Soldier's Game Read Online Free
Author: James Killgore
his best not to think about the match on Saturday. Besides, he had other things on his mind. He was determined to find out more about Jack Jordan: what position he played, whether he’d scored any goals, how many seasons he was with Hearts.
That night he went up to his room after dinner and switched on his desk lamp. He reached under the bed for Jack’s box and pulled out the old brown envelope. Among the contents he found dozens of yellowed newspaper clippings – mainly from The Scotsman, some dating back to 1912 but none after 1915. Mostly they were just the week’s results and league tables along with short reports of the main First Division matches. He scanned a few but found no mention of Jack.
Scattered among the clippings were some old football programmes. He opened one from a match with Hibernian on 5 December 1914. Across the middle-page spread was a photograph of the squad – three rows of men, kneeling, sitting, standing, with a bowler-hatted manager to one side. He scanned the players’ names: Willie Wilson, Alfred Briggs, Duncan Currie, Harry Wattie, Bob Preston, TomGracie – but no Jack.
Just as he was about to give up, Ross came upon a page torn from a newspaper called The Scottish Football Gazette . A paragraph was circled near the bottom with a second team result and short summary:
HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN “A”, 3; DUNDEE “A”, 1. Brisk, wet afternoon; young Jack Jordan continues to show promise for Hearts reserves, scoring two – one off a wayward pass from Wilson…
And on another clipping:
HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN “A”, 5; DUNDEE “A”, 0. Jordan dominates Hearts side with three goals; two in the first half…
Ross found a dozen more such results, each mentioning Jack Jordan by name and always as top scorer. Reading the long forgotten pages he felt an odd flush of pride. His great-grandfather had been a star striker, even if not for the first team.
Sorting through the rest of the newspaper clippingshe found another, but this one wasn’t from the sports pages. It was a group photograph of young men in street clothes under the headline: “HEARTS ENLIST”. Ross studied the faces and there on the second row, third from the left, stood Jack Jordan.
***
That night Ross had another dream of being at Tynecastle stadium, but this time he was watching a regular league match in the present day. He sat in one of the season-ticket seats but without Simon. A capacity crowd filled the stadium and down on the pitch the tiger mascots Teenie and Tynie conducted the crowd in “Hearts, Hearts, Glorious Hearts”. Over in the far stand a tight square of opposition fans waved green scarves and hats and chanted, although completely drowned out. A man next to Ross cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, “Dinnae even try!”
Time seemed compressed as it does in dreams, and down at the entrance to the players’ tunnel, officials in fluorescent yellow vests began to rush about. An announcer broke in: “We’re pleased to welcome some very special guests at today’s match. Pleasegive a Tynecastle cheer to some Hearts heroes of old.”
Out of the tunnel jogged a squad of footballers dressed in the same old-fashioned kit as in Jack’s box. But unlike the colourful scene around them they were pale and grey like ghosts. Just as before, the players moved with odd jerky motion like in an old silent film. Last to emerge from the tunnel was Jack Jordan.
Ross shouted in excitement to the fans seated around him.
“Hey! That’s my great-grandfather down there.”
He knew it sounded ridiculous. Not one of the players was over the age of thirty. But nobody around him listened or even seemed to notice. They munched chips or texted on their mobiles.
Ross grabbed the arm of the man next to him.
“Look!”
The guy grinned quizzically and Ross realised then he was still wearing his pyjamas.
Down on the pitch the ghost players formed a circle and began to perform an odd, regimented passing drill – weaving
That night he went up to his room after dinner and switched on his desk lamp. He reached under the bed for Jack’s box and pulled out the old brown envelope. Among the contents he found dozens of yellowed newspaper clippings – mainly from The Scotsman, some dating back to 1912 but none after 1915. Mostly they were just the week’s results and league tables along with short reports of the main First Division matches. He scanned a few but found no mention of Jack.
Scattered among the clippings were some old football programmes. He opened one from a match with Hibernian on 5 December 1914. Across the middle-page spread was a photograph of the squad – three rows of men, kneeling, sitting, standing, with a bowler-hatted manager to one side. He scanned the players’ names: Willie Wilson, Alfred Briggs, Duncan Currie, Harry Wattie, Bob Preston, TomGracie – but no Jack.
Just as he was about to give up, Ross came upon a page torn from a newspaper called The Scottish Football Gazette . A paragraph was circled near the bottom with a second team result and short summary:
HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN “A”, 3; DUNDEE “A”, 1. Brisk, wet afternoon; young Jack Jordan continues to show promise for Hearts reserves, scoring two – one off a wayward pass from Wilson…
And on another clipping:
HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN “A”, 5; DUNDEE “A”, 0. Jordan dominates Hearts side with three goals; two in the first half…
Ross found a dozen more such results, each mentioning Jack Jordan by name and always as top scorer. Reading the long forgotten pages he felt an odd flush of pride. His great-grandfather had been a star striker, even if not for the first team.
Sorting through the rest of the newspaper clippingshe found another, but this one wasn’t from the sports pages. It was a group photograph of young men in street clothes under the headline: “HEARTS ENLIST”. Ross studied the faces and there on the second row, third from the left, stood Jack Jordan.
***
That night Ross had another dream of being at Tynecastle stadium, but this time he was watching a regular league match in the present day. He sat in one of the season-ticket seats but without Simon. A capacity crowd filled the stadium and down on the pitch the tiger mascots Teenie and Tynie conducted the crowd in “Hearts, Hearts, Glorious Hearts”. Over in the far stand a tight square of opposition fans waved green scarves and hats and chanted, although completely drowned out. A man next to Ross cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, “Dinnae even try!”
Time seemed compressed as it does in dreams, and down at the entrance to the players’ tunnel, officials in fluorescent yellow vests began to rush about. An announcer broke in: “We’re pleased to welcome some very special guests at today’s match. Pleasegive a Tynecastle cheer to some Hearts heroes of old.”
Out of the tunnel jogged a squad of footballers dressed in the same old-fashioned kit as in Jack’s box. But unlike the colourful scene around them they were pale and grey like ghosts. Just as before, the players moved with odd jerky motion like in an old silent film. Last to emerge from the tunnel was Jack Jordan.
Ross shouted in excitement to the fans seated around him.
“Hey! That’s my great-grandfather down there.”
He knew it sounded ridiculous. Not one of the players was over the age of thirty. But nobody around him listened or even seemed to notice. They munched chips or texted on their mobiles.
Ross grabbed the arm of the man next to him.
“Look!”
The guy grinned quizzically and Ross realised then he was still wearing his pyjamas.
Down on the pitch the ghost players formed a circle and began to perform an odd, regimented passing drill – weaving
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