"Listen up, team!"
We sat up in our seats, and paid attention. Coach stood in the aisle of the bus, examining the group of young men sitting in the seats in front of him.
"Seems traffic has been working against us, so we will have to stop at a hotel along the way. The first place we come across, we will lodge at. We stay there for the night, and then head towards Mandeville tomorrow."
Mandeville was the town in Jamaica where we were taking part in a football cup. Our team, 18-years old fresh seniors, would kick of the season by meeting an array of various teams in an informal, yet supposedly learning, gathering. It had been a long journey, but we were at that age where our energy was seemingly inexhaustible.
Our hotel was shaped as a perfect circle, with the lobby protruding in front of the building. Upon arrival the receptionist informed us that the rooms were still not ready, and suggested we use the hotel bar while we waiting. To a man, we teemed to the water hole.
We were not the only ones there, there were about as many locals present as our own number. All of them were male, and they stopped talking as we sauntered in. I could sense their eyes taking us in, gazing at us from top to bottom.
"You think they are looking for trouble?" I nervously asked Damian.
"Trouble? You wuzz." Damian retorted. Damian was always ridiculing me, whatever I said. I was used to the fact that nobody in my team ever paid attention to what I said, but still, I hated it. However, I was not in a position to object. The boys were all larger and stronger than me. They always got to play a lot more than me, the only times I was ever let out to the field by coach, was when our lead was so comfortable there was not even the slightest chance we would lose.
"Bring out the wimp!" one of my team mates would shout, and the rest of the team would snicker. Even coach Adams. Nobody respected me.
"Man, I am ready for a beer!" Matt exclaimed. The other boys chimed in. Nothing to state your coming of age, than drinking beer legitimately. We received our room keys, one to each room, numbered #1 through #12, coach Adams having the last one. And me having none.
"Hey, isn't there any room for me?" I asked concerned.
"Suck it up, weeny, you'll have to sleep on the couch!" Matt, the team striker, said contemptuously to me.
Nobody else on the team cared for my predicament, but I had already made up my mind to sleep in the bus instead. I would not be begging to sleep on the floor in the room of one of my team mates.
The hotel bar must have been some sort of sports pub, because the walls were draped withthe jerseys of several teams. We mused at the shirts, not immediately recognizing any of the names, even though some of the colours seemed familiar.
"What's the story about these teams?" coach Adams asked the bartender. "I can't say I recognize any of them."
The bartender smirked.
"Well, these are teams who have stayed at our hotel. The... best player on the team has had his shirt displayed here."
"Best player?" coach Adams asked.
That smirk again.
"Well... the one with the best stamina. The player to last the longest."
We must have looked confused, because the bartender added:
"Best stamina. Last to give in."
It still didn't make much sense to any of us, but we didn't really care.
"Hey, I know that team!" Landon suddenly exclaimed. "Donnerfeld, they're from Germany. We played them once. A bunch of cunts, if I remember correctly."
I glanced at the bartender, who was smiling. Briefly, he cupped his pelvis, and for a moment he seemed to give me a wink. Incredulously, I looked around at my team. Did that just happen? But nobody seemed to have registered; they were more occupied ordering and downing their beers as they were served.
In the pub I noticed something strange. The boys in our team started disappearing, one by one. I saw David leave with a young Jamaican, looking very content.
"Where are you going, David?" I asked as he passed me.
"Never you mind that, junior!" he replied with a smug tone.
I walked over to Tim, who was talking in a low voice with another of the locals. I could just pick up fragments of their conversation. The Jamaican was explaining something to my strawberry blond team mate.
"...will be girls there... sure... they are ready for action..."
Tim didn't need any further convincing, and he left along with his newfound, black, friend.
"Where did they all go...?" I asked, half loud. I was suddenly all alone in the bar, and with no place to go.
A strong hand grabbed my shoulder.
"You want to see your friends? Come, I will show you." a deep voice said behind me. I turned around, and gazed at a huge black man. His muscles bulged against the white shirt that was seemingly glue to his torso. I gulped, and let him lead me away. Me in front, him behind me, his hand still on my shoulder, directing me.
"I am Akoni." the man behind me suddenly said.
"Oh, eh, I am Sophus." I nervously answered.
"Sophie?"
"No, no, that's a girl's name. My name is Sophu..."
"Ok, Sophie, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." he chuckled.
"What? No, I'm not a girl!" I protested.
Akoni didn't reply, just kept leading me down the corridor.
He led me into a narrow corridor between rooms 1 and 2. At the end there was a door that he unlocked. He gently pushed me into the dark room on the other side of the door.
"Uh, can we turn on some light...?" I asked. He just hushed at me.
"Quiet, boy. We don't want to disturb anyone."
In the middle of the room there was a table... or something that resembled a table. It consisted of a narrow wooden slate, with something that looked leather sleeves on each side. Akoni led me to the table, and pushed my upper body against it, so my body made a perfect 90 degrees angle. He buckled the leather sleeves around my wrists.
"You comfortable like that, Sophie?"
