoff as spokesman.
Geoff took over again, “There’s twelve of us; even the reserves know they’d be better than you. There’s no way you can get away from us so it’s just a question of whether you want it easy or difficult.”
“Oh, come on lads, this is a joke. Isn’t it?” That’s when Mattty’s crooked smile disappeared.
“No, it’s not. Let me explain.”
“Other than the caretaker, there’s no one else in the ground and he seems to sympathise with us. He’s worked for this club for twenty years and he can’t remember seeing such a detestable little ball-hog as you before. He won’t trouble us and he’s even shown us a place hidden away where not even his staff go. Enjoy.”
The entire squad then seemed to descend upon Matty. The outcome should have taught him something about the value of teamwork. He was tipped onto his belly and every time he tried to speak, he found his face being smashed into the ground, not hard enough to make his nose bleed but enough to bruise him and make him feel completely helpless. His arms were quickly forced behind him so that his hands met the opposite elbows and what felt like some sort of adhesive tape was wrapped around his lower arms, starting from his right wrist until it reached his right elbow whereupon the process was reversed.
“We’re using Elastoplast, Rory’s mum got it from the hospital. It’s hypo-allergenic and really sticky and it’s going to hurt like hell when you rip it off.” explained Geoff.
“Yes,” agreed Rory, “and we need to keep you like that for so long that using ropes would be cruel, wouldn’t it?” With that he started wrapping more surgical tape between Matty’s upper arms so that he couldn’t force them apart.
Even with his legs still free, Matty was now, to all intents and purposes, helpless. It’s just a shame for him that his mouth didn’t seem to understand that. “Keep shouting, boy. While you can.” said Sam, “Where’s his skins?”
“Which ones?”
“Duhh! His compression shorts of course.”
Matty thought that at least he wasn’t gong to be left naked even if the garment did stink from the effort of ninety unrelenting minutes’ play.
Rory found the shorts and Matty prepared to be at least partially dressed again.
Sam spoke again. “Let me explain.”
Following Sam’s erudition, Matty was left in no doubt that he was not going to be dressed in even such minimal clothing. He also knew what Sam meant by, “While you can.” Even Matty’s mouth was hardly big enough to accommodate the scrunched up garment but Sam certainly got most of it in with the assistance of the guy that had of hold Matty’s balls. What couldn’t be accommodated was tucked, as neatly as Sam could manage, behind Matty’s lips before they were forced together and even more flesh-coloured tape applied. It looked remarkably orange against the pale youngster’s face.
By now Matty’s defiant yelling had subdued into quite a pitiful sounding whimpering. It had no effect, well, except for making everyone else laugh. Everyone stood back to admire the result of teamwork. Matty still scrabbled round on the floor of the changing room frantically trying to stand up. The others had time. They waited until he had done so.
“OK, so what do you think you’re going to do now?” asked Geoff.
Matty was a pillock but he wasn’t thick. He realised that his tormentors had just let him waste his energy to no effect at all. Their echoing laughter was like a knife in his guts; anyone less intelligent wouldn’t have been affected so badly.
“Want to cooperate now or do you want even more pain?” asked Geoff. Matty stood still and hung his head. All hope was disappearing – all hope had disappeared.
Matty looked at his team-mates and said, “Uu-eee” but no-one was prepared to believe that he was trying to say, “Please.” Not even the desperate look in those grey eyes was of any use at all. Matty had sealed his own fate long ago, not just with that last spoiled scoring opportunity but by his whole attitude to his team-mates. They’d tried asking the Boss why he was always picked over certain other members of the squad but the Boss didn’t want to listen; all he could see was the sheer naked talent of the young man. So could the rest of his team mates at the minute. But it wasn’t very impressive compared to some.
“OK, boys, time for a bit more punishment, I think.” Matty had nowhere to run. He was surrounded by people with wet towels being prepared for duty.
“Eeeee!” The last prolonged, desperate plea degenerated into a series of muffled but desperate yelps as the whipping started.
“Yep, I reckon that gag’ll do.” announced Rory as Matty fell to the floor and curled into a foetal position in a desperate attempt to escape the attentions of his fellows.
The whipping stopped and Sam bent down to Matty’s ear and said, “Let me explain.”
Sam really read Matty’s fortune – or at least as far as the next few days were concerned. He was going to be secured and taken somewhere where he would be guarded to make sure he was safe but where nobody else would find him until Wednesday’s team had been picked. If he was good, he’d be granted privileges, otherwise, he’d find out just what sort of unfortunate implications being completely immobilised for over three days would have on an athlete.
By this stage, Matty’s natural aggression had given way to abject fear and when Sam asked, “Understand, wanker?” Matty could only nod without any attempt to protest against the epithet.
Justin was one of the players who always got left on the bench while Matty was wasting the team’s opportunities and he was rather hoping that their prisoner would put up more of a fight so that he could wade in on his own behalf. It was a shame to see him collapse so quickly but Justin thought that he’d get his opportunities over the next couple of days.
Geoff put it to Matty that Justin could blindfold him and lead him to where he was to spend the next few days or they could tape his ankles and legs together before Justin and Paul (the other player who seemed to be missing out on the action on the field) dragged him there. Matty made no resistance while one of his own dirty football socks was folded, placed over his eyes and taped into place. Justin thought that a bit of reinforcement would be useful but, after five judiciously applied turns, he stopped.
Just for fun the rest of the team then spun Matty around like the start of a game of blind man’s buff. The entertainment provided by watching him trying to regain his equilibrium was enhanced by a further application of whippings with wet towels. Once he had fallen to the floor again, Justin and Paul hauled him to his feet, grabbed him by the arms and made him move backwards to his new accommodation – fast!
Matty didn’t even know there was as much of the ground as he was being dragged across but he was aware of a number of doors being shut behind him and found himself being forced down three flights of stairs giving him the impression that he was being consigned to the depths of the Earth. Paul and Justin eventually released him and Paul said, “Welcome home.”
The next voice Matty heard was Geoff’s. “We discussed this next bit to decide who would have to do it. Someone lost.” Matty suddenly backed up to the wall as he felt something clamped around his scrotum. It was heavy and pretty tight. Justin had fitted Matty into a large round padlock with a very small gap between the shackle and the case, part of which was already occupied by the end link of a short but hefty chain. Paul and he then turned the, by now terrified, young man round to face the wall (although he couldn’t see it) and Paul locked the other end of the chain to a redundant heavy staple imbedded in the wall. It was high enough and the chain was short enough to leave Matty hardly able to move without stressing his more delicate parts even more than they were stressed already. He couldn’t turn, move away from the wall or bend his legs by more than a couple of centimetres.
The last voice Matty heard before the sound of people leaving and more and more distant doors being slammed shut and locked was Sam’s. “Buy now you’re probably close to pisssing yourself. Well don’t! We’ve decided that your hair and nose will be rubbed into anything you leave on the floor.”
The team had plans for Matty. Let me explain.
TBC
If you did, It was all my own work!