Nancy, With His Laughing Face

A short gentleman with perfect pores opened the door to the Heritage Suite. Nigel, holding a glass of twelve-year-old Scotch, neat, stepped inside and nodded to the man as he pulled the door closed, leaving the god to soak up the Arsenal Heritage. The room assaulted the senses. Three banks of dining tables, done in the modern style, dominated the foreground. The tables were clear glass, the chairs black leather, mounted on undulating black tube. The service was silver and crystal. The entire room was lit by halogen track lighting, which, from the vestibule, gave the effect of search and rescue helicopters intruding on a

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romantic interlude. Once you moved into the room proper, however, the lighting promoted an elegant, intimate environment, very easy on the eyes so long as you didnt look up. Nigel blinked to clear his vision and continued to the other side of the suite. Behind the bank of tables was a wall of booths done in plush red leather and hardwood. The booths looked out onto the pitch from a perfect centre line vantage point. As he gazed out the window, he realised that his view was distracted by three heads bobbing just on the other side and below the glass. Leaning over the booth to gain a bet-

ter perspective, Nigel was greeted by the sight of a beige fedora with a shiny satin band, from which a colourful feather was protruding, a red and green plaid tam and, in the middle, a freckled scalp in the advanced stages of male pattern baldness, ringed by curly brown hair. Nigel tapped on the glass and Hamishs face looked up from under the tam, smiled, and pointed to Nigels left. Finding a door in the shadow along the wall just next to the booth, Nigel exited the suite proper and joined his companions in their reserved seats. Coming round the corner, Nigel found the other three on their feet, waiting to greet him. Cwm had a frown on his big round face.

Was he still miffed about the vowels? Some people had no sense of humour. Behind him, the pom-pom on Hamishs tam was bobbing furiously as he gestured for Nigel to keep the peace. It was the tiny fellow closest to him, though, the fellow in the felt hat, matching plaid suit and slacks, and patent leather shoes, that brought a huge smile to his face. Nancy, lad! Its been ages, good to see you, man! The little black man in the hat laughed as Nigel rushed forward and fairly crushed him in an affectionate embrace. Nigel stepped back and looked at his friend and then gave him another bruising hug.

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Eyes, man! I wasnt expecting to run into you. And in London, no less! Fortune bite my arse! Nancy laughed again. The sound came easy to him. He shrugged his shoulders and twisted his neck, like a man just escaping the chiropractors clutches, went into a shadow crouch with his dukes up and waded playfully into Nigel. The bigger man laughed and responded in kind, which quickly brought a mock surrender from the diminutive fellow. Nigel laughed again. When did I last run across you? Lord and Lady, what was it? Seventy-one? Seventytwo? It was seventy-one, my friend. I am pleased that you remember.

Nancys voice was full of cheer, and had a musical quality to it, with an alto-tenor pitch. It was surprisingly deep coming from such a diminutive figure. If the dandy suit he was sporting were drenched, he might top eight stone. Oh, I remember, alright, Nigel chuckled. I had to trek all the way to Ujiji, just to make sure that you didnt lead that Yank up the garden path. How may other fellows did you lead a merry chase all over Africa, looking for Livingstone? Oh, I dont know, half a dozen, maybe? Nancys smile showed absolutely no remorse. At least! You know, Brits arent use to having their heroes put in a zoo

exhibit for African bushmen. And they say Im always causing trouble. You have me beat by half! Ah, well. Thats my job, my friend. Nancys smile grew bigger, if that were possible. Everyone needs to be brought down a peg, once in a while. Even you English. Nigel laughed again. Especially us English! But who are you here to peg back today? Well get to that, soon enough. Cwms scowl finally intruded on the reunion. The match is starting. Do sit down or well miss it. Nigel glanced over his shoulder. The players were positioned around the center circle, just waiting for the ref-

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erees signal to begin. Alright then, Cwm, alright. Nigel took a seat next to Nancy, giving him a friendly elbow and a wink. What, have you got a fiver on the game? The Welsh gods puffy cheeks turned a deep red and his jowls flapped madly about as he took the bait. Gambling is an evil vice, Nigel, and you know I dont indulge. You may like your fun and games but look at all the trouble it causes. Cwm seemed about to launch into a full fledged sermon but the match started and he was instantly drawn in. From the other side of him, Hamish leaned forward and caught Nigels eye.

Why do you always have to tease him, mate? Hes a good fellow in a pinch and you know it. Hes a stick-in-the-mud, Nigel sneered in reply. OK, so he takes life too seriously,

mate, but someone has to provide a counterweight for you. Nancy chuckled at the barb and Nigel shrugged it off with a guilty grin. An Arsenal player made a run down the flank and Cwm suddenly came to his feet. The play fizzled out, however, and the Welsh god slipped back into his seat, disappointed. Nigel looked over at Hamish. One of his lads? Hamish nodded. Looks a bit of alright. Cwm turned on him with a snarl.

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Yes, he does and no thanks to you! Me? What did I do? It was one of your lads who did him in, wasnt it? Dunno, mate, was it? Cwm lunged out of his seat but then lurched right back into it, as Hamish yanked hard on his shirttail. Take it down a notch, mate. Nigel wasnt around when that happened and you know it. No sense blaming him. Besides, this isnt why we came here. Nigel peered around a seething Cwm at the Scot. And why exactly did we come here?

Hamish smiled. Well, lets go in and have a nice dinner, and Ill explain. An hour later, after some excellent roast of lamb, Nigel found himself sipping a rather excellent wine and thinking that this was exactly why he had dreamt up the Game in the first place. So, we settle our differences on the pitch, then? Aye, its already been agreed. If we win, Manco closes up shop. Theres some other side bets, as well, but everyones in on the big one. Except you, of course. Oh, no. Im in. Definitely count me in, Hamish. I want that little rat

and his nasty powder out of my patch, and I mean sharpish. Good, then. The rest will be glad to hear it. Its not going to be easy, though. Manco has some heavyweights in his corner. Pierre and Gaston? Who else? But Ottos come out on their side, as well. Otto? Wouldnt have thought it of him. Cwm finally spoke up. Well, he was going to play with us but then you showed up out of the blue, got in a tussle with him, laid a kiss on his little bird before you left and that put paid to that.

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Well, what about you, Cwm? You always seem to have a bug up your arse about me. Im surprised youre not boning up on your comment a vas, too. Cwm shot out of his chair and began jabbing a fork in Nigels face. Well, if you bloody well took a moment to think before you stuck your bloody effing nose in where it doesnt bloody effing belong! OK, OK, Cwm. Take it easy, mate. Were all on the same side and this is going to work out, yeah? Cwm glared at Hamish, then at Nigel, then at Hamish again. Finally, he relaxed, gently put his fork back on the table, turned and walked out of the suite, slamming the door be-

hind him. Hamish looked at Nigel, reassuringly. Hell be alright. No worries. Okay, I guess. Nigel nodded, and then moved on. Who else we got? Well, there is me, my friend, Nancy smiled. You play? Hamish let out a belly laugh and Nigel looked over, confused. Boyo, he can play. Oh yes, you neednt worry about that! Hell be keeping their back line busy all night. We just have to worry about keeping Manco from doing the same

at the other end. Reassured, Nigel chuckled and playfully mashed Nancys hat down on his head. Dont you ever take that ugly thing off? Nancy laughed, Only when its time to get serious, my friend. Nigels chuckle grew into a full throated roar. This is going to be right fun, it is. Nancy laughed along with him but Hamish looked like a god who has realised he might have bitten off more than he could chew.

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ThisisanextractfromIssueOneofManandBall magazine:LetSleepingGodsLie. ThisissueintroducesNigelandfeaturesstorieson Germanfootballsincereunification,AfricanArsenal fans,anunsungDutchlegend,andsevenother intriguingarticles. ItcanbedownloadedinitsentiretyHERE>

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